My Husband Faked Our Marriage for Fame, So I Married His Hockey Rival

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My Husband Faked Our Marriage for Fame, So I Married His Hockey Rival

NovelShort Hoàn thành
StrongHeroineRomanceBetrayalBillionaire

"Your marriage is a $50 souvenir, Ms. Vance. And your husband's already married to someone else." In a single moment at the immigration office, my life as the wife of NHL superstar Liam Sterling evapo...

Chương (9)

第1章

Elena's POV "Your marriage certificate is a $50 souvenir, Ms. Vance." The words hit me harder than any stray puck I'd ever dodged on the ice. I just stared at the man across the desk, Officer Miller, whose face was as sterile and cold as the government office we were sitting in. "I'm sorry?" I finally managed, my voice sounding like it was coming from underwater. "That's a legal marriage certificate. I've had it framed on my nightstand for a year." "The registration number is invalid. The seal is decorative." Miller corrected, his tone dropping an octave, devoid of even a shred of empathy. He tapped the ornate, gold-embossed paper with a heavy finger. "It's the kind of thing you buy at a Vegas gift shop so you can pretend to be married for the weekend. In the eyes of the United States government, you are single." The room began to spin. The low, irritating hum of the fluorescent lights above suddenly felt like a drill boring into my skull. My hand went instinctively to the diamond ring on my finger, modest, elegant, and suddenly feeling like a burning brand of shame. “It's the playoffs, El,” Liam's voice echoed in my head, smooth as velvet, the same voice that had charmed millions of fans and convinced me to marry him in a secret, midnight ceremony. “Coach will kill me if I miss practice. Just handle the paperwork. You're the smart one.” I was the smart one. I was the head team doctor for the New York Glaciers. I had spent my career stitching up jagged lacerations and popping dislocated shoulders back into sockets while twenty thousand fans screamed for blood. I was trained to handle high-pressure, life-or-death situations with surgical precision. And yet, I had been living a lie for three hundred and sixty-five days. "There has to be a mistake," I stammered, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. "My husband, Liam Sterling... he's the star forward for the Glaciers. His management team handled the filing. His lawyers, " "Mr. Sterling's lawyers didn't file anything for you, Ms. Vance," Miller interrupted, leaning back and removing his glasses. "And even if they had tried, it wouldn't have mattered. Liam Sterling couldn't have legally married you last June. Or ever." "Why?" I whispered. The word felt like a shard of glass lodged in my throat. "Your husband, well, Mr. Sterling's already married to someone else." Miller turned his computer monitor around. The blue light of the screen blinded me for a second. When my vision cleared, I saw a database record. It was Liam's name. And right next to his name, under the heading Spouse, wasn't my name. It was a name I knew better than my own. Sophia Cruz, his manager. "Legally," Miller said, the words falling like guillotines, "Mr. Sterling has been married for three years." Sophia. The name was a slapshot to my solar plexus, knocking the wind out of me so violently I nearly fell off the plastic chair. The woman who handled Liam's schedule, his endorsements, and his public image. The woman who sat across from me at team dinners, calling me "sweetie" while sipping expensive wine. The woman who had literally helped me pick out my wedding dress for that "private" Vegas ceremony. “Oh, Elena, you look like an angel. Liam is going to die when he sees you.” She hadn't been helping me pick out a wedding dress. She had been picking out a costume for the fool playing the role of the secret wife. "They share a mortgage on a property in the Hamptons," Miller continued, his eyes finally showing a flicker of something, pity? "They filed a joint tax return last year. They are husband and wife in every sense that the law recognizes. You, Ms. Vance, are simply a guest in the country whose time is running out." "Professional commitments," I choked out, a hysterical laugh bubbling up in my chest. "He said he couldn't be here because of professional commitments." "Well, he's certainly committed," Miller said, sliding my 'souvenir' certificate back across the desk. "I suggest you sort this out with 'Mr. Sterling' immediately. Your work visa is tied to your status as his spouse, a status you don't actually have. You have thirty days to rectify this, or you will be deported." Thirty days. I stood up, my legs feeling like they were made of jelly. I didn't remember grabbing my folder. I didn't remember walking out of the office. I just remembered the cold, biting air of the New York afternoon hitting my face, jarring me back to reality. I wasn't a wife. I was a cover story. A prop used to protect the "Ice Prince" while he lived a double life with his real wife. I got into my car and drove, my hands shaking so hard I could barely grip the steering wheel. I didn't go home. I went to the one place where I knew I would find him. The arena. As the team doctor, I had a key card to the private staff entrance. I moved through the concrete tunnels of the stadium like a ghost, my heels clicking a death march on the rubber mats. I reached the locker rooms, my mind a storm of rage and betrayal, but as I reached for the door handle to the medical suite, I heard a sound that stopped me cold. Giggling. "Liam, stop... the boys will be back from the ice any minute." It was Sophia. Her voice was breathless, high-pitched, and intimate. "Let them look," Liam's voice followed, husky and deep. "I'm tired of hiding you, Soph. Once we get Elena to sign those 'adoption' papers for the baby, we can finally be a real family in public." "You think she'll buy the 'war orphan' story?" "She's desperate for a family, Soph. And she's 'the smart one,' remember? She's so busy fixing everyone else, she never notices what's right in front of her. She'll raise our kid and thank me for the privilege." They laughed together, a cruel, harmonious sound that shattered the final remains of my heart. I stood in the hallway, staring at the heavy metal door.

