Jack didn't speak to Jane for days.
At first, she told herself it was for the best—that she had done what was necessary to protect him.
But the silence was unbearable.
Every day, she moved through the grand estate like a ghost, her heart aching with every glance she stole in Jack's direction. She saw the way his jaw tightened when he passed her in the halls, the way his hands clenched into fists when their eyes met.
But worst of all—
She saw the pain.
He wasn't just angry.
He was hurting.
And it killed her.
---
Jack's Torment
Jack sat in his study late into the night, an untouched glass of whiskey beside him.
The fire crackled in the hearth, casting shadows across the dimly lit room, but the warmth of the flames did nothing to ease the cold ache inside him.
He had never felt this kind of rage before—this deep, consuming fire that refused to be extinguished.
Jane had lied.
She had looked into his eyes and told him she didn't love him.
And maybe—just maybe—he could have believed her... if not for the way her voice had trembled. If not for the tears she had so desperately tried to hide.
She loved him.
He knew it.
So why was she pushing him away?
His mother.
Jack's grip tightened around the glass.
Margaret Lawrence had always been a master manipulator, but this time, she had gone too far. She had cornered Jane, threatened her, and left her with no choice but to break his heart.
Jack's jaw clenched as he downed the whiskey in one sharp gulp, the liquid burning down his throat.
He should have expected this.
But what he hadn't expected—what hurt more than anything—was that Jane had let her win.
She had surrendered.
And Jack didn't know if he could ever forgive her for that.
---
A Moment of Weakness
Late one evening, Jane was dusting the shelves in the grand library when she felt it—
The weight of his gaze.
Her hands froze on the rag she was holding, her breath catching in her throat.
Slowly, she turned.
Jack stood in the doorway, his broad shoulders tense, his eyes burning with something raw and dangerous.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.
Then, finally, Jack stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.
Jane's pulse quickened.
"I need to know," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "Why?"
Jane swallowed hard. "Jack—"
"Don't," he cut her off, his voice sharp. "Don't lie to me again. Tell me the truth."
Her heart ached at the desperation in his eyes.
She wanted to tell him everything.
How she loved him. How every breath without him felt like agony.
But she couldn't.
"I don't love you," she whispered.
Jack flinched as if she had struck him.
A muscle in his jaw tightened, and for a moment, Jane thought he might turn and leave.
But he didn't.
Instead, he crossed the room in three long strides and stood before her, so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body.
"Look me in the eye," he murmured, "and say it again."
Jane's eyes burned with tears as she forced herself to meet his gaze.
"I..." Her voice cracked.
Jack's breath hitched.
"That's what I thought."
And before she could stop him—before she could think—
Jack kissed her.
---
A Love That Refuses to Die
The kiss was not soft.
It was not gentle.
It was raw. Desperate. A battle between two souls who had fought too hard and suffered too long.
Jack's hands tangled in her hair, pulling her closer, as if he could somehow erase the distance that had been forced between them.
And Jane—
She broke.
A sob escaped her lips as she melted into him, her trembling hands clutching at his shirt, her heart screaming for a love she could never have.
Jack groaned against her mouth, deepening the kiss, as if he, too, was drowning in her.
"Tell me you don't love me now," he whispered against her lips.
Jane whimpered.
She couldn't.
She didn't want to.
But reality came crashing back far too quickly.
With a sharp inhale, Jane tore herself from his arms and stumbled back until her back hit the bookshelf.
Jack's chest rose and fell heavily, his eyes dark with emotion.
"Jane," he whispered.
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she shook her head.
"This... this isn't fair," she choked.
Jack clenched his fists. "No. It's not."
Silence stretched between them, filled with all the things they couldn't say.
Then, finally, Jack took a step back.
"I won't force you," he said quietly. "But I will fight for you."
Jane's breath shuddered.
And before she could stop him—
Jack turned and left.
And Jane slid to the floor, pressing a trembling hand to her lips, knowing that no matter how hard she tried—
She could never stop loving him.
---
Margaret's Next Move
In the grand drawing room, Margaret Lawrence sipped her tea with practiced elegance, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips.
Everything was falling perfectly into place.
Jane had pulled away. Jack was furious and vulnerable.
And now, it was time to strike the final blow.
Margaret turned to the young woman seated across from her.
Olivia.
Beautiful. Manipulative. And perfectly willing to play her role.
"I assume you're ready to do your part?" Margaret asked smoothly.
Olivia's lips curved into a cunning smile.
"Of course," she replied. "It's time to remind Jack where his true future lies."
Margaret's smile widened.
The trap was set.
---
The Trap is Set
Later that night, as Jane was finishing her chores, she heard hushed voices echoing from the grand hallway.
Curiosity pulled her toward the sound.
Peeking around the corner, she saw them—
Olivia standing far too close to Jack, her hand resting delicately on his arm, her eyes shimmering with false innocence.
But it was what Olivia said next that made Jane's heart stop.
"I need to tell you something, Jack," Olivia murmured. "I... I'm pregnant."
The world tilted beneath Jane's feet.
No.
No, no, no.
Jack stiffened, his eyes narrowing. "What did you just say?"
Olivia lowered her gaze, placing a hand on her stomach. "It's yours, Jack."
Jane felt like the air had been stolen from her lungs.
Jack's expression hardened. "That's impossible."
"I wish it weren't," Olivia said, tears shimmering in her eyes. "But it's true."
Jane couldn't breathe.
She couldn't think.
Before Jack could respond, Jane turned and fled.
Her vision blurred with tears as she stumbled through the dimly lit corridors, her heart shattering with every step.
She had fought so hard.
Endured so much.
But this—
This was the final blow.
Because Jack—the man she loved, the man she had sacrificed everything for—
Was about to become a father to another woman's child.
And there was no coming back from that.