Chapter 59

Ryan’s POV
I ran through every possible scenario in my head, trying to understand Ivy Hart’s audacious stunt at the jewelry show. Why there? Why now?
My phone buzzed, cutting through the storm of my thoughts. Keith’s name lit up the screen. I answered at once, putting it on speaker.
“Sir,” Keith reported briskly, “we’ve confirmed the pregnancy claim is completely fabricated. We located the doctor who issued the medical report—he’s confessed to being paid off. No actual tests were conducted.”
I exhaled, tension easing just slightly. But then Keith continued, his tone darkening.
“Also, there’s something else you should know. We’ve traced several calls between Ms. Hart and your uncle over the past three weeks. The frequency and timing suggest they’ve been coordinating.”
“My uncle?” I repeated, a cold realization dawning. “You’re certain?”
“Yes, sir. Multiple calls, usually late at night. We’re still tracking down their connection, but it appears they’ve been plotting something together.”
I ended the call, meeting Maya’s now-uncertain gaze. “Satisfied? This was a setup orchestrated by my uncle. Ivy has never been pregnant, and certainly not with my child.”
Maya’s stance softened slightly. “Even if that’s true, you still kept your entire marriage a secret. You let Serena feel like your dirty little secret for years. And now she’s pregnant and stressed and—”
“I need to see her,” I interrupted, desperation creeping into my voice. “Please, Maya.”
She studied me for a long moment before sighing dramatically. “Fine. But I’m warning you—if you upset her again, I will personally ensure you never see this baby. Ever.”
She stepped aside reluctantly, allowing me to approach Serena’s room. Through the small window in the door, I could see her lying in bed, face turned toward the window. Even from here, I could see how pale she looked, how fragile.
My child was inside her. Our child.
I entered quietly, not wanting to startle her.
But I noticed the faint shift of her breathing and the subtle flutter of her eyelids—signs that she had woken. She didn’t turn to face me, and I could tell she didn’t want to see me.
“Serena,” I said softly.
Her body tensed visibly, but she didn’t turn around. The silence between us felt heavy with all our unspoken words.
“Why are you here?” she finally asked, her voice small but sharp.
“I heard you collapsed. I came as soon as I found out.” I moved closer, cautiously. “Why didn’t you tell me about the baby?”
That got her attention. She turned finally, her eyes rimmed red from crying. The sight of her tears hit me harder than I expected.
“When exactly should I have told you? Before or after your girlfriend announced her pregnancy on national television?”
“Ivy is not my girlfriend,” I said firmly, sitting in the chair beside her bed. “It was all a setup, orchestrated by my uncle.”
Her eyes flashed with doubt. “Your uncle? What would he gain from that?”
I pulled out my phone, showing her the evidence my team had gathered. “Ivy and my uncle have been in contact for weeks. The pregnancy claim was completely fabricated—we have the doctor’s confession. My uncle is trying to destroy me, and he’s using you to do it.”
Serena looked at the evidence, her expression unreadable. I continued, needing her to understand.
“Since my parents died, he’s been waiting for a chance to take control of the company. He sees you as my weakness.” I hesitated before adding, “And he’s right.”
Her eyes snapped to mine, surprise evident in them.
“You are my weakness, Serena. Always have been.”
She looked away again, but not before I caught the conflicted emotion in her eyes.
“Even if that’s true, it doesn’t change anything between us,” she said finally. “We’re divorced. This baby doesn’t automatically fix what went wrong.”
“I know that,” I admitted, leaning forward. “But it does mean we’ll be connected for life. And it means I have the right to protect both of you from my uncle’s schemes.”
“I don’t need your protection,” she said, but the words lacked conviction.
“My uncle isn’t going to stop,” I warned. “This was just his opening move. If he’s willing to use Ivy this way, he’ll do worse. Much worse.”
Fear flashed briefly across her face before she masked it. She unconsciously placed a hand over her stomach—a protective gesture that made something primal stir within me.
“What do you propose?” she asked cautiously.
“Let me help you. Let me be there for our child.” I reached for her hand but stopped myself. “We don’t have to reconcile romantically if that’s not what you want. But we need to present a united front against my uncle.”
She studied me for a long moment, suspicion and calculation in her eyes. Finally, she sighed.
“This doesn’t mean I forgive you,” she said. “And it doesn’t mean I’m moving back in with you.”
“I understand,” I assured her, relief flooding through me. It was a start.
“This is about protecting our baby,” she continued firmly. “Nothing more.”
I nodded, though inside I knew differently. This was my chance—perhaps my only chance—to prove myself to her again.
To show her that I could be the man she deserved, the father our child needed.
“Nothing more,” I agreed outwardly.
But as I watched her drift back to sleep, exhaustion finally claiming her, I made a silent vow. I would earn back her trust.
I would keep her and our child safe.
And somewhere along the way, I would make her fall in love with me again.