Chapter 2

The courthouse was empty at 2 AM. Just us, a half-asleep clerk, and the kind of fluorescent lighting that made everyone look like a corpse.

Fitting, I thought.

"Sign here," the clerk mumbled, sliding papers across the counter.

I stared at the marriage certificate. Lyris Ashford. Kieran Blackwell.

Twenty-four hours ago, I was planning my baby shower.

Now I was marrying a stranger who wanted to destroy my sister.

"Having second thoughts?" Kieran's voice was low, close to my ear.

"Having all the thoughts," I muttered. "This is insane."

"Insane would be going back to them." He handed me a pen. "This is survival."

I signed.

He signed.

And just like that, I became Mrs. Blackwell.

The clerk didn't even congratulate us. Just stamped the papers and went back to his crossword puzzle.

Outside, the rain had stopped. Kieran led me to the car where a woman waited—sharp suit, sharper eyes, tablet already glowing.

"This is Mira, my head of security," Kieran said. "She'll brief you on the plan."

Mira looked me up and down like I was a problem to solve. "You're showing. That's good. Celeste will want to maintain contact to monitor the pregnancy."

"She tried to kill me three hours ago."

"And tomorrow, she'll pretend it never happened." Mira pulled up a screen. "Derek called the police claiming you had a mental breakdown. Ran into traffic. He's playing the concerned brother-in-law."

My stomach turned. "Of course he is."

"The narrative is already set," Mira continued. "Unstable surrogate, hormonal, paranoid. If you go public with accusations now, you'll be institutionalized before the week ends."

I felt sick. "So what's the plan?"

Kieran stepped closer, his presence oddly steadying. "We play their game. But better."

"Meaning?"

"Tomorrow, you'll call Celeste. Apologize for the 'misunderstanding.' Tell her you overreacted, that pregnancy hormones made you paranoid."

"She'll never believe that."

"She'll believe what she wants to believe," Kieran said. "That she's smarter than everyone. That she's won. That's her weakness."

Mira nodded. "Meanwhile, we gather evidence. Financial records, medical files, witness testimonies. Everything we need to bury them legally."

"And the baby?"

Kieran's jaw tightened. "The surrogacy contract has a clause—if the intended parents are found guilty of fraud or criminal activity, custody defaults to the birth mother."

"You read my contract?"

"I read everything." His eyes met mine. "That's how I found you."

I should have been creeped out. Probably was, somewhere beneath the exhaustion and terror. But mostly, I just felt… seen.

"There's something else," Mira said, hesitating for the first time. "The contract wasn't originally for Celeste and Derek."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

Kieran pulled out another document. "The surrogacy agency matched you with a different couple first. But someone paid them to reassign your file."

I scanned the page.

The original intended father's name was redacted, but the agency's internal notes were clear: High-profile client, anonymous donation, requested specific genetic markers.

"I don't understand."

"Neither did I," Kieran said quietly. "Until I traced the payment."

He showed me a bank transfer.

The money came from Blackwell Industries.

His company.

"You were supposed to be my surrogate, Lyris." His voice was strange—tight, controlled. "My mother set it up before she died. She wanted a grandchild, and she chose you."

The world tilted.

"That's why Celeste targeted you. She found out about my mother's plan, saw an opportunity." His hands clenched. "She stole you from me before I even knew you existed."

I pressed my palm against my belly.

"So this baby…"

"Could have been mine." Kieran's eyes burned. "Should have been mine."

The car fell silent.

Mira cleared her throat. "We should move. The safe house is thirty minutes out."

But I couldn't stop staring at Kieran.

At the man who'd lost his mother, his heir, and his future—all to my sister.

"Why tell me this?" I whispered. "You could have kept it secret. Used me without me knowing."

"Because you deserve the truth." He looked away, jaw tight. "And because when this is over, I want you to stay. Not because of a contract. Because you choose to."

My heart did something dangerous.

Something stupid.

"Let's go," I said, breaking the moment. "We have a war to win."

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