Isla stared at her phone in horror. The text message glowed like a threat in the dark car.
The marriage is just the beginning. The child comes next. And this time, it will be real.
"What is it?" Damien asked, noticing her pale face.
Wordlessly, she handed him her phone. His jaw tightened as he read the message.
"We need to get you somewhere safe," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "You're coming to my house tonight."
"No way," Isla shook her head. "I barely know you."
"Someone tried to force us to have a baby," Damien reminded her. "Julian is in the hospital. Victoria is missing. And whoever sent this message knows where you live."
Isla's hands trembled. The hospital had taken Julian away, unconscious from whatever Victoria had injected him with. Serena had gone with him, promising to call with updates.
"Fine," Isla finally agreed. "One night."
Damien's driver turned the car toward the wealthy side of town. Rain splattered against the windows as they drove in tense silence. Isla hugged herself, feeling like her whole life was spinning out of control.
"We'll figure this out," Damien said, his voice softer than she'd ever heard it.
When the car stopped, Isla looked up at a mansion that seemed to touch the clouds. Tall iron gates opened automatically, revealing perfectly manicured gardens and a circular driveway.
"This is where you live?" she whispered.
"One of my homes," Damien answered casually.
The front door opened before they reached it. An older man in a crisp uniform bowed slightly.
"Mr. Calloway, we weren't expecting you tonight."
"Last-minute change of plans, Martin. My wife will be staying with us."
The word "wife" hit Isla like a punch to the gut. The butler's eyes widened slightly, but he recovered quickly.
"Of course, sir. Mrs. Calloway, welcome."
"It's Isla," she corrected automatically. "Just Isla."
Martin nodded and stepped aside to let them enter.
The entrance hall was bigger than Isla's entire apartment. Crystal chandeliers hung from high ceilings. Marble floors gleamed beneath her feet. Everything screamed money and power.
"I'll have Rosa prepare the guest room," Martin said.
"No," Damien cut in. "My wife will be staying in the master suite. With me."
Isla spun around. "Excuse me?"
Damien took her elbow and led her up the grand staircase, out of the butler's earshot.
"We need to talk privately," he explained in a low voice. "The staff reports to my father's board members. If they think our marriage is fake, Victoria could use it against us."
"So I have to pretend to be happily married to you? In your bedroom?"
"Just until we find out who's behind this."
Isla yanked her arm free. "And where exactly will you be sleeping?"
"I have a couch in my suite."
They reached the top of the stairs, and Isla felt dizzy from everything that had happened. Her phone buzzed with a text from Serena.
Julian stable but still unconscious. Police looking for Victoria. Stay safe.
"At least Julian's alive," she murmured.
"For now," Damien said grimly. "But whoever's behind this is dangerous."
He led her down a long hallway to double doors at the end. When he pushed them open, Isla stepped into a suite bigger than her law firm's conference room.
"Your bedroom is bigger than my entire apartment," she said, trying not to sound impressed.
"Our bedroom, for now," Damien corrected.
He walked to a closet the size of a small store and pulled out a t-shirt and sweatpants.
"Here. You can sleep in these until we get your clothes tomorrow."
Isla took them, suddenly aware of how tired she was. "Where's the bathroom?"
Damien pointed to another door. "Through there."
The bathroom was all black marble and gold fixtures. A shower big enough for five people stood in one corner, while a bathtub that looked like a small pool took up another. Isla changed quickly, rolling up the sweatpants that were much too long.
When she came out, Damien was setting up pillows and blankets on a leather couch by the window.
"You could have the guest room," Isla offered, feeling guilty.
"And have the staff gossip about why I'm not sleeping with my new wife?" He shook his head. "We need to be careful."
Isla sat on the edge of the massive bed. "None of this feels real."
"Tell me about it," Damien agreed, sitting beside her. "Three days ago, I'd never met you. Now we're married, someone's trying to force us to have a child, and my stepmother is on the run after poisoning your ex-fiancé."
"When you put it that way, it sounds insane."