第2章

Elena's POV I didn't burst into the room. I didn't scream. I didn't give them the satisfaction of seeing me shatter. Instead, I turned and walked away, my heels silent on the rubber mats of the arena tunnels. Every step felt like a mile and every breath felt like inhaling shards of ice. The laughter behind that heavy metal door, that cruel, harmonious sound, echoed in my skull, mocking every "I love you" Liam had ever whispered into my ear. I didn't remember reaching the parking lot. I didn't remember starting the engine. The next thing I knew, I was gripping the steering wheel of my Audi so hard my knuckles turned white, the massive structure of the Glaciers' arena looming over me in the rearview mirror. A place I used to call my second home. A place that was now nothing more than a monument to a year-long lie. My phone buzzed on the passenger seat. A text from Sophia. Sophia: “Good luck with the interview, sweetie! Let us know when you get the Green Card. Liam is so worried about you staying in the country!” The hypocrisy was a physical blow. I wanted to scream until my lungs gave out. Liam wasn't worried about my visa; he was worried about losing his free nanny. He wasn't protecting me from "crazy fans"; he was protecting his real marriage. I was the "smart one." The best surgeon in the league. I knew how to identify necrotic tissue. I knew when a limb was too far gone to be saved. And Liam Sterling was a cancer. "If they want to play a game," I thought, staring at my reflection in the glass, "I'll play. But they forgot that without the doctor, the team dies on the table." But then, fate decided to play its own cruel joke on me. The bathroom floor was cold. I sat on the tiles of our master bathroom, staring at the small plastic stick in my hand. The silence in the house was deafening, heavy with the ghosts of a marriage that never existed. This house, bought with my savings, titled in his name "for tax purposes." Another lie. Everything was a lie. Five minutes. The box said to wait five minutes. I bought the test because the nausea I'd felt in the car wasn't just grief. As a doctor, I knew my body. I knew the subtle swelling of my breasts and the fatigue I'd blamed on the playoffs. Liam had spent months telling me I was "broken." “It's okay, El,” he would say, his voice dripping with fake sympathy after every negative test. “My swimmers are Olympic level. The problem must be your stress. Your body is just too tense to carry my baby.” He had made me feel like a defective woman. He had gaslighted me about my own biology to pave the way for his mistress's child. I looked down at the stick. Two pink lines. Bold. Unmistakable. Pregnant. A hysterical laugh bubbled up in my throat, choking me until it turned into a jagged sob. I covered my mouth, tears scalding my cheeks. I wasn't infertile. I wasn't broken. I was carrying the child of a man who was currently planning to use me as a pawn to raise his bastard. The cruelty of it was absolute. He probably knew I could conceive. He just didn't want my child. "You bastard," I whispered to the empty, expensive room. "You absolute bastard." My hand moved to my stomach. A life. A part of me. But also, a part of the monster who had destroyed me. The phone on the bath mat buzzed again, vibrating against the tile. It hadn't stopped for twenty minutes. Seven missed calls from Liam. Three from Sophia. And now, a new name flashed on the screen. Marcus Kane. The owner of the Glaciers. The man who held my career, and my future, in his hands. The vibration felt like a countdown. I closed my eyes for a single second, letting the heartbroken girl die and the surgeon take over. It was time to cut out the rot.

