When The Last Shot Is Fired

"Dr. Evans, this is Eleanor Vance. I need you to schedule an abortion for me, please."

After hanging up, I stood silently for a long moment before my legs buckled and I collapsed.

I fell from the wedding dais, landing on shards from a shattered champagne flute that pierced my palm.

As pain shot through me, my grief hardened into steel.

The man I had loved for ten years was rotten to the core.

And I was done with him.

Ignoring the throbbing in my hand, I took a taxi to the hospital.

I deleted all the messages about my pregnancy tests from three days ago.

Just as I was about to ask the receptionist about the procedure, a hand grabbed my arm.

"Jax, it's Miss Vance!"

Jax's teammate, Mike, held my arm in a vise grip, a mocking look in his eyes.

When Jax, rushing past with Seraphina in his arms, saw me, his features tightened with annoyance.

"Ellie, I told you I would come back to finish the wedding after I handled this. Why did you follow me here?"

"Do you really not trust me at all?"

His tone was accusatory, his expression a mask of barely suppressed irritation.

"Jax, Eleanor is being so thoughtless!"

"Yeah! Sera is pregnant and high-risk. It's not like she's the one who's pregnant, yet she still followed you all the way to the hospital..."

"I think she did it on purpose, to upset Sera!"

Jax's face grew colder with every word.

"Ellie, you've really disappointed me this time."

"Don't you know Seraphina has depression and is carrying a child?"

"Did you have to be so selfish, especially right now?"

Hearing the word 'selfish,' my heart clenched.

My fingernails dug into my palm, and my lips trembled, unable to form words.

Ten years ago, maybe I was selfish.

But in the ten years I was with Jax, I tried so hard to be anything but a burden.

I was bullied at school but never said a word, suffering in silence.

When he was injured on missions, I stayed by his side, tending to his wounds myself.

I went from a pampered princess to a puppet who lived only for him.

For ten years, my entire world had revolved around Jax.

What right did he have to call me selfish?

Trembling, I spoke through gritted teeth.

"Jax, I came to the hospital today to get an abortion—"

Before I could finish, Seraphina, in his arms, suddenly let out a pained cry.

"Jax, let me go!"

"Just let me die!"

"Don't you see what a burden I am?"

"If the baby and I die, you'll finally get what you want!"

Seraphina's wail was pure theater, right up until her face went pale and she fainted in his arms.

"Get out of the way!"

"Eleanor Vance, you've truly let me down!"

Jax barked coldly, shoving me aside as he rushed toward the emergency room with Seraphina cradled in his arms.

I slammed against the hard hospital wall, and a sharp, tearing pain shot through my abdomen.

Blood trickled down my legs, the sensation distant and unreal.

As my consciousness began to fade, my mind drifted back to my eighteenth birthday.

Jax had been gone on a mission for three months.

When he returned, his throat had been slashed, and his voice was a raw, broken rasp.

That night, he insisted on singing 'Happy Birthday' to me.

Every line was painfully off-key.

But each off-key note settled into my heart, warming me from the inside out.

From then on, every birthday wish I made was for Jax's safety.

Looking back now, the memory is a bitter joke.

With trembling hands, I gritted my teeth and pushed myself up, activating a top-priority request on a secure mercenary network.

A few minutes later, the contract was accepted.

My body went limp. Leaning against the wall, I was about to slide to the floor when I was slapped hard across the face.

"Eleanor Vance, something is wrong with Sera's baby. This is your fault, isn't it?"