Liam stared at the file on his desk, but the words blurred together. The rain tapping against the windows of his office matched the storm brewing inside him. Since Elina's confession, sleep had been a stranger. His thoughts were consumed by a woman he barely knew and a child that, biologically, was his… but emotionally, still felt like someone else's.
He closed the file, pushing it away.
I married a woman I don't remember... and now she's carrying my child?
It sounded like a joke. A cruel, twisted joke.
His assistant knocked lightly before entering. "Mr. Collins, your father is here."
Liam stiffened. "Let him in."
Moments later, Arthur Collins stepped into the office, a man of perfect posture and commanding presence. His silver hair was immaculately combed, and his dark eyes instantly scanned Liam, sensing something was off.
"I heard there's a problem," his father said, sitting without being invited.
Liam didn't deny it. "There is."
Arthur studied him in silence. "Is it the girl?"
Liam exhaled slowly. "She's pregnant."
There was no reaction. Just a quiet, cold pause.
Arthur finally spoke. "Do you know if it's yours?"
Liam's jaw tightened. "She says it is. And there's no reason to doubt it."
His father leaned forward slightly. "Liam, you barely know this girl. You met her during one of your... reckless nights. You don't even remember her. And now you've tied yourself to her for life?"
"She didn't trap me."
"No?" Arthur's voice was smooth but sharp. "Then what do you call marrying someone you can't remember and finding out later that she's pregnant?"
Liam stood abruptly. "I don't need you to tell me how I've failed. I know I've made a mess. But I won't walk away from it."
His father rose as well. "You better be sure of that. Because if this girl has an agenda—and I suspect she does—she won't just ruin your life. She'll ruin everything I built."
Liam's eyes flashed. "You mean we built."
"No," Arthur said, voice like steel. "What I built. You're still trying to prove you're worthy of it."
The room fell into silence, the tension thick and suffocating.
Arthur adjusted his tie, then added with icy calm, "Be careful, Liam. Love isn't your weakness. Blindness is."
Meanwhile, at the penthouse...
Elina paced the living room, heart pounding. She couldn't stay in the silence any longer. The weight of Liam's coldness was heavier than her father's threats.
She picked up her phone and dialed a number she hadn't used in years.
"Hello?"
A familiar voice answered. It made her heart ache.
"Hi, Aunt Rose. It's Elina."
"Elina?" The older woman sounded stunned. "My God, sweetheart. Are you okay?"
Elina sat down, her voice trembling. "I don't know. Everything's falling apart."
"Talk to me."
And she did. She told her aunt everything—the secret marriage, the pregnancy, Liam's confusion, her father's threats.
When she finished, Rose was quiet for a moment.
"I always knew your father would try to control your life," Rose finally said. "But I never thought he'd threaten your child. That man is dangerous, Elina. You need to stay away from him."
"I don't know how," Elina whispered. "He still has power over everything. I feel like I'm drowning."
"Then hold onto what matters," Rose said gently. "That baby... is your light. And maybe Liam doesn't remember you now, but if there's one thing I believe in, it's this: a man doesn't forget the woman who truly mattered. Not forever."
Tears streamed down Elina's cheeks. "Thank you."
"You're stronger than you think, darling. Don't let them break you."
That night, Liam returned home late. Elina was in the bedroom, sitting on the bed, wrapped in one of his old sweaters. He paused in the doorway, watching her for a moment.
"You called someone," he said quietly.
She turned to him, surprised. "How do you know?"
"I saw the call log." He stepped inside. "Aunt Rose?"
She nodded. "I needed someone to talk to."
Liam's expression softened just slightly. "I'm sorry for the way I've treated you."
Elina blinked. "What?"
"I've been… distant. Cold. And you didn't deserve that."
She stood slowly. "You're scared. I get it."
"I am," he admitted. "I don't know how to be a husband. I definitely don't know how to be a father."
Elina walked over to him. "I'm scared too, Liam. But I'm not running away."
He looked into her eyes, and for a second, something flickered—recognition, maybe? His hand lifted, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"Elina…" he murmured, as if trying to remember.
But before anything more could be said, his phone rang.
He answered reluctantly. "Yes?"
His expression shifted. "What? When?"
Elina watched his body go rigid.
"We'll be there."
He ended the call and looked at her. "That was the hospital. Your father... he's been admitted. Heart attack."
Elina's heart dropped. "What?"
Liam grabbed his keys. "Let's go."
At the hospital...
The sterile smell of antiseptic and the beeping machines sent chills down Elina's spine. Her father lay pale and unconscious, tubes attached to his body. A doctor spoke in hushed tones, explaining the condition. Stress, high blood pressure, poor diet—years of control had finally turned inward.
Elina stood by the glass, staring at the man who had once terrified her. Now, he looked fragile. Small. Mortal.
Liam stood beside her, saying nothing.
"I should feel something," Elina whispered. "But I don't. I only feel empty."
Liam gently took her hand.
She didn't pull away.
That night, as they returned home, something had shifted between them.
Still fragile, still uncertain—but the first crack in the walls between them had formed.
And from that crack… something real might grow.