Novella14

Elara Voss lay beneath Dominic Ashford in the dark, biting her lip until she tasted blood, while he whispered another woman's name. "Seraphina…" His voice was hoarse, reverent — the voice of a man in love. Elara stopped moving. Her hands, which had been gripping his shoulders, slowly released. Dominic didn't notice. He never noticed. He finished with a low groan, rolled off her, and walked into the bathroom without a word. The shower turned on immediately — as it always did. As though he needed to wash her off his skin. Elara stared at the ceiling. The sheets beneath her were cold. She had been Dominic Ashford's contract wife for two years. The arrangement was simple: she would carry his heir, and in return, her family's debt of twelve million dollars would be erased. No love. No affection. Just a transaction. But Elara had been stupid enough to fall in love with him. She had loved Dominic since she was seventeen — since the night he pulled her from a car wreck on the highway, his white shirt soaked in her blood, his voice the only thing keeping her conscious. "Stay awake. Look at me. Don't close your eyes." She never closed her eyes on him again. For eight years, she watched him — from a distance, then from his bed, then from the cold side of his heart where she was never welcome. Tonight, she couldn't sleep. Her period was late, and a pharmacy test had shown two pink lines that morning. She was pregnant. She was carrying his child. She had planned to tell him over dinner. She'd even cooked his favorite meal, which she'd spent months perfecting. But he'd come home with Seraphina's perfume on his collar and told Elara he wouldn't be eating. Now, she heard the bathroom door open. Dominic emerged in a towel, his dark hair dripping. He didn't look at her. "The charity gala is Friday," he said, pulling on a shirt. "Seraphina will be there. Don't embarrass me." Elara's fingers curled into the sheets. "I've never embarrassed you." "Then don't start." He buttoned his cuffs and finally glanced at her. His gaze was clinical. "You look pale. Take your vitamins." He left the bedroom. She heard him descend the stairs and the front door close. Elara pressed her hand to her stomach. She had something to tell him, something that should have made any husband fall to his knees with joy. Instead, she sat alone in a bed that smelled like another woman's perfume. She reached for her phone and opened the contract saved in her files. Clause 14: *Either party may terminate the agreement if the surrogate pregnancy is confirmed and the child's custody is transferred.* Her hand trembled. If she told Dominic about the pregnancy, the baby would become his property. She would be discarded — debt paid, contract fulfilled, disposed of. But if she never told him… Elara deleted the contract from her phone. Then she opened a new search: *One-way flights from New York to Milan.*