Chapter 125: What if
Julian’s jaw was set so tight a muscle in his cheek pulsed, his protective instinct warring with the sickening echoes of the doctor’s voice.
"Shall we go, my love?" Julian asked. His voice was forced, a low vibration of restrained steel. He had a million questions screaming in his mind, but he refused to give Sebastian the satisfaction of seeing a crack in their foundation.
"Amara, wait... we... we..." Sebastian stammered, stumbling forward as if his world had been tilted off its axis.
Julian snapped. He stepped into the space between them, his frame shielding Amara completely. "You stay the hell away from my wife," he barked, the sound echoing like a gunshot against the marble.
"She is carrying my baby!" Sebastian shouted back, his voice thick with a calculated desperation. "How do you expect me to do that? This is a sick twist... It’s mad!"
For a fleeting, agonizing second, the floor seemed to vanish beneath Julian’s feet. The words hit him with the force of a physical blow, a cold realization clawing at his chest. He didn’t look back at Amara, but he could feel her trembling against him.
"Can we go home now... please?" Amara’s voice was a ghost of itself, barely a whisper. Her gown, once elegant, now felt like a straitjacket, the corset ribs pressing into her lungs until every breath was a jagged struggle. She just wanted the darkness of the car, the silence of the night, anything to escape the burning gaze of these two men.
"Amara, we need to talk about this!" Sebastian stepped forward again, reaching out as if to catch her.
"I will not warn you again to stay away from my wife, Mr. Creed," Julian growled, his hand tightening into a fist at his side.
Sebastian’s mask of concern slipped for a fraction of a second, a flicker of something sharper, something more possessive, gleaming in his eyes. But before he could speak, Amara’s voice cut through the tension, brittle and desperate.
"Mr. Creed, the hospital... they must have it mixed up," she said, her voice rising in a frantic pitch. She stepped out from behind Julian, her eyes wide and pleading. "I didn’t have any procedure of that kind. It couldn’t be me. I’m sorry. And besides..." she swallowed hard, the lie tasting like ash in her mouth. "I’m not even pregnant. So see? There is nothing to talk about."
She held her breath, her heart screaming the truth while her lips fought to keep the secret.
Sebastian looked at her, his gaze traveling to her stomach before snapping back to her eyes. He wasn’t buying it. He couldn’t.
"Amara, we need to be certain. We need to see a doctor," he said, his voice dropping to a low, manipulative hum. "I know this is overwhelming and crazy, but there could be my child growing inside of you at this moment and..."
He trailed off, his eyes darkening. Deep inside, a predatory thought took root: He was not going to let Julian raise his child. Not a chance in hell.
The tension in the hallway was a living thing, snapping and coiling between the two men. Julian’s eyes were dark with a fury he had never before directed at another person.
"You are sick, Sebastian," Julian spat, his voice dropping to a dangerous, low-frequency growl. "You heard my wife. She is not pregnant. If you have any more questions or any need for verification, you can go to that hospital, or you can come to me. Do you understand? Stay away from her."
Without waiting for an answer, Julian turned, his touch softening instantly as he wrapped an arm around Amara’s waist. He guided her away from the hallway, her legs moving like lead. Behind them, hidden by the shadows of the velvet curtains, Sebastian didn’t look like a man in mourning for a mistake. He watched them go, a slow, predatory smirk spreading across his face.
Amira caught up to them at the entrance, her face pale with worry. "Amara! I’ll come with you..."
"No," Julian said firmly but gently, stopping her. "Stay. It’s your engagement party. I’ve got her."
--
The inside of the car felt hollow. Not quiet, no...emptied.
Like every word that could have been spoken had been pulled out of the air, leaving only the low, steady hum of the engine as it carried them forward.
The city lights blurred past the window in soft streaks, gold, white, fading too quickly to hold onto. Amara sat pressed against the door, as if distance, however small, might help her breathe.
Her eyes stayed fixed outside. Unblinking. Unseeing. Her hands trembled so violently she had to slide them beneath her thighs, trapping them there... hiding the evidence of something she couldn’t control.
Julian said nothing. No questions. No accusations. No demand for clarity. He simply drove.
Hands steady on the wheel. Eyes forward. Waiting. Not for answers. But for her.
"I’m sorry..." Her voice broke the silence. Soft. Fragile. Like it didn’t belong in the space it had just entered. Julian didn’t hesitate.
One hand left the wheel, reaching across the small distance between them until it found hers. Warm. Firm. Real. He squeezed gently.
"Hey... don’t cry," he murmured, his voice low, steady like he was trying to anchor her to something that wouldn’t move.
"Just talk when you feel like it. Don’t feel pressured, Amara." That gentleness, It broke something.
"I’m sorry, Julian, I can’t be calm like you right now!" She turned toward him suddenly, the restraint snapping all at once.
The tears came fast, hot, uncontrolled, spilling over before she could stop them. "Amira and I... we went to see that doctor."
Her voice shook, words stumbling over each other, desperate to be understood.
"I didn’t go for a procedure. I didn’t...I only went for a consultation. I wanted to know if there was something they could do for us... for us to have a child." Her breath hitched sharply.
"I wanted us to have a family so badly." The confession hung between them, raw, aching, honest in a way that hurt to hear.
She pressed a trembling hand to her mouth, trying to steady herself. But the memory came anyway. Fast. Blinding. Unavoidable.
"I went unconscious while I was there," she whispered, her voice dropping, fear threading through every word.
"They told me it was just to help me relax... to make it easier..." Her eyes squeezed shut, as if she could push the memory away.
"But I knew something felt wrong." A pause. Her voice cracked. "My body felt different when I woke up."
Julian’s grip on her hand tightened, instinctively, like he was bracing for something he didn’t want to hear.
"Julian..." His name came out like a plea. A warning. A breaking point.
"What if they did it then?" The question hung in the air, sharp, impossible, devastating. "What if they inseminated his sperm into me while I was out?"
Her voice trembled harder now, fear no longer contained, spilling into every corner of the car. "What if..."
She couldn’t stop it now. Couldn’t soften it. Couldn’t take it back. "What if I am carrying his child?" Silence followed. Not empty. Not hollow. But heavy.
Because this time. There was no running from it. No shadows to hide in. Just the truth... standing between them, waiting to be faced.
Amara broke down completely then, her head in her hands, her shoulders racked with the weight of the violation.
Julian’s knuckles went white against the steering wheel. The protective wall he had built around his emotions started to crumble, replaced by a cold, calculating resolve.
"I knew there was something fishy about all of this," Julian said, his voice tight but focused. He pulled the car to the side of the road and turned to her, reaching out to cup her face. "But it’s a good thing you aren’t pregnant, Amara. We have that much. I’m going to dig deep into this, into that hospital, into Sebastian, into everyone involved. I will find out exactly what they did to you."
He leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers. "Just don’t worry. I won’t let him touch our lives. I promise."
"Julian... what if I am?" Her voice had changed. Quieter now. Not panicked, but worse. Certain... in a way that sounded like fear slowly turning into truth.
"I’ve been feeling weird for a while," Amara continued, her words uneven, fragile at the edges. "I just... I wanted to wait. To be sure." The confession settled heavily between them.
Julian didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His hands tightened on the steering wheel, knuckles paling, tendons straining under the pressure. The car stayed steady on the road, but inside him... something had slipped.
Something important. Something foundational. He stared ahead, eyes fixed but not seeing. Because of the thought. That possibility, it didn’t just disturb him. It refused to exist.
His mind couldn’t even form it without rejecting it immediately. Without breaking.
Amara turned toward him slowly. Watching. Waiting. Searching his face for something, anything she could hold onto. But what she saw instead made her chest tighten.
Julian dragged a hand down his face, the motion slow... heavy... like he was trying to wipe away something that wouldn’t leave. His jaw clenched.
His breathing shifted, deeper now, controlled... but not calm. Not even close. Still. He said nothing. And somehow...That silence felt louder than anything he could have said.
The car didn’t turn toward the quiet, gated community where their mansion stood. Instead, Julian swung the wheel with a sudden, sharp jerk, the tires protesting against the asphalt as he veered onto the highway leading back toward the city’s medical district.
"Julian?" Amara whispered, her voice trembling as she watched the familiar landmarks of their neighborhood fade into the rearview mirror. "Where are we going?"