Chapter 3

When I arrived at the publishing house, the massive poster was already hanging in the lobby. Eighty percent of the ad space was dominated by a glamorous photoshoot of Chloe, with a long bio beside it and PR blurbs hinting at her "epic romance" with Carter. My name was shoved into a corner.

The head of the press, Brett Collins, was Carter's childhood friend. He sat in his office puffing a cigar. "My hands are tied, Harper. Carter called me personally and ordered it printed overnight. Besides, Sterling Publishing belongs to the two of you. Doesn't matter whose name is on it, the money goes to the same bank account, right?"

A chilling realization washed over me. Carter's “we'll discuss it tomorrow” was just a stall tactic. The ink was already dry.

I spun around, practically flying down the stairs, and floored the gas pedal all the way back to the estate.

When I burst through the front doors, the dinner party had dispersed. Carter was lounging on the sofa, watching TV with Chloe.

"How dare you!" I screamed. "That book is my life!"

Carter didn't even sit up. "I'll say it one more time. We're just borrowing your name. Once Chloe's brand is established, I'll take her name off the next edition."

Chloe squeezed out a few crocodile tears. "Harper, it's all my fault. Please don't be mad at Carter. Maybe I just won't be an author. I'll give the book back to you. I just saw how stressed Carter was running the company and wanted to help him share the burden."

"This has nothing to do with you," I snapped.

Carter pulled Chloe into his arms, shielding her like a knight defending a princess. He glared up at me. "Pushing Chloe as the face of this company is a strategic corporate move. I hope you won't be jealous of her."

"I believe I already explained this. Is your memory failing you?" he sneered. "Oh, and tonight, Chloe is legally Mrs. Sterling. I suggest you get out and cool your head."

I reached into my bag, pulled out the divorce decree, and hurled it directly at his face. The stiff folder smacked him right across the bridge of his nose.

"I was leaving tonight anyway. And now, we don't have a single reason left to be tangled up with each other."

"Fine! Good for you!" Carter bellowed, clutching his nose. "If you don't want to be my wife, I'm freezing your accounts and canceling your credit cards immediately."

He immediately summoned the estate's security guards. "I divorced this woman today. She is trespassing and harassing me and my wife. Drag her out of here."

The guards hesitated, completely bewildered, but under his furious glare, they grabbed my arms and forced me toward the gates.

"Leave me, Harper, and you won't even be able to afford a meal!" Carter shouted. "I expect you back tomorrow morning like a good girl to remarry me! And consider that book as your wedding gift to Chloe today!"

The guards shoved me past the iron gates. My heel caught on the wet pavement, and I tripped, collapsing hard into a muddy puddle left by the rain.

It had started to rain again, and the water soaked through my clothes instantly. I shoved myself up against the curb, clutching my stomach as a terrifying, alien cramp seized my core.

Suddenly, the screech of tires tore through the storm. A delivery van, hydroplaning around the blind corner, was hurtling straight at me. I threw my body backward out of instinct, dodging the bumper by inches, but the momentum slammed me violently against the unforgiving asphalt.

A sharp, agonizing pain ripped through my abdomen.

The emergency operator said an ambulance would take an hour due to the storm. Desperate, gasping for air, I dialed my emergency contact.

Carter was less than half a mile away. His car screeched to a halt beside me within minutes.

He threw the door open, but as his eyes landed on the dark blood pooling on the hem of my dress, his confident stride faltered.

"Harper... what the hell did you do?" He bent down, scooped me up, and set me in the passenger seat.

But right at that second, his dashboard screen lit up. A text from Chloe.

“Almost midnight, hubby. If you're not here by then, you lose. ;)”

Carter froze. He looked at the screen, then back down at me.

"Save me," I choked out, my fingers tightly digging into the cuff of his shirt.

Carter's expression hardened into ice. Slowly, methodically, he pried my fingers off his sleeve one by one.

"Do me a favor, Harper," he said. "I've never lost a dare in my life, and I'm not starting now. You're overreacting. It’s just a sprained ankle. I'll call an ambulance for you."

He dragged me back out of the passenger seat, pulled out his wallet, and shoved two hundred-dollar bills into my hand.

"I'll come visit you later!"

He slammed the door. The exhaust from his Mercedes blasted my face.

"Carter!" I screamed at the disappearing taillights, my voice shattering. "I am pregnant with your baby, you bastard!"

Only the roar of the rain answered me. The car never even tapped its brakes.

My vision began to blur into a terrifying blackness. Just as I felt my consciousness slipping, a dented Toyota Corolla slammed on its brakes next to me. The window rolled down, revealing Liam's pale, panicked face.

"Oh my god... Harper!"

He leaped out, practically carrying my limp body into his backseat.

The ER was a blur of glaring lights and urgent shouts. A nurse ran up to Liam waving a clipboard.

"Are you family? She's hemorrhaging, and her card was declined at registration. If she loses consciousness, we need next of kin to sign for her surgery. Right now!"

I could barely breathe. Grasping the icy metal railing of the gurney, I turned my head toward my editor.

"Liam," I gasped, tasting copper. "Sign it."

Liam’s hands shook violently as he gripped the pen. "Harper, this says spouse. How can I sign this?"

I bit my lip so hard it bled, forcing myself to stay awake. "It's April Fools' Day. Play a joke on them. Pretend you're my husband for tonight."

His face flushed red, but without another word, Liam swiped his own credit card at the registration desk and signed his name on the line. "That's one hell of a joke, Harper."

The blinding surgical lights flickered on.

"Blood pressure dropping!"

"Hypovolemic shock, get the blood bags ready!"

Cold surgical instruments pressed against my skin. The heart monitor let out a continuous, piercing alarm.

Just before the anesthesia pulled me entirely into the abyss, I heard the surgeon sigh heavily.

"We lost the fetus. Just focus on saving the mother."

When I finally woke up, the numbness of the drugs hadn’t faded, yet I felt an agonizing, soul-crushing hollow in my chest. A life I hadn't even had the chance to fully process was scooped out of me.

And with it, the very last shred of love I had for Carter Sterling died completely.

Liam was sitting in the plastic chair beside my bed, looking utterly wrecked.

I reached for my phone, scrolling down my contacts. "Liam. Do me a favor. Get in touch with my old publisher, Starfall Media."

Liam paused. Starfall was now Sterling's biggest, most aggressive rival in the publishing world. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm collecting my debts."

My phone screen lit up. The clock struck 00:01.

A text message popped up from Carter.

"Midnight passed. The dare is over. Meet me at City Hall at 9 AM to get remarried. Don't be late."

I stared at the arrogant command for exactly two seconds. Then, I hit Block Contact.

I looked up at Liam, my voice devoid of any emotion. "Get me discharged against medical advice right now. And ask the hospital to put my stay under confidential status. If anyone comes asking, I was never here."

"Harper, you just had surgery. You haven't recovered."

"Do exactly as I said," I commanded, throwing off the thin hospital blanket. The dull ache in my abdomen was nothing compared to the crystal clear, icy resolve in my mind.

At 9:00 AM sharp, Carter stood outside City Hall, tapping his watch.

By 10:00 AM, he finally dialed my number, only to be met with the sterile, automated voice: "The person you are trying to reach is not accepting calls at this time."

She's still throwing a tantrum, he thought irritably. Tossing his phone into the passenger seat, he slammed on the gas and headed straight for the hospital.