Their eyes met, and for a brief moment, Isla felt a spark of something that frightened her more than anything else that had happened—attraction.
She looked away quickly. "I should get some sleep."
"Good idea. We have a lot to figure out tomorrow."
Isla slipped under the silky sheets while Damien turned off the main lights, leaving only a small lamp by his couch. The bed was the most comfortable thing she'd ever felt, but sleep seemed impossible.
Hours later, she was still staring at the ceiling when her phone lit up with another text.
Check the nightstand drawer.
Isla froze. The message was from the same unknown number as before. Heart pounding, she reached for the drawer and pulled it open.
Inside was a small flash drive with her name written on it.
"Damien," she called softly.
He was instantly alert, moving across the room. "What's wrong?"
She showed him the message and the flash drive. "Someone knows I'm here. In this room."
Damien's face hardened. "That's impossible. The security system—"
"Would a security system stop someone from knowing what drawer I'm next to?" Isla asked.
Damien grabbed the flash drive. "Let's see what's on it."
He went to a desk in the corner and opened a laptop. When he plugged in the drive, a video file appeared.
"Should we watch it?" Isla asked.
"We need to know what we're dealing with."
The video started playing. It showed Isla and Damien together at a restaurant, laughing. The date stamp was from three months ago.
"That's not possible," Isla whispered. "I never—"
"It's fake," Damien said, though his eyes narrowed as the video continued.
The next clip showed them entering his building, his arm around her waist. Then another of them kissing in an elevator.
"This is what Julian saw," Isla realized. "They used these fake videos to convince him I was cheating."
The final clip made her gasp. It showed her and Damien in a doctor's office, looking at ultrasound images.
The video ended with white text on a black screen:
The next child will be real. You have one week to announce your pregnancy, or Julian dies.
"They're threatening Julian now," Isla said, her voice shaking.
"And they want us to tell the world you're pregnant," Damien added.
"Why? What do they gain from this?"
Damien closed the laptop. "I don't know. But whoever planted this flash drive has access to my home."
A crash from downstairs made them both jump.
"Stay here," Damien ordered, heading for the door.
"No way," Isla argued, following him. "I'm not staying alone."
They crept down the hallway together. The house was silent now. When they reached the main staircase, Isla gasped.
Standing in the entrance hall was a man she recognized instantly from the outline she'd been shown—Elias Bennett, her estranged brother.
"Hello, sister dear," he called up to her with a cold smile. "Surprised to see me?"
"Elias?" Isla whispered. "How did you get in here?"
"I have a key," he replied, twirling it between his fingers. "Victoria gave it to me. She thought you might need family around during this difficult time."
His eyes shifted to Damien. "And you must be my new brother-in-law. Funny, I don't remember getting an invitation to the wedding."
Damien stepped in front of Isla protectively. "What do you want?"
Elias smiled wider. "Just checking on my sister. Making sure she's adjusting well to married life."
He started climbing the stairs toward them. "Oh, and Isla? Mother wants to know when she can expect her first grandchild. She's very excited about the news."
Isla felt her blood turn to ice. "What news?"
Elias reached the top step and handed her a newspaper. The headline made her knees weak:
CALLOWAY HEIR ON THE WAY: BUSINESS TYCOON AND NEW BRIDE EXPECTING FIRST CHILD
"But that's not—" Isla began.
"True?" Elias finished for her. "It doesn't have to be. Yet."
He glanced at his watch. "Victoria's waiting for my call. She wants to know if you've seen the flash drive yet."
As the pieces fell into place, Damien lunged for Elias. But Isla's brother was faster, jumping back with a laugh.
"Don't shoot the messenger," he warned. "I'm just here to deliver a friendly reminder—you have one week to make the headline true. Or Julian won't be the only one who gets hurt."
Before either could respond, the front door opened again. Martin stood there with several security guards.
"Sir, we detected an intruder—"
But when they all looked back, Elias was gone.
And on Isla's phone, a new message appeared:
Welcome home, Mrs. Calloway. The bedroom is bugged. The staff is watching. Trust no one.
PS: Check under the bed.