The doctor sighed, the weight of the news heavy on his expression. "She's out of danger."
Nick sagged against the wall, relief crashing over him so hard his knees nearly buckled.
"But," the doctor continued, "she took a significant amount of sleeping pills. It could have been fatal."
Nick swallowed hard, his pulse still racing. "And?"
"She was lucky. And so was the child."
Silence.
Nick's breath caught in his throat. "What… what did you just say?"
The doctor's expression softened. "She's pregnant."
The world tilted.
Nick felt the air leave his lungs, felt the ground slip beneath him. "Pregnant?" he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper.
"She didn't know, did she?" Nick's voice was raw.
The doctor shook his head. "No."
Before Nick's mother could ask the question, the doctor answered it.
"The child belongs to you, Mr. Nick."
Nick's heart clenched.
"I treated her before," the doctor continued, as if sensing the unspoken doubt in the room. "I saw the media frenzy. There's no mistake. The child is yours."
Nick felt his knees hit the floor, his hands gripping his face as a sob tore through him.
A child.
His child.
Hours passed.
Jane had been moved to a private room, her body still weak from the overdose.
Nick sat beside her bed, his fingers wrapped around hers, unwilling to let go.
Her face looked peaceful now, her chest rising and falling in steady breaths. But he had seen her lifeless in his arms once, and the image wouldn't leave his mind.
He had almost lost her.
Guilt gnawed at his insides.
His thumb brushed over her hand, a silent promise to never let this happen again.
Then—
A small movement.
Her fingers twitched.
Nick sat up instantly, his breath catching.
Her eyelashes fluttered.
Then, slowly—so slowly—her eyes opened.
At first, she looked disoriented, her gaze darting around the room. Then, her eyes found his.
Her lips parted in a shaky breath.
"Nick…"
A sob broke from him as he surged forward, pulling her into his arms.
Her body was weak, fragile, but she clung to him just as desperately.
"I thought I lost you," he whispered into her hair, his voice thick with emotion. "God, Jane… I thought—"
She let out a soft, broken cry. "You saved me?"
His arms tightened around her. "Of course, I did."
She pulled back slightly, searching his face. "Why?"
Nick's heart clenched. "Jane—"
"No, Nick." Tears welled in her eyes. "Why did you save me?"
Everything inside him ached at the question.
Because she mattered. Because he loved her. Because he couldn't imagine a world where she didn't exist.
Instead, he cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing away her tears.
"Because I love you, Jane.
Her lips trembled. Her eyes, glassy with unshed tears, held his.
Then she whispered, "Everything is over now?"
He nodded. "Yes. It's over."
Paul was gone. The nightmare was over.
Her fingers moved down, resting lightly against her stomach.
Nick followed her gaze, his breath catching.
She didn't know yet.
Nick swallowed hard, his heart hammering as he covered her hand with his own.
The soft creak of the door made Jane glance up just as a nurse entered, followed closely by Maria and a few of her friends.
Maria's face crumpled the moment she saw Jane awake. "I'm so sorry," she choked out, rushing forward and wrapping her arms around her.
Jane let out a broken sob, clinging to her friend. "No… I'm sorry. He hurt you because of me."
Maria pulled back, shaking her head fiercely. "It's not your fault, Jane. Don't ever think that."
Jane sniffled, her gaze searching Maria's bruised face before shifting to Nick. "What… what happened?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Nick let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Paul got arrested," he said, his tone firm but laced with exhaustion.
Jane's breath caught. "What?"
Nick crouched beside her, taking her hand in his. "I brought the cops with me to the wedding," he explained, his grip tightening as if to reassure her. "I gathered everything—every piece of evidence I could find. The videos he had of you while you were captive… it was all solid proof. He can't escape this time, Jane. I made sure of it."
Her lips parted, disbelief washing over her like a tidal wave. "He's really… gone?"
Nick nodded. "He's in custody. He won't hurt you again. It's over."
Jane let out a shaky breath, her body sagging in relief. The weight she had carried for so long—the fear, the helplessness—slowly started to lift.
Maria squeezed her shoulder gently. "You're free now, Jane."
Free.
Jane's lips trembled, but before she could say anything, the nurse gently interrupted.
"You need to be careful, Miss Jane," she said, her voice kind but firm. "No more tears. It's not safe for your child."
Silence.
Jane froze.
The words felt like they didn't belong in the moment, like she had misheard.
"My… child?" she whispered, her heart pounding.
The nurse nodded, smiling softly.
Jane turned to Nick, eyes wide, searching his face.
Nick was already looking at her, his entire expression lighting up like the sun breaking through a storm. He reached for her hand, squeezing it gently.
