Chapter 2

 I never expected to be pregnant now.   Even less expected, Andrew completely didn't remember having me recently.   "Sign the divorce papers if you want that bastard."   Rooted to the spot as if paralyzed, I stood frozn for what felt like an eternity, a strangled sound catching in my throat, when speech finally came, "Andrew, this is truly your child. Try to remember—Months ago, when you drank—"   "Enough!" He interrupted me ruthlessly. "I don't care if I was blind drunk or stone sober—my heart belongs only and forever to Anna!   "Louise, drop these disgusting games. Did you really think trapping me with another man’s baby would keep you here? If not your parents forcing me to mary you with their power, do you think I'd spare you a glance?"   With that final blow, Andrew denied me even a sliver of rebuttal. Before I could draw another breath, the rustle of paper sliced through the silence—then the cold sting of divorce papers struck my cheek.   From the day I married him, I knew he'd never love me.   But it was fine. As long as I could guard that heart, I was satisfied.   Three years ago, I’d forced him to marry me. With my family’s power, with money.   But the truth was: Edward’s heart beat in his chest.   My Edward.   The one who loved me to death—literally.   In his last moments, holding me, he whispered: "Even gone, my heart will beat for you."   So I married Andrew without hesitation. Because he was Edward’s donor.   But now—… my palm pressed over my lower belly.   Three months ago. Edward’s death day. I sat at his grave. Stone cold beneath me. Wind whispering. One full day. One full night. I didn't move. Couldn't.   Then Andrew came for me. He shoved me against the wall, howling:" Louise! You ignore my calls! My texts!"   Drunk. Wild.   Eyes blazing—like Edward at eighteen.   My hand touched his face, trembling. "I’ve missed you so much."   The man froze for a second. Then— He carried me to the car.   Rain lashed against the car windows as I let myself drown in the moment.   Just let me… get close. Near the heart, his heart, thumping clearly even through the rain.   One more time. That was all.   One last time.   The sharp clack of heels snapped me back to reality. Anna stormed in, eyes blazing. "You! Playing the cool girl while scheming to trap him with a baby?   "Did you think knocking me off his radar would let you steamroll over me? "Her voice high and shrill, "Andrew’s lawyer drafted divorce papers weeks ago! His family sees me as his real wife!"   Her loud and harsh voice grated on my nerves, making me impatient. "If that's the case," I snapped, "why hasn't he married you yet?"   "You—!" She choked back, speechless for a moment. "Don’t push me! You think forcing that sham wedding means anything? Face it—you’re a nobody in that house! His grandma’s birthday gala tonight? He’s taking ME."   She flung a gold card onto the seat.   "Five million dollars. Sign. Or you and that bastard disappear forever."   The door slammed.   I let out a slow breath. They really were two of a kind, him and her.   Back when Andrew and I married in secret, he was still under my parents' thumb. But things had changed. Over the years, he'd grown stronger, bolder. Now he thought he'd slipped their control.   What they all seemed to forget was this: I was the mastermind behind the empire.   Five million dollars.   Probably the last coin in Anna's purse.   Andrew and I had a secret marriage. Publicly, he kept playing the rich playboy, swarmed by flocks of pretty women.   The Wilsons hated me and I stayed scarce at his events. But today was different.   At the old lady’s birthday banquet, when I showed up draped in crimson, not just the Wilsons froze—Andrew too lost his grip.   Step by step, I walked the red carpet.   Andrew’s icy eyes flashed hot, then froze dead cold. He strode over, yanked my wrist:"Grandma’s birthday is no place for you to crash this party."   The crowd buzzed:"Rumors said Andrew kept a woman hidden—her?"   "That secret marriage gossip... real after all?"   "Impossible! Only Anna’s by his side! Gatecrasher here for drama!"   Footsteps echoed. Heads turned. Then— silence.   The old lady rolled out in her wheelchair. "I invited Louise."   "Grandma?" Andrew choked.   Her eyes, cold and ancient, locked on him. "Louise carries the Wilson heir. My birthday—shouldn’t she celebrate?"   The hall exploded.   Anna’s face curdled like spoiled milk. By Andrew’s side for years—never named, never claimed.   Andrew exploded: "Louise! Your cheap trick? Sick! Even using Grandma, you’ll never get my heart!"   I breathed smoothly. Steadily.   Knew he'd say that.   Knew he'd choose her.   My pressed down the dumb ache beneath my ribs.   Then I moved, pulling a piece of paper from my bag.   "Grandma promised: the child stays, being the grandchild to the Wilsons."   Andrew froze. Confusion ripped across his face.   "I know you love Anna. After three years... I’m tired. I’ll sign the divorce papers—now—on one condition.   "You leave this house with NOTHING."   White. Sheet-white. Andrew's face drained of blood.   Anna swayed, shrill: "How dare you?!"   "Because I documented every cheat of his. Every lie. Because I bought the empire."   Years of ignoring business for Anna— Meetings skipped. Deals collapsed. Empire crumbling…   Only I could save it.   Grandma's eyes met mine. No words needed.   We both knew: Useless heir? Or legacy? She chose Wilson blood.   She’d sent for me yesterday. We had a deal.   "Louise! You viper!" Andrew spat.   I just smiled lightly, concealing the tears in my eyes. "You claim to love Anna... yet won’t be poor for her?"   I clapped. An assistant thrust a wedding ring at him.   "It was from Andrew's family when we got married. Never worn it. Put it on Anna now—before everyone—and I'll vanish forever."   Exactly as he gave me a choice then, I gave him one now.   The hall swallowed its own breath.   Tense. Waiting.   Andrew stood paralyzed.   Time stretched. Anna’s eyes flickered with doubt, then panic. "Andrew? Don’t you want us? Eight years I’ve waited... If it’s money... I have savings. We… we can start from zero..."   Her voice wavered. Weak.   "Waiting, Mr. Wilson?" I let out a short, mocking laugh. "Can't it be that you actually… want me?"   "Enough!" He grabbed the ring and rammed it onto Anna’s finger. And my pen shredded the divorce papers. Anna's chin lifted and triumph flushed her cheeks.   I turned away—   Loved Edward? Yes.   Wanted to guard his heart? Yes.   But compared to a child bonded to my blood, for the company of my rest years, I would to choose to let go of Andrew— without a blink.   Yesterday after Anna came, the phone rang:   "Louise, we regret to inform you—three years ago, your boyfriend Edward’s donated heart... was misidentified. It never went to Andrew Wilson."   So—keep the child. Cut the man.   My heels hammered the marble. Almost at the doors, his voice ripped through silence:   "LOUISE! I REGRET THIS!"