The Billionaire's Secret Heir: Sign the Divorce

"Granddame!" Mrs. Higgins screamed.

The old woman fell backward, her chair tipping over with a crash.

Ezequiel forgot his bleeding head instantly. He vaulted over the fallen chair and caught her just before her head hit the floor.

"Call 911!" he roared at the staff.

Claudia was already moving. She pushed past the paralyzed maids and dropped to her knees beside the old woman.

"Lay her flat," she commanded, her voice sharp and authoritative. "Undo her collar."

Ezequiel looked at her, surprised by the sudden change in her demeanor. He hesitated.

"Do it!" she yelled.

He obeyed, fumbling with the high lace collar of her dress. Claudia placed two fingers against her carotid artery.

"No pulse," she muttered. "She's in cardiac arrest. Get the AED from the medical room. Now!"

She interlocked her fingers, placed the heel of her hand on the center of Granddame's chest, and began compressions.

One, two, three, four.

"Stay with us," Claudia whispered, her hair falling into her face as she pumped. "Come on, Granddame."

The house doctor arrived two minutes later with the crash cart. He took over compressions while Claudia grabbed the ambu-bag to ventilate. They worked in tandem, a seamless medical unit, while Ezequiel stood pressed against the wall, pale and useless.

By the time the paramedics arrived to transport her to the on-site medical suite-the estate was equipped like a mini-hospital-they had a rhythm back. It was weak, but it was there.

Ezequiel stood in the hallway outside her room, pressing a handkerchief to the cut on his forehead. The blood had dried into a dark crust.

He stared at the closed door, then turned his gaze to Claudia.

"If she dies," he said, his voice shaking, "it's on you."

"On me?" Claudia laughed, a hysterical, bubbling sound. "You're the one who screamed at her. You're the one who defended the woman who abandoned you."

Ezequiel stepped forward, towering over her. "Don't you dare talk about Alexa."

"The doctor said she needs absolute calm," Dr. Evans emerged from the room, interrupting them. He looked grave. "Her heart is operating at thirty percent capacity. Any shock, any stress, any emotional upheaval could be fatal. Do you understand?"

He looked pointedly at Ezequiel. "No arguments. No bad news."

Ezequiel swallowed hard. He nodded.

The doctor left. Ezequiel leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes.

"We can't divorce," he said.

The words hung in the air.

"What?" Claudia asked.

He opened his eyes. They were dull, defeated. "Grandmother thinks we're still married. If I tell her I'm leaving you... if I introduce Alexa now... it will kill her."

Claudia's heart hammered against her ribs. This was a trap. If she stayed, living in the same house with him, how long could she hide the pregnancy? Her belly would start to show in weeks.

But she had no choice.

"Fine," she said. "We pause the divorce."

"Until she recovers," he added quickly. "Three months. Maybe four."

"And the loan?" she asked. She saw her opening and took it. "The divorce is paused, but Valentine Group still needs that money tomorrow."

Ezequiel looked at her with renewed disgust. "Is that all you care about? Money?"

"It's all you've left me," she shot back. "I'll play the loving wife. I'll live here. I'll hold your hand in front of her. But you transfer the two hundred million to my father's company account by 9:00 AM."

He stared at her for a long moment, as if trying to reconcile the woman bargaining with him with the silent wife he thought he knew.

"Done," he spat. "Sterling will handle it."

He pushed himself off the wall and walked away toward the guest wing. He didn't look back.

Claudia slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor. She had won the money. She had saved the company. But she had just locked herself in a cage with the man who wanted to destroy her.