Chapter 1 - Two Pink Lines
The nausea woke Ava Bennett before the alarm.
For thirty-seven mornings, she had opened her eyes inside Daniel Choi's enormous Lincoln Park mansion and needed several seconds to remember that it was now technically her home.
That morning was different.
She barely reached the bathroom.
Twenty minutes later, Ava sat on cold marble beside the bathtub, staring at a pregnancy test as though the small plastic stick had just delivered a verdict.
Two pink lines.
Positive.
She checked the instructions again.
Then again.
Her hands began trembling.
"No."
The word came out as a whisper.
Daniel couldn't have children.
Everyone had made certain she understood that before the wedding.
His attorney had delivered the information without emotion.
Permanent infertility.
Multiple specialists.
No realistic possibility of biological children.
And Daniel had never touched her since they married.
Thirty-seven days earlