Discovered His Will, Faked My Death

Elyse POV:

I had just said goodbye to Dalton, the heavy legal documents feeling like lead in my hands. The elevator doors slid open in my new apartment building. And there she was.

Kira.

She was dressed in a pristine white designer dress, her hair perfectly coiffed, a delicate gold bracelet glittering on her wrist. She held a wicker basket, from which the scent of chicken broth wafted. She looked perfectly innocent, frail, as always.

"Elyse! Oh, thank goodness I found you," she chirped, her voice light, airy. "I've been looking for you everywhere. Grayson was so worried." Her eyes darted past me, trying to peer into my apartment.

I blocked her way, my hand on the door frame. "What do you want, Kira?" I asked, my voice flat, devoid of emotion.

She paused, her smile faltering for a split second, then she composed herself, a look of hurt on her face. "Grayson sent me. He's very concerned about you. And his family… they sent some soup. For the baby." She gestured with the basket, a picture of solicitous concern. But her eyes, cold and calculating, swept over my modest apartment, taking in every detail with thinly veiled disdain.

"Tell Grayson I'm fine," I said, my voice clipped. "And I don't need his family's charity. Or yours." I started to close the door.

She moved quickly, her small foot sliding into the gap, preventing the door from shutting. Her eyes, now wide and brimming with fake tears, looked up at me. "Elyse, how can you be so cruel? You know Grayson and I are just friends. Platonic. He' s always been so kind to me, and I have a weak heart. You're just jealous, aren't you?"

I let out a cold, humorless laugh. "Jealous? Of you and Grayson? Please. You can have him. In fact, you already do. And don't worry, Kira. I'm divorcing him. So you two can finally be together. Happily ever after." The words tasted like ash.

A flicker of pure joy, quickly masked, danced in her eyes. "Oh, Elyse, don't be so rash! Think of the baby! A child needs a father. And Grayson… he desperately wants a child." She paused, her voice taking on a softer, more insidious tone. "You know, if my heart wasn't so weak, I would have given him one years ago. What a tragedy."

My hand, poised to shut the door, froze. A cold, awful premonition, a horrifying suspicion, began to form in my mind. My voice was barely a whisper. "What are you saying, Kira?" I demanded, my throat tight. "Are you saying... Grayson wants my baby? To be your child?"

Her eyes welled up, a single tear tracing a path down her cheek. "Oh, Elyse, you misunderstand! I just... I feel so sorry for the baby. If only I were stronger, then perhaps..." She trailed off, her gaze meeting mine, full of a chilling, manipulative pity.

I took a step back, a wave of icy dread washing over me. The pieces clicked into place with horrifying clarity: Kira's infertility, my dimples, Grayson's obsession with an heir, his refusal to divorce me, his threat to take the baby. I wasn't just a placeholder wife. I was a biological incubator. A means to an end.

My stomach churned, a violent surge of nausea. Not morning sickness. This was pure revulsion. My vision swam. All the strings that held me together, the fragile threads of hope and self-deception, snapped.

"You parasitic bitch!" I screamed, the words tearing from my throat. My hand flew out, and I slapped her across the face with all my might. The sound cracked in the quiet hallway. Immediately, I grabbed the wicker basket and, without thinking, hurled the hot chicken broth at her.

"Ahhh!" Kira shrieked, clutching her face, the hot liquid staining her expensive white dress, turning it a muddy red. She stumbled back, pure rage distorting her delicate features.

"Tell Grayson this!" I yelled, my chest heaving, my voice raw with fury. "Tell him he will never get this child! Not over my dead body! This baby is mine!"

Kira' s composure was completely gone. Her face was twisted with hatred, her eyes burning. "You think you can fight us, Elyse? You think you can win against the Graves family? You're nothing!"

"I am everything!" I retorted, my voice shaking but firm. "And this baby is mine!"

She stomped her foot, a childish tantrum, then turned and fled, her shrieks echoing down the hall.

The moment the door slammed shut, I collapsed, sinking to the floor. My body was shaking uncontrollably, cold sweat plastering my hair to my face. Tears streamed down my face, hot and agonizing. Fear, cold and insidious, wrapped its tendrils around me. Grayson. He was a ruthless tech mogul. He would stop at nothing. He would take my baby.

But I wouldn't let him. Never. This child, my child, was the only treasure I had left. My anchor in this sea of betrayal. My reason to live. He would never get his hands on my baby.

A sharp cramp shot through my abdomen. I gasped, clutching my belly. My baby stirred, a gentle flutter, as if in reassurance.

"I won't let anyone hurt you," I sobbed, tears blurring my vision. "I promise, my love. Mama will protect you."

Night fell, dark and suffocating. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, my face pale, haunted. My dimples, once a source of joy, now felt like a curse. If the baby wasn't here, would Grayson just... let me go? The thought, dark and terrifying, snaked into my mind.