Alice's POV
"I can't do this."
My hand froze on the car door handle. Miles had just pulled up to a mansion—no, not a mansion, a castle—with iron gates that looked like they could stop an army. Through the windshield, I could see the building itself: white stone, endless windows, gardens that probably had their own zip code.
"Alice." Miles's hand covered mine. "Breathe."
"Your family is in there." My voice came out squeaky. "Your rich family. Who are going to take one look at me and wonder why their billionaire son married a pregnant waitress he barely knows."
"They're going to love you."
"You don't know that."
"I do." He squeezed my hand. "Because I love you."
I whipped my head toward him. "What?"
But he was already out of the car, walking around to my side. My brain was spinning. Did he just—? No. I must have heard wrong. People didn't just casually drop the L-word after two weeks of marriage.
Miles opened my door and held out his hand. "Ready?"
"No."
"Good. Let's go anyway."
The front door opened before we reached it. A woman stood there—maybe fifty-something, with silver streaks in her dark hair and kind eyes that reminded me of Miles. She wore a simple blue dress, but somehow she made it look elegant.
"Miles!" She rushed down the steps and hugged him tight. "I was starting to think you'd keep her hidden forever."
"Hi, Aunt Margaret." Miles pulled back and turned to me. "This is Alice. Alice, this is my Aunt Margaret. She basically raised Emma and me after our parents died."
Margaret's eyes landed on me, and my stomach twisted. Here it comes. The polite smile that doesn't reach the eyes. The once-over that finds me lacking. The—
She grabbed me and hugged me so hard I gasped.
"Oh, sweetheart, welcome home!" Margaret pulled back, keeping her hands on my shoulders. Her eyes were actually wet. "I'm so happy to meet you. Miles told me everything—well, probably not everything because that boy never tells me enough—but I'm just thrilled he finally found someone."
"I—thank you?" It came out like a question because I didn't understand what was happening.
"Come in, come in! Emma's been bouncing off the walls waiting to meet you." Margaret linked her arm through mine like we were old friends and pulled me toward the door.
Inside was even more intimidating than outside. The entrance hall had a chandelier the size of my old car and a staircase that looked like something from a movie. But before I could panic about touching anything expensive, a girl came flying down those stairs.
"SHE'S HERE!" Emma—it had to be Emma—practically launched herself at me. "Oh my God, you're real! You're actually real!"
She was nineteen, wearing ripped jeans and a band t-shirt, with long dark hair in a messy ponytail. Nothing like the stuck-up princess I'd been terrified to meet.
"Emma, let her breathe," Miles said, but he was smiling.
"No way!" Emma grabbed my hands. "I've been waiting WEEKS to meet you. Do you know how hard it is to keep a secret from the entire world? I wanted to Instagram about it SO BAD but Miles said I'd be disowned."
"I said no such thing."
"You implied it heavily." Emma turned back to me, her eyes bright. "Okay, so tell me everything. How did you guys meet? Was it romantic? Did he do that broody mysterious thing he does? Oh my God, is the baby a boy or girl? Have you picked names? Can I be the godmother?"
"Emma, slow down," Margaret laughed. "You're overwhelming her."
But I found myself laughing too. Real laughing, for the first time in days. "I don't even know which question to answer first."
"Start with the romantic story," Emma said immediately. "I need details."
I glanced at Miles. His expression was soft, watching me interact with his family. Like this mattered to him. Like I mattered to him.
"We met at a hotel bar," I said carefully. "I was having the worst night of my life, and he... he made it better."
"That's so Miles," Emma sighed. "He acts all cold and scary with business people, but he's actually a giant marshmallow."
"I am not a marshmallow."
"You cried during 'The Notebook.'"
"That was ONE TIME, and you swore you'd never mention it."
Watching them bicker felt normal. Real. Like maybe I could actually belong here.
Margaret guided us into a sitting room—less formal than the entrance hall, with comfortable couches and family photos on the walls. I caught glimpses of a younger Miles with his parents, of Emma as a little girl, of moments frozen in time before tragedy struck.
"Sit, please," Margaret said, patting the couch beside her. "I'll have cook bring tea. Do you have any cravings? Dietary restrictions? Emma, stop hovering."
"I'm not hovering. I'm observing." But Emma sat down anyway, still grinning at me.
I sat carefully, very aware of the baby bump under my loose shirt. Margaret noticed immediately.
"How far along are you, dear?"
"Almost four months."
"And feeling well? No complications?"
The genuine concern in her voice made my throat tight. "I'm okay. Just tired sometimes."