第3章

Elena's POV I wiped my face with the back of my hand and picked up the phone. Marcus was the one who signed my paychecks. If I wanted to get out of this mess with my career intact, I needed to handle him. "Hello, Marcus," I answered, my voice surprisingly steady. "Elena," Marcus's gravelly voice boomed. "Where the hell are you? Liam is going out of his mind. He says you left the arena without saying a word." "I wasn't feeling well," I said coldly. "Listen to me, Elena. I got a call from your immigration lawyer. He says there's a 'hiccup' with the marriage certificate. Something about it not being filed?" News traveled fast. "It's not a hiccup, Marcus. It's a fake. Liam never filed it. He's legally married to Sophia." I waited for the shock. I waited for Marcus to be outraged that his star player was a bigamist and a fraud. Instead, there was a pause. And then, a sigh of annoyance. "Look, Elena, I don't care about the paperwork," Marcus said dismissively. "That's personal drama. What I care about is the optics. The playoffs are in full swing. The Glaciers' stock is at an all-time high because of the 'Golden Couple' image you and Liam project. Fans love the star player and his genius doctor wife." My blood ran cold. "You... you're not surprised?" "I'm a businessman, Elena. I know Liam is... complicated. And I know about Sophia. She handles him well." He knew. The owner of the team knew Liam was married to his agent while pretending to be married to me. "So, you're okay with this?" I asked, my grip on the phone tightening. "You're okay with him committing fraud? With him using me?" "I'm okay with whatever keeps Liam scoring goals," Marcus snapped. "Here is what is going to happen. You are going to fix this visa issue quietly. If you need lawyers, I'll pay for them. You will stay by Liam's side until the season ends. No scandals. No breakups. If you leave him now, you destroy the team's morale. And if you do that, Elena... I will make sure you never work in sports medicine again. I will bury your reputation." The threat hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. They were all in on it. Liam, the star. Sophia, the handler. Marcus, the enabler. To them, I wasn't a person. I was a tool. A prop to fix Liam's injuries and polish his public image. "I understand," I said softly. "Good girl," Marcus's tone softened, dripping with condescension. "Go home. Make up with Liam. He's planning some big surprise party for you this weekend. Smile for the cameras." He hung up. I stared at the phone. Good girl. I looked back at the pregnancy test on the floor. Two lines. If I kept this baby, I would be tied to Liam forever. He would use this child. He would use it to control me, just like he planned to use Sophia's child. He would parade us around as the happy family while he slept with Sophia in the next room. And Marcus would help him do it. I couldn't bring a child into this cesspool. I couldn't let an innocent life be a pawn in their twisted game. I loved children. I had wanted to be a mother more than anything. But not like this. Not with him. My heart shattered into a million pieces, sharp and jagged. I picked up the test and walked to the trash can. I wrapped it in layers of tissue paper, hiding the evidence of the miracle I couldn't afford to keep. I picked up my phone again. My fingers trembled as I searched for a number I had hoped never to use. Women's Health Clinic - Appointments. I dialed. "Thank you for calling Eastside Women's Clinic. How can I help you?" a gentle female voice answered. I took a deep breath, trying to steady the shaking in my voice. "I need to make an appointment," I said, my voice cracking slightly. "Of course. What kind of appointment?" I closed my eyes. A single tear escaped, hot and burning. "For a termination," I whispered. "As soon as possible." "We have an opening tomorrow afternoon at 2 PM. Would that work?" "Yes," I said. "That works." I hung up and walked to the mirror. The woman staring back at me looked pale, ghostly. But her eyes were dry now. The sadness was being replaced by something else. Cold, hard resolve. They wanted me to stay? They wanted me to be the dutiful wife for the cameras? Fine. I would stay. Just long enough to get my visa sorted out through other means. Just long enough to collect every shred of evidence of their fraud. Just long enough to watch their empire burn to the ground. Liam wanted a surprise? I would give him one. But first, I had to cut out the part of him that was growing inside me. I lay in the guest bedroom, the one Liam never entered, staring at the ceiling until the sun began to bleed through the curtains. My hand rested instinctively on my lower abdomen. It was flat. There was no sign of life yet. But I knew it was there. A tiny cluster of cells that shared DNA with the man who was currently sleeping in a luxury hotel with his "manager." I have to do it, I told myself for the hundredth time. If I kept this baby, Marcus Kane would use it as leverage. Liam would use it as a prop. Sophia would probably try to harm it. Bringing a child into this war zone wasn't love; it was cruelty. But every time I pictured walking into that clinic at 2 PM, my chest tightened so hard I couldn't breathe. I shook the thought away. Survival first, Elena. Emotions later. I sat up and grabbed my laptop. The clock read 6:00 AM. I had thirty days. Thirty days before my visa expired. Without a valid marriage to Liam, I was just a foreigner on a work visa that was tied to... the Glaciers. Damn it. Marcus had threatened to bury my reputation. If I quit, he would cancel my sponsorship immediately. I'd be deported within the week. I needed a new sponsor. A new employer who was powerful enough to tell Marcus Kane to go to hell. There was only one team in the league with that kind of money and influence. The Boston Titans.