"Yes, Jane," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "We're having a baby."
Her breath hitched.
Her heart—so heavy for so long—suddenly felt light, soaring with a feeling she hadn't known in so long.
A child.
Their child.
Tears welled in her eyes again, but this time, they weren't from sadness. She covered her mouth with her hand, overwhelmed.
Nick grinned, his own eyes glistening as he pulled her into his arms. "You're pregnant," he whispered again, as if saying it out loud would make it more real. His arms tightened around her, as if he could protect both her and the tiny life growing inside her forever.
Maria gasped, breaking into laughter through her own tears. "Jane! Oh my God, you're going to be a mom!"
The room shifted, sorrow melting away as joy took its place.
One by one, her friends joined in, embracing her, their words of love and excitement filling the air.
Near the doorway, Nick's mother clasped her husband's hand, her face glowing with pride. "We're going to be grandparents soon," she said, her voice filled with a happiness that was contagious.
Nick's father gave his son a firm clap on the back. "Looks like you have an even bigger reason to protect her now."
Nick nodded, his chest swelling with emotion.
Just then, the doctor re-entered, smiling at the warmth in the room. "It's good to see everyone so happy," he said. "But let's not forget—Jane needs rest. Keep her stress levels low."
Jane wiped at her tears, nodding. "I will," she promised.
For the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn't just hoping for happiness—she could feel it.
There was a future ahead.
Not just for her and Nick.
But for the little life they had created.
And this time, she knew—she was finally free.
One Month Later
Jane stood in front of the mirror, breathless. The woman staring back at her hardly felt real. The wedding gown hugged her curves perfectly, delicate lace tracing over her shoulders like a whisper of dreams finally coming true. A soft glow radiated from her face, happiness shimmering in her eyes.
Behind her, laughter filled the room. Richard's wife, Emily, fluffed Jane's veil, fussing over every last detail. "You look like a queen," she said, snapping pictures on her phone.
Jane let out a nervous laugh, smoothing her hands over the fabric of her dress. "I still can't believe this is happening."
"It is happening," Maria grinned, stepping beside her. "And you deserve every second of it."
A week before, Nick had flown across the country to meet Jane's parents. It had been a nerve-wracking moment—her parents, still hesitant after everything that had happened, weren't easily convinced. But Nick had sat across from them, looked them in the eye, and told them exactly what was in his heart.
"I love your daughter," he had said, voice unwavering. "And I will spend the rest of my life making sure she knows it."
Her mother had teared up. Her father had studied Nick for a long, quiet moment before finally sighing. "You better keep that promise," he had said, and Nick had simply nodded.
Now, as Jane stood surrounded by love, she felt a sense of peace she never thought possible.
The wedding venue was a dream—soft golden lights strung across the ceiling, flowers cascading down the aisle, the scent of roses and fresh linen in the air. When the music started, Jane took a deep breath, linking her arm through her father's.
"You ready?" he whispered.
She swallowed hard, nodding. "More than ever."
As she walked down the aisle, her eyes locked onto Nick's. He stood at the altar, dressed in a sharp black suit, his expression filled with nothing but pure adoration.
And when she reached him, when he took her hands in his, she knew—he was the one.
They exchanged vows beneath a canopy of flowers, their words filled with promises of forever. There were tears, laughter, and a kiss that sealed not just their marriage but a love that had fought through fire and survived.
That night, as the celebration carried on, Jane rested her head against Nick's chest, watching their families laugh and dance together.
"We made it," she whispered.
Nick kissed the top of her head. "We did."
And in the months that followed, their love only grew.
Their son was born on a rainy afternoon, his tiny fingers curling around Nick's as he let out his first cry. Jane, exhausted but glowing, watched as Nick held their son for the first time, awe written all over his face.
"He's perfect," Nick whispered.
Jane smiled, reaching for his hand. "He has the best father in the world."
Nick looked at her then, eyes filled with a love so deep it left her breathless. "And he has the strongest mother."
As the rain tapped softly against the window, they held their son between them, a new beginning cradled in their arms.
And for the first time in a long time, Jane knew—this was the life she had fought for. The love she had waited for.
And it was only the beginning.
He's Back
Paul didn't waste his time in prison repenting. He spent it waiting. Watching. Planning.
The moment Luke visited him after his arrest, Paul knew. He saw it in Luke's guilty eyes before he even spoke the words.
"I helped Nick."
Paul's breath had caught in his throat. His fingers curled into fists, his nails digging into his palms. Luke betrayed me.
But he couldn't lose his temper—not yet. Instead, he forced a smile, his voice calm and understanding. "It's alright," he said, placing a hand on Luke's shoulder. "You were only looking out for me. I understand now."