"Of course you are. Growing a human is exhausting." Margaret patted my hand. "We'll make sure you have everything you need. The nursery is on the third floor—well, it's just storage now, but we can convert it. Unless you'd prefer it closer to your rooms? Emma and I can help decorate—"
"I already have Pinterest boards," Emma interrupted. "Three of them. Color-coded."
"The baby isn't even born yet," Miles said.
"Preparation is key, brother." Emma pulled out her phone. "Alice, do you like woodland themes? Or maybe celestial? Ooh, or we could do—"
The doorbell rang.
Everyone froze.
"Were you expecting someone?" Miles asked Margaret, his voice suddenly sharp.
"No." Margaret's expression changed. "Emma, did you—"
"I didn't tell anyone! I swear!"
The doorbell rang again. Longer this time. More insistent.
Miles stood up, his body tense. "Stay here."
But before he could move, the front door crashed open.
A man's voice echoed through the entrance hall: "WHERE IS SHE?"
My blood turned to ice. I knew that voice.
Derek.
Miles was already moving, but I grabbed his arm. "Don't. Please."
"He broke into my house—"
"ALICE!" Derek appeared in the doorway, and my worst nightmare walked into my new reality. His face was red, his hair messy, his clothes wrinkled. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. "We need to talk."
Behind him, Lily appeared. Of course she did. They looked like avenging angels come to rescue me from my "mistake."
"How did you get past security?" Miles's voice was deadly calm.
"I told them I was Alice's fiancé," Derek said. "That there'd been a misunderstanding. That she was being held here against her will."
"That's ridiculous," Margaret said, standing up. "This is my nephew's wife."
"Wife?" Lily laughed, and it sounded mean. "You actually married her? Oh my God, she really did trap you."
Emma moved in front of me. "Get out of our house."
"Not without Alice." Derek's eyes found mine. "Baby, I know you're scared. I know you think you have to stay because of the pregnancy, but I'm here now. We can fix this. We can—"
"The baby isn't yours," I said.
The room went silent.
Derek's face twisted. "What?"
"It's not yours." I stood up, and Emma immediately supported my elbow. "We broke up three months before I got pregnant. The timeline doesn't work."
"You're lying." But Derek's voice shook. "You're just saying that because he's rich—"
"I'm saying it because it's TRUE!" My voice came out louder than I meant. "I met Miles after you cheated on me with my best friend. After you told me I should be grateful you dated someone as plain as me. After you destroyed me."
Lily's face had gone pale. "Alice, we were trying to protect you—"
"By sleeping together in my apartment? By mocking me behind my back? That's not protection, Lily. That's cruelty."
Margaret moved beside me. "I think you should leave now."
"Not until—" Derek started.
"Leave," Miles said quietly, "or I'll have security remove you. And trust me, they won't be gentle."
Derek looked at me one more time. "You're making a mistake."
"No," I said. "I made a mistake three years ago when I believed you loved me. This—" I gestured to Miles and his family "—this is me fixing it."
Security appeared—apparently they'd been alerted. They escorted Derek and Lily out, both of them shouting threats and accusations.
When the door finally closed, I collapsed back onto the couch. My hands were shaking.
"Well," Emma said into the silence. "That was exciting."
"Emma!" Margaret scolded.
"What? It was!" Emma sat down next to me. "You were amazing, by the way. Very badass."
Miles knelt in front of me, taking my shaking hands in his. "Are you okay?"
"I don't know." My voice sounded far away. "I just—how did they find me?"
"I'll find out." His jaw was tight. "And I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."
Margaret's phone buzzed. She looked at it and her face went white. "Miles. You need to see this."
He took the phone, and I watched his expression turn to stone.
"What is it?" Emma leaned over. "Oh no. Oh no no no."
"What?" I grabbed the phone.
It was a tabloid article, already viral: "ASHFORD HEIR'S PREGNANT WIFE: Secret Identity Revealed! Father is Notorious Crime Lord Richard Zhao—Is This a Setup?"
Below it was a photo of my mother. Next to a photo of Richard Zhao. And a birth certificate I'd never seen before.
My birth certificate.
Listing Richard Zhao as my father.
"That's impossible," I whispered. "My father died when I was a baby. My mom told me—"
Miles's phone rang. He answered it, his face grim. "What? When? How many?" A pause. "Get everyone to the safe room. Now."
He hung up and looked at me with something I'd never seen before: fear.
"Security just picked up movement outside the property. Multiple vehicles. Armed men." His voice was steady, but his hands tightened on mine. "Richard Zhao's men. They're here for you."
The lights went out.
And somewhere in the darkness, glass shattered.