第4章

Elena's POV They were the Glaciers' sworn enemies. Their captain, Noah Blackwood, was the complete opposite of Liam. If Liam was the golden "Ice Prince," Noah was the "Dark Knight." Brutal, efficient, and notoriously difficult to work with. He had fired three team doctors in the last two seasons. Rumor had it he hated incompetence. I opened my email. My fingers hovered over the keyboard. I didn't need a resume; my reputation in the league spoke for itself. I typed a simple subject line: Subject: Dr. Elena Vance - Availability. I sent it to the general manager of the Titans. I expected a reply in maybe a few days, or a week. I closed the laptop and went to the kitchen to make coffee, then remembered the pregnancy. I poured a glass of water instead. Buzz. My phone lit up on the counter. It was a text message from an unknown number. [Unknown: "Teterboro Airport. Private Hangar 4. Be there in an hour."] I frowned. Who was this? Another text followed immediately. Unknown: "Bring your passport. - N. Blackwood." My breath hitched. Noah Blackwood? He had my personal number? And he was in New York? It was insane. It was dangerous. If anyone saw me meeting the captain of the rival team, it would be considered treason. Perfect. I grabbed my purse, my passport, and the medical bag I always kept ready. Forty-five minutes later, I parked my Audi in the shadow of Hangar 4. A sleek, black Gulfstream jet sat on the tarmac, its engines idling with a low whine. A man stood at the bottom of the stairs, flanked by two bodyguards in suits. Even from a distance, Noah Blackwood was intimidating. He was taller than Liam, broader in the shoulders. He wore a charcoal suit that cost more than my car, no tie, the top button of his shirt undone to reveal a hint of tan skin. His dark hair was swept back, sharp and severe. I got out of the car and walked toward him. The wind whipped my hair across my face, but I didn't flinch. As I got closer, his eyes locked onto mine. They were a piercing shade of grey, like storm clouds over the ocean. They didn't scan my body like Liam often did; they stared straight into my soul. "Dr. Vance," his voice was deep, a baritone that vibrated in the air. "You're punctual. I like that." "Mr. Blackwood," I nodded, clutching my bag. "I sent an email to your GM twenty minutes ago. How..." "I have alerts set for your name," he interrupted simply. "We've been trying to poach you for two years, Elena. Can I call you Elena?" The intimacy of my first name on his lips made me shiver, but not from the cold. "Elena is fine," I said. "But I think there's a misunderstanding. I'm still under contract with the Glaciers." "A contract that is contingent on a visa sponsorship," Noah said, his gaze dropping to the ring on my finger. "And rumors say Marcus Kane is threatening to pull the plug if you don't play nice." My eyes widened. "How do you know that?" Noah smirked, a dangerous curve of his lips. "I know everything that happens in this league. I know Liam is a fool. I know Kane is a snake. And I know you are the only reason Liam's knees haven't shattered into dust yet." He gestured toward the open door of the jet. "Come inside. It's freezing out here, and you look... pale." I hesitated. "I have an appointment at 2 PM. I can't leave the city." Noah paused. He looked at me, really looked at me. His gaze softened for a fraction of a second, as if he sensed the turmoil swirling inside me. "We won't leave the tarmac," he promised. "Just a talk." I followed him up the stairs. The interior of the jet was pure luxury, cream leather, mahogany wood, the scent of espresso and expensive cologne. He motioned for me to sit, and he sat opposite me. "Cut to the chase," I said, my hands trembling slightly on my lap. "I need a job. I need a visa sponsor. If you hire me, I can bring all my research, my rehabilitation protocols, everything. But I need it done fast. My status is... complicated." Noah leaned back, crossing his long legs. "I don't just want your protocols, Elena. I want you. My team is strong, but they break easily. We need the best mechanic in the world." "So, you'll hire me?" "I can do better than that." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a velvet box. He placed it on the table between us. I stared at it. "What is that?" "A solution," Noah said calmly. "A work visa takes months to process, especially if Kane tries to block it. He has connections in immigration. He can drag your application out until you're forced to leave." He was right. Marcus had threatened exactly that. "There is only one way to bypass the wait times and make you untouchable," Noah continued. He opened the box. Inside sat a ring. It wasn't like the modest diamond Liam had given me. This was a massive, radiant-cut sapphire surrounded by diamonds. It looked heavy. It looked like royalty. "Marry me," Noah said.

