"Piers! I saw the news. How bad is it?"
"I'm okay." His voice was barely a thread. "I'm sorry. You're pregnant... I didn't want you to worry."
Tears splashed onto the steering wheel. I couldn't speak through the sobs.
Even now, even like this, he was comforting me.
"Sweetheart, I'm about to go into surgery. I need a million dollars for the operation."
The line went dead.
I didn't stop to think. I was about to transfer the money when the location screen, still open on my phone, made me freeze.
On the map, two pins sat nearly on top of each other.
Which meant that call had come from the villa just ahead.
How could he possibly have surgery here?
My fear peaked. I threw the car door open and ran.
I had to see with my own eyes that he was safe.
But the moment I reached the villa's entrance, I heard Piers Stephens's voice. And he was laughing.
"One fake news story, and the last million is about to land. All her assets are yours now. We can take our baby and finally be a real family of three."
Through the gap in the half-open door, I saw Piers Stephens with his arms around a woman. Not a scratch on him.
The world tilted. My first instinct, pathetically, was to make excuses for him.