Luke let out a breath of relief. Paul watched him closely, hiding the storm brewing inside him.
That night, alone in his cell, the facade shattered. His fists met the cold concrete wall, over and over again, until his knuckles bled. He had been sentenced to five years. No way out. Nick had made sure of that.
But Paul wasn't done.
Luke became his only source of information. Each visit, Paul smiled, acted like the man who had learned his lesson. And each time, he asked about her.
"How is Jane?"
"Is she happy?"
"I'm glad she's moved on."
Lies. Every word tasted like poison.
The day Luke told him Jane had given birth to a son, Paul could barely breathe. He had to fight to keep his voice even as he said, "I'm happy for her."
But he wasn't.
That child should have been his.
Five years passed. Slowly. Painfully.
But when Paul walked out of that prison, he wasn't the same man who went in. He had become a beast. His body, hardened by years of training, carried an unshakable strength. His eyes, darker, colder, held no trace of mercy.
Luke was waiting for him, ready to drive him home.
"Damn, Paul," Luke whistled as he took in his transformed friend. "You look... different."
Paul smirked. He said nothing.
They drove in silence, and when Luke dropped him off at his penthouse, Paul stepped inside and let the memories crash over him.
Jane.
The way she had looked at him with lifeless eyes. Her last smile before she collapsed.
He would never forget it.
For a month, Paul kept a low profile. He waited, studied, and prepared.
When the time was right, he shaved his beard, dressed sharply, and slipped back into the world as if he had never left. A crisp white shirt covered the tattoos on his forearms, but nothing could mask the darkness in his heart.
He slid into his car and drove, his mind fixed on one thing.
Jane.
He knew her schedule. 1 PM. Every day. She picks up her son from school.
Parking across the street, he leaned back against his car, slipping on a pair of sunglasses. He waited.
And then, there she was.
Paul's breath hitched.
She was stunning. Time had done nothing to her—if anything, she had grown even more beautiful. There was a glow to her, a kind of happiness that made his chest tighten with something bitter and raw.
Then, his gaze fell on the little boy who came running toward her.
Paul's stomach twisted.
The child had Jane's features—her eyes, her delicate nose, her smile.
It should have been mine.
Jane laughed as she lifted the boy into her arms, pressing a kiss to his cheek. The sound of her happiness, so effortless, so real, burned through Paul like fire.
His fingers clenched.
She had moved on.
She had forgotten him.
As she set the boy in the passenger seat and moved to the driver's side, Paul saw it happen.
She looked up.
Their eyes met.
Even behind his sunglasses, he knew the moment she recognized him. Her face went pale. Her body tensed.
A bus roared past, cutting off her line of sight.
And by the time it passed—
He was gone.
But He Wasn't Really Gone.
Paul smirked as he walked away.
He had seen the panic in her eyes.
She knew.
He was back.
And he wasn't going anywhere.
As Jane drove away, her hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, her breath uneven. It couldn't be. It couldn't be him.
She stole a glance at the rearview mirror, but the street was empty now. Just the usual cars, parents picking up their kids, life moving on as if nothing had happened. But she knew what she saw.
Paul.
The name alone sent a shiver down her spine. Her stomach twisted, nausea rising as memories she had buried deep threatened to resurface. The cold touch of his hand. The way he looked at her like she belonged to him. The night she almost lost everything.
"Mommy?" a small voice broke through her thoughts.
Jane forced herself to breathe, turning to her son with a reassuring smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Yes, sweetheart?"
The little boy tilted his head, watching her closely. "Why do you look scared?"
Jane swallowed hard, forcing down the panic clawing at her throat. "I'm not scared, baby," she whispered, brushing his dark curls back. "Everything is fine."
But it wasn't.
Her fingers trembled as she reached for her phone. Nick. She needed to tell Nick.
Just as she unlocked the screen, a message popped up.
Unknown Number: Did you miss me, Jane?
Her breath hitched. Her blood ran ice cold.
The light ahead turned red, and her car rolled to a stop. The world around her blurred, sounds fading into a dull hum. Her pulse roared in her ears.
Then, as if on cue, a black car pulled up beside hers. The tinted window rolled down just enough for her to see.
A smirk.
A pair of familiar dark eyes behind sleek sunglasses.
Paul.
Jane's breath caught in her throat, her grip on the phone tightening. The car beside her didn't move. He just sat there, watching. Waiting.
The light turned green.
Jane slammed her foot on the gas, her heart racing faster than ever.
But deep down, she knew.
Paul was back.
And this time, he wasn't going to let her go.
TO BE CONTINUED…