Chapter 2

ALEXANDER Five years later. Exhaustion was eating me alive— gnawing at me day after day. I'd endured it for five years— five goddamn years of this misery, and it wasn’t letting up. No matter what I did, or how much I tried to drown myself in work or distractions, it lingered. The divorce papers were signed and filed away like a bad dream, and that was the last time I’d seen her— but her absence was like an open wound that refused to heal. Don't get me wrong— I didn’t miss her. Not like a man missed his woman. Hell, I didn’t even love her anymore. I just wanted— no, needed — to know she was out there, suffering. Raising her child alone, without a penny. That would've been my only satisfaction in this mess. Instead? I had nothing but fucking silence! The real issue wasn't even that she'd left after ruining everything — that was a blessing, I’d wanted her gone. What gnawed me most was her complete disappearance. As if she'd never existed, and that pissed me off more than I could express. I glanced at the papers on my desk — contracts and reports that once demanded my full attention. Now, they were just a blur. My focus had been shot for weeks. I rubbed my temples, feeling another headache coming on. It was the same everyday — I went through the motions, pretending to function, but the man I used to be was gone. The job got done, but the passion? She’d taken that with her. I tried day in and day out to lay any thoughts of her to rest, they were toxic as fuck, but I couldn’t let it go. It felt like I couldn't be happy if there was a slight possibility that she could be as well. I needed to know she was hurting like she'd hurt me. It was even more crazy how she was still fucking me up long after I'd gotten rid of her filth. Her absence was like a ghost haunting me. My phone rang, the sound pulling me from my bitter thoughts. Silas. My private investigator. I’d spent a fortune on him over the past three years, trying to track her down, but each time he called, the results were the same. I picked up the phone, already knowing what he’d say but bracing myself anyway. “Tell me you have something,” I said, skipping the pleasantries. There was a pause, and his hesitation spoke volumes. Damn it. “Nothing. I'm sorry. It's odd… almost like she's dropped off the face of the earth.” I bit back my frustration. “Then you won't mind joining her, would you?” I knew I was out of line, but I was desperate. Silas sighed, already accustomed to my outbursts. “I’m sorry, Alex. I’ve checked every lead. She’s gone. No trace of her or the child. It’s like they vanished off—” “—the face of the earth?” I snapped, slamming my fist on the desk. How infuriating. The sharp pain momentarily distracted me from my rage. “If you mention that nonsense to me one more time, Silas, I swear…” “I’m telling you, man, I’ve checked every record — her tracks are covered so well. Maybe she had help. Look, I’ll keep digging, but you might want to start considering other options… getting another woman pregnant so—” “Don’t…” I warned, my jaw tightening. I closed my eyes— my grip on the phone almost crushing— breathing through the storm in my chest. “I don't know you to be this incompetent. How hard can it be to find an orphaned woman and a child?” I seethed. “There’s something— find it! I don’t fucking pay you to tell me what to do. Do your job! I don’t care what it takes. Just find her!” I hung up before he could respond. Anger surged, filling the hollow space where my heart used to be. How was it possible that in five years, I hadn’t found a trace of her? It felt like she’d wiped herself off the map, and I hated that she'd had the last word like that. Whereas, I had been left with nothing but a hollow ache in my chest and a son in a hospital bed, slipping away with each second. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. She should be out there, struggling — God knows she deserved it. And me? I deserved the satisfaction of watching it all, knowing she was paying for destroying our family. Instead, I was stuck in limbo, with my son dying and no sign of the one person who could help him. I hated that such power lay in her hands once again. Liam needed a sibling— a donor. And only she could provide that. My hands clenched into fists. I didn’t want to father another child just to save one. How would I look at them? Tell them they'd been born just because— Fuck! I shoved the papers off my desk, sending them flying. None of it mattered. Work didn’t matter. Only Liam did. I decided to leave for the hospital. I called my assistant in, barely glancing at her as I instructed, “Cancel the rest of my appointments.” There was no point in staying. I wasn’t going to accomplish anything in this state. She nodded and left the room quietly. At least someone around here knew when to keep their mouth shut. I headed straight to the hospital, the familiar smell of antiseptic hitting me as soon as I stepped inside. It made me sick. I'd spent so much time here— three years. As I approached the corridor leading to Liam’s room, I could already hear raised voices— My mother and fiancee, Eliza were arguing again. “I am not going to spend my productive days babysitting a comatose child Vivian! I am not his mother! I’ve said this a hundred times, if you want me to step into that position, you know what to tell your son to do—” Eliza’s shrill voice grated on my nerves. God, I was sick of hearing her talk. My mother, ever the pillar of righteousness, snapped back. “You knew what you were getting into when you got engaged to Alexander! However you act towards Liam now is testament to how you will act when—.” My jaw hardened as I walked past them, not bothering to mask my irritation but definitely not in the mood to get in the middle of their spat. “You can’t keep ignoring this, Alex!” Eliza yelled after me, turning away from my mother as she saw me walk past. “We’ve been engaged for three years! Do you really think waiting for Liam to get better is going to change anything!” I stopped for a moment, then turned to look at her. My jaw working, my eyes piercing into her. She seemed to get the message and her comportment changed from challenging to pleading. “Alex, please—” “Alexander, to you.” I snapped. I didn't care what she thought she was to me, only important people to me got to shorten my name like that. It irritated me when she did—and it reminded me too much of the only other woman who'd dared to do so and how much of a phony she turned out to be in the end. “Your mother keeps pressuring me to step into the role of a mother when we're not even married yet. Liam isn’t my responsibility, Alexander. He’s yours, he'll only become mine when—” “Then leave!” I barked. How dare she? Her eyes widened, “Y-you don't mean that.” I almost laughed. She had no idea. “I'm sure you know I do,” I said, my tone devoid of any warmth. “Yet here you are, still engaged to me. No one’s forcing you to be, Eliza.” Her eyes flared, fury rising in her. “You think this is easy for me? You’ve strung me along for three years. We should’ve been married by now, but instead, we’re stuck in this… this limbo!” I shrugged. “Liam got sick.” It was my go to response every time she brought this up. I knew how it infuriated her. I derived some pleasure in it. “You know you're just using him as an excuse to avoid the wedding,” she snapped. “Mind your words,” I said coldly. “Like I said, If that’s how you feel, perhaps it's time you get out. You’re not obligated to stay.” The words were sharp, intended to cut. I didn’t love her. Hell, I never had. Eliza was convenient; beautiful, wealthy in her own right, and willing to play the devoted fiancée. But love wasn’t in the equation. She scoffed, turning away, arms tightening around herself in self comfort. “I’m not going anywhere, Alexander. But you can’t keep avoiding this.” I didn’t respond— there was no point. I wasn’t avoiding anything. In truth, I didn’t give a damn about the wedding. Liam was all that mattered. I pushed past them wordlessly, stepping into Liam’s room where the doctor stood beside his bed. My son looked so small, so fragile—it killed me to see him like this, hooked up to machines, barely clinging to life. “How is he?” I asked, though I already knew the answer. The doctor sighed, flipping through the chart. “His condition is worsening, Mr. Sullivan. We need to think about the next step. Without a compatible donor… Well, the prognosis isn’t good.” I clenched my fists, trying to keep my composure. “What about the fetal donor option?” “It’s still the best chance we have without his mother present. She would have been his savior. If you decide to go down that route, we can begin preparations.” I glanced at Liam’s pale face, the machines beeping rhythmically, and my chest tightened. I wasn't sure how I felt about bringing another child into the world under these circumstances. But if it meant saving Liam... considering I couldn't find his whore of a mother. I nodded— my decision made. “We’ll move forward.” As I left the room, my resolve hardened. “Mother, Eliza,” I addressed them, expressionless, “You may move forward with wedding preparations. I'm ready.” Eliza would get what she wanted—a wedding, a child. But for me? It was all for Liam. I would do whatever it took to save my son, even if it meant marrying a woman I didn't love.