第5章

Elena's POV I choked on air. "Excuse me?" "Not a fake marriage," he clarified, his eyes darkening. "A legal, binding union. You become Mrs. Blackwood. As the spouse of a US citizen, your status is secured immediately. Kane can't touch you. Liam can't threaten you." "You're insane," I whispered. "You barely know me." "I know you're the best at what you do. I know you're loyal to a fault, until you're betrayed. And I know you need protection." He leaned forward, his intensity suffocating me in the best way possible. "I need a wife to stop my board of directors from pushing matchmakers on me. You need a shield. It's a business transaction." A business transaction. Just like Liam and Sophia. "I can't," I said, my hand instinctively covering my stomach again. The weight of my secret pressed down on me. "Noah, my life is a mess right now. You don't know the half of it. I... I might have medical issues to deal with." I thought of the appointment. The termination. Noah's eyes dropped to my hand covering my belly. His gaze lingered there for a second too long. Did he suspect? No, that was impossible. "Whatever baggage you have," Noah said firmly, looking back into my eyes, "I can handle it. I don't care about Liam. I don't care about your past. I'm offering you a future." He pushed the box closer. "Marry me. Join the Titans. And watch Liam Sterling regret the day he was born." My heart hammered against my ribs. Revenge. Safety. A way out. But could I drag this man into my mess? And what about the baby? If I married Noah, I wouldn't have to worry about money or safety. Maybe... maybe I didn't have to go to that clinic at 2 PM? The thought was a tiny spark of light in the darkness. "I..." I started, but my phone buzzed again. It was a notification from the clinic. Reminder: Your appointment is in 4 hours. The reality crashed back in. I couldn't marry Noah Blackwood while carrying Liam's child. It was a deception as bad as Liam's. I stood up abruptly. "I need time. I can't give you an answer right now." Noah didn't look disappointed. He looked patient. Like a predator waiting for the prey to realize there was nowhere else to run. "You have until midnight," he said. "Take the ring." "I can't, " "Take it," he commanded softly. "Just in case you change your mind. If you don't wear it by midnight, I'll assume the answer is no." I hesitated, then grabbed the velvet box. It felt burning hot in my hand. "Thank you," I whispered. As I turned to leave, Noah spoke one last time. "Elena?" I looked back. "Whatever appointment you have at 2 PM," he said, his voice dropping to a gravelly murmur, "make sure it's what you want. Not what fear is dictating." I froze. He knew. I didn't know how, but he knew. I fled the jet, my heart racing faster than it ever had for Liam. Then 2 PM. I was sitting in the waiting room of the Eastside Women's Clinic. The room smelled of antiseptic and lavender air freshener. It was a scent designed to be calming, but to me, it smelled like despair. I sat in the corner, my sunglasses still on, clutching a crumpled intake form. Reason for termination: The line was blank. How could I explain? My husband is a bigamist. His mistress is carrying his child. I am a pawn in a PR stunt. "Elena Vance?" A nurse called my name softly. I flinched. I stood up, my legs feeling like lead. I walked toward the door, my hand hovering over my flat stomach. Make sure it's what you want. Not what fear is dictating. Noah Blackwood's deep voice echoed in my mind, drowning out the clinic's hum. I stopped in the doorway. What did I want? I wanted Liam to hurt. I wanted Sophia to pay. But did I want to erase the life growing inside me? This baby was half Liam, yes. But it was also half me. It was the family I had prayed for during those lonely nights while Liam was "away on business." If I walked through this door, I was letting Liam win. I was letting his betrayal dictate my body, my future, my motherhood. I wasn't a coward. I was a fighter. I looked at the nurse, my breath trembling. "I... I can't," I whispered. The nurse looked sympathetic. "It's okay to be scared, honey. We can reschedule." "No," I said, my voice gaining strength. I crumbled the form in my hand. "No rescheduling. I'm keeping it." I turned around and walked out. I walked fast, bursting through the clinic doors into the blinding afternoon sun. I was keeping my baby. And I was going to make sure Liam Sterling never, ever got his hands on it. Two hours later, I was standing in front of the full-length mirror in my bedroom, staring at a stranger. Liam had sent a dress. Of course he had. He wanted his "wife" to look perfect for the surprise party he thought I didn't know about. It was a floor-length gown in emerald green, the Glaciers' team color. It was tight, backless, and stunning. It was a uniform. I zipped it up. It fit like a glove, hiding the secret bump that wasn't showing yet. I applied my makeup with surgical precision. Sharp eyeliner. Blood-red lipstick. I wasn't dressing for a party; I was dressing for war.

第6章

Elena's POV My eyes drifted to the velvet box sitting on my vanity. Noah's ring. The sapphire glittered dangerously under the lights. You have until midnight. I couldn't wear it. Not yet. But I couldn't leave it here either. If Liam found it... I snapped the box shut and slipped it into my clutch purse. It felt heavy, a solid anchor in a sea of lies. It was my exit strategy. My nuclear option. "Babe? Are you ready?" Liam's voice came from the hallway. I stiffened. "Just a second!" I called back, forcing a lightness into my tone that made me nauseous. I opened the door. Liam stood there in a tuxedo, looking every inch the charming superstar. When he saw me, his eyes lit up. Not with love, but with possession. "Wow," he breathed, reaching out to grab my waist. "You look incredible, El. The press is going to eat this up." The press. Always the press. He pulled me in for a kiss. I turned my head slightly so his lips landed on my cheek. I couldn't bear to taste him. "Careful," I teased, "you'll smudge my lipstick." Liam laughed, oblivious. "Let's go. I have a surprise for you downstairs." The backyard of our Hampton estate had been transformed. Fairy lights draped over the trees, a live jazz band played near the pool, and waiters circulated with champagne. It was extravagant. It was expensive. It was disgusting. "Surprise!" A chorus of voices erupted as we stepped onto the patio. Teammates, wives, sponsors, reporters. Flashes went off, blinding me. I smiled. My face hurt from how fake it was. "Oh, Liam!" I exclaimed, playing the part of the doting, surprised wife. "You shouldn't have!" "Anything for my queen," Liam announced loudly, making sure the reporters heard. I accepted a glass of champagne but didn't drink it. I held it like a prop. "Elena! You look gorgeous!" The voice grated on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard. Sophia Cruz emerged from the crowd. She was wearing a white cocktail dress that looked suspiciously bridal. Her hand rested on Liam's arm with a familiarity that made my stomach churn. "Happy anniversary, sweetie," Sophia cooed, leaning in to air-kiss my cheek. "Liam has been planning this for weeks. He's such a romantic." I looked at her. I looked at her stomach, hidden under the draped fabric of her dress. "He certainly is full of surprises," I said, my voice icy. Sophia's smile faltered for a second, but she recovered quickly. "Well, enjoy the night. Marcus is here, by the way. He wants to say hi." She steered Liam away toward the bar, leaving me alone. I watched them go. They looked like a couple. I was just the accessory. I mingled, dodging questions about when we were going to start a family. Every time someone asked, "Any baby news?", I felt a twist of irony so sharp it felt like a knife. Yes, I wanted to scream. I'm pregnant. And so is his mistress. Halfway through the night, the music stopped. Liam tapped a spoon against his glass. "Everyone, if I could have your attention," he bellowed, his charisma on full display. The crowd hushed. Liam stood on the raised platform near the pool, with Sophia standing just a few feet away, beaming. "Tonight isn't just about celebrating my beautiful wife," Liam said, gesturing to me. The spotlight hit me, and I squinted. "It's about family. As you know, the Glaciers are a family." Applause. "But Elena and I... we've been thinking about expanding our own family," Liam continued, his voice dropping to a somber, practiced tone. "We have so much love to give. And recently, we lost a dear friend. A brother in arms. Mike." My blood ran cold. He was doing it. He was doing it now. "Mike left behind a legacy," Liam said, wiping a fake tear. "And Elena and I... we are looking into adoption. To give a home to those who need it most." The crowd "awwed" in unison. Cameras flashed wildly. I stood frozen. He hadn't even asked me. He was announcing it to the world to force my hand. He was using a dead man's name to cover up his bastard child. Sophia looked at me from the stage, a smug, triumphant smirk playing on her lips. Checkmate, her eyes seemed to say. I gripped my clutch so hard my knuckles turned white. I could feel the hard edges of the velvet box through the leather. I wasn't going to let them win. I walked toward the stage. The crowd parted for me. "Look, she's so touched," someone whispered. I climbed the steps. Liam reached out his hand, expecting me to take it and play the weeping, grateful wife. I took his hand. His palm was sweaty. "Liam," I said into the microphone, my voice steady and clear. "That is... such a surprise." I looked at Sophia. Her smirk faltered. "But," I continued, turning to the crowd, "adoption is a long process. And honestly..." I placed a hand on my stomach. "I think we should focus on the blessings we already have." The crowd went silent. Confusion rippled through the guests. Liam's smile froze. His grip on my hand tightened painfully. "Elena, what are you saying?" he hissed through his teeth, away from the mic. I pulled my hand away. "I'm saying," I said, loud enough for only him and Sophia to hear, "that secrets have a way of coming out, Liam. Don't make promises you can't keep." Before he could react, a loud crash echoed from the side of the stage.

第7章

Elena's POV The large decorative scaffolding, heavy with lights and floral arrangements, gave a groan. It swayed dangerously. It was falling. And it was falling right toward us. In that split second, instinct took over. Or maybe, it was the truth revealing itself. Liam didn't reach for me. He lunged past me. He threw his body to the left, tackling Sophia to the ground, shielding her with his own body as the heavy steel structure came crashing down. I stood there, alone in the center of the stage, as the lights plummeted toward me. Then I fell into darkness. *** The first thing I noticed was the silence. No music. No applause. No crashing steel. Just the rhythmic beep... beep... beep of a heart monitor. I opened my eyes. The harsh fluorescent light of the hospital room blinded me for a second. I tried to shield my eyes, but a sharp, searing pain shot through my left arm. I gasped, looking down. My arm was encased in a heavy plaster cast. My head throbbed with a dull, heavy ache, a concussion, definitely. "You're finally awake." The voice came from the chair beside my bed. It wasn't Liam. I turned my head slowly. Sophia Cruz was sitting there, her legs crossed elegantly. She looked impeccable. Not a hair out of place, her makeup flawless, wearing the same white dress from the party. It wasn't even wrinkled. In her hands, she held a paring knife and a red apple. She was peeling it, one long, continuous strip of skin curling away from the fruit. "Where is Liam?" I rasped. My throat felt like it was filled with broken glass. "He's outside," Sophia said, not looking up from the apple. "Talking to the doctors. And the lawyers. And the PR team. You caused quite a mess, Elena." "I caused a mess?" I tried to sit up, but dizziness slammed me back against the pillows. "The scaffolding fell on me." Sophia finally looked at me. Her eyes were cold, devoid of any sympathy. A small smile played on her lips as she sliced a piece of the apple and popped it into her mouth. "And who do you think pushed it?" she whispered. I froze. "It was an accident," she continued, her voice light and conversational. "Or at least, that's what the police report says. Loose bolts. A tragedy." She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the bed rail, invading my space. "But we saw it, didn't we? In that split second when the metal came down... who did he save?" My breath hitched. The memory was burned into my mind. Liam lunging. Not for me. But away from me. Covering her. "He chose me," Sophia said, her voice dropping to a cruel purr. "He didn't even think, Elena. It was instinct. He protected the mother of his child. And he left you to rot." "Get out," I whispered, my hand clenching into a fist on the sheet. "Why? I'm just keeping you company," Sophia laughed softly. "You should be grateful. If you had died, I would have had to pretend to be sad at your funeral. That would have been exhausting." She stood up, brushing an invisible speck of dust from her dress. "Face it, sweetie. You lost. You're just the placeholder. The visa mule." "Sophia!" The door swung open. Liam walked in. He looked frazzled, his tie undone, sweat beading on his forehead. When he saw Sophia standing by my bed, his face softened instantly. "Soph," he breathed, rushing over to her. "Are you okay? You've been standing too long. The doctor said you need to rest. The stress isn't good for the baby." He placed a hand on her back, guiding her to the chair she had just vacated. He didn't even look at me. I watched them. My husband. Fawning over his mistress while his wife lay in a hospital bed with broken bones. "I'm fine, Liam," Sophia said, putting on a brave, shaky voice. "I was just... worried about Elena. She seems very agitated." Liam finally turned to me. His expression wasn't one of concern. It was annoyance. "Elena," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Why are you upsetting her? Sophia has been here for hours waiting for you to wake up. She's traumatized." I stared at him in disbelief. "She's traumatized? Liam, I have a broken arm and a concussion! She just told me she pushed the scaffolding!" "Oh, stop it," Liam snapped. "That's the concussion talking. You're hallucinating. Sophia would never do that." "She admitted it!" "Lower your voice!" Liam hissed, glancing at the door. "There are reporters outside! Do you want them to hear you screaming like a lunatic?" He walked to the side of the bed. "Look, I know you're in pain. But you need to be reasonable. It was an accident. I tried to save everyone, but it happened too fast." "You didn't try to save everyone," I said, tears of rage pricking my eyes. "You saved her. You left me there." "She's pregnant, Elena!" Liam blurted out. "She's carrying Mike's baby! My dead best friend's child! Of course I prioritized her! You're an athlete. You're tough. I knew you could take a hit. But Sophia... she's delicate." I knew you could take a hit. The words hit me harder than the steel beam had. Because I was strong, I was expendable. Because I was competent, I deserved pain. "I see," I said. My voice went eerily calm.

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Elena's POV I moved my hand under the sheet to touch my stomach. It was tender, but there was no cramping. No blood. The nurse had told me earlier, while I was drifting in and out of consciousness, that the baby was fine. Liam didn't know. And after what he just said, he would never know. "So," Liam checked his watch. "The doctor says you can be discharged tonight. It's just a fracture. We're going home." "I'm not going home with you," I said. Liam's face hardened. He leaned down, his voice dropping to a whisper so Sophia wouldn't hear, or maybe he didn't care if she did. "Yes, you are," he said. "Marcus just called. He said if you cause a scene or try to separate from me right now, he'll pull your sponsorship. Your visa expires in three weeks, Elena. Without the Glaciers, you're deported." I looked into his eyes. There was no love there. Only calculation. "You need me," Liam said, patting my uninjured hand condescendingly. "So let's stop the drama. Put on a smile. We're walking out of here as a united couple. For the team." He straightened up and turned back to Sophia. "Ready to go, Soph? I'll drive you home first, then I'll come back for Elena." "Okay, Liam," Sophia smiled sweetly. She cast one last look at me, a look of pure triumph, and took his arm. They walked out. I was left alone in the sterile silence. I reached for my purse on the bedside table. My fingers brushed against the velvet box hidden inside. Noah's ring. I wanted to put it on. I wanted to call him. I wanted to fly away on his jet and leave this hell behind. But I couldn't. Not yet. If I left now, I would be the "crazy ex-wife" who abandoned her hero husband. I would be deported. I would lose my career, my reputation, everything. And Sophia would win. She would live in my house, raise her child with my husband, and laugh about how she crushed me. No. I gripped the bedsheet. I would go home. I would play their game. I would smile for the cameras. But I would be watching. Liam thought I was just "tough." He was about to find out that I wasn't just tough. I was unbreakable. Returning to the house felt like walking back into a prison cell, except this one was decorated with velvet drapes and expensive art. Liam played the role of the doting husband perfectly as he helped me out of the car. He supported my uninjured arm, guiding me up the steps. "See?" he said, unlocking the door. "Home sweet home. No reporters. Just us." I stepped inside. The air was stale. The scent of Sophia's perfume, a cloying vanilla musk, still lingered in the foyer. She had been here. Recently. "I need to lie down," I said, heading for the stairs. My head was still throbbing from the concussion. "Wait," Liam called out. "I... I need to talk to you. About our future." He walked over to the kitchen island where I had left my purse earlier. He was holding a piece of paper. My heart stopped. It was the appointment slip from the Eastside Women's Clinic. I must have dropped it when I was fumbling for my keys, or maybe he had gone through my bag. "I found this," Liam said, his expression unreadable. I braced myself. He knows. He knows I tried to abort his baby. But then, his face softened into a look of pity that was even worse than anger. "Eastside Clinic," he read. "I looked it up. They specialize in... difficult cases. Fertility issues." He looked at me, shaking his head sadly. "Is that where you were going? To see why you can't get pregnant?" I stared at him. The slip clearly said Consultation, but he had filled in the blanks with his own narrative. He was so convinced that I was "broken" that he couldn't imagine any other reason for me to visit a clinic. "I..." I started to speak, but he cut me off. "It's okay, Elena," he said, walking over to hug me. I stood stiff as a board in his arms. "I know you want a baby. I know how hard you've been trying. It must be devastating for you to fail, month after month." Fail. He was talking about failure while his mistress was pregnant with his child. "But," Liam pulled back, his eyes gleaming with a strange, manic excitement. "Maybe this is a sign. Maybe God closed this door to open a window." "What are you talking about?" I asked warily. "Mike," Liam said. "You know... my old army buddy who died last year? Well, I found out something tragic. He had a girlfriend. And she... she passed away in childbirth recently." I watched him weave the lie. It was impressive, in a sick way. "She left behind a baby," Liam continued, grabbing my hands. "A little boy. He's in the system, Elena. Alone. No parents. Just like Mike." "And?" "And I think we should adopt him."

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Elena's POV The room went silent. "You want us... to adopt a random baby?" I asked, feigning shock. "Not random! Mike's son!" Liam insisted. "Look, Elena, let's be real. Your body... it's not built for this. You're stressed, you work too much, and biologically... it's just not happening. But this baby needs a mother. And you... you need a child to fix you." To fix me. He wanted me to raise his bastard son so that Sophia wouldn't have to deal with the sleepless nights, and so he could have his heir under his roof. He wanted me to be the free nanny. I wanted to vomit. I wanted to scream. But then I remembered the locked drawer in his study. The one he never let me touch. If I agreed... if I played the compliant, desperate wife... maybe he would lower his guard. I forced tears into my eyes. I made my lip tremble. "Oh, Liam," I whispered. "Do you really think... I could be a mother?" "Of course," Liam smiled, the trap snapping shut. "You'll be great. And Sophia... she's volunteered to help with the paperwork. She knows the agency. She can bring the baby over for you to meet soon." "Okay," I said, burying my face in his chest to hide my expression. "Okay, Liam. Let's do it." "Good girl," he kissed the top of my head. "I'll go tell Sophia the good news. She's coming over tomorrow to finalize things." He let go of me and practically skipped toward his study. "Oh, Liam?" I called out. He stopped. "Yeah?" "I need the tax documents for the visa renewal," I lied smoothly. "Can you leave the key to the filing cabinet? I want to sort it out tomorrow while you're at practice." Liam hesitated for a split second. But he was high on victory. He had the wife, the mistress, and the baby plan all sorted. "Sure, babe," he said. "It's in the top drawer. Just don't mess up my system." He walked away. I stood alone in the kitchen. My hand moved to my stomach. You want me to raise your son, Liam? I thought. I'll raise him. I'll raise him to know exactly what kind of man his father is. But first, I was going to open that cabinet and bury you. The next morning, the house was quiet. Liam had left for practice, whistling. I was in the study. The filing cabinet was a treasure trove. It didn't take long to find what I was looking for. Not just the tax fraud, but the transfers. Monthly transfer: $15,000 to S. Cruz. Real Estate Purchase: Condo in Manhattan, Co-owner: Sophia Cruz. Medical Bills: Prenatal Care, VIP Package. He was spending our money, money I had helped him earn by keeping his body functional, on her. I took photos of everything. I uploaded them to a secure cloud server that only I could access. "Working hard, or hardly working?" I spun around. Sophia was standing in the doorway of the study. I hadn't heard the front door open. She had a key. Of course she did. She was wearing a tight cashmere sweater that accentuated her small bump. Her eyes scanned the papers on the desk. "Snooping, Elena?" she tutted. "Liam won't like that." "I'm getting tax documents," I said, closing the folder calmly. "Like I told him." Sophia walked into the room. She didn't look convinced. Her eyes drifted to the open bag on the chair, my medical bag. Inside, a bottle of prenatal vitamins was visible. I had forgotten to hide it deep enough. Sophia's eyes narrowed. She reached into the bag and pulled out the bottle. "Prenatal vitamins?" she read the label. She looked at me, then at my stomach. A dark realization dawned on her face. "You didn't go to the clinic," she whispered. I stood up. "Give that back." "You're pregnant," Sophia said, her voice rising. "Liam said you were barren. He said you went to the clinic to fix your broken uterus. But you're pregnant." "It's none of your business." "It is my business!" Sophia screeched. She threw the bottle at me. It hit my chest and clattered to the floor. "He promised me! He promised my son would be the heir! If you have a child... a legitimate child..." Panic flared in her eyes. If I had a baby, her child would just be the bastard. Liam might stay with me for the sake of his public image. Her plan to replace me would fail. "You have to get rid of it," she hissed, advancing on me. "You're insane," I said, backing away toward the hallway. "Get out of my house." "It's not your house!" Sophia lunged at me. I dodged her. My cast made me clumsy, but I was still faster than her. I made it to the hallway, heading for the stairs. I needed to get to my phone. I needed to call the police. The front door opened. "Honey, I'm home! Forgot my knee brace!" Liam's voice boomed from the foyer below. Sophia froze. Her eyes darted from me to the stairs, then to Liam's voice. A twisted, evil smile spread across her face. "Perfect timing," she whispered. Then, she screamed. "No! Elena! Don't push me!" Before I could react, Sophia threw herself backward. She didn't just stumble. She launched herself down the carpeted stairs, flailing her arms, screaming at the top of her lungs. "STOP!" I yelled, reaching out instinctively to grab her, but I was too far away. She tumbled down the last four steps, landing in a heap at the bottom, right at Liam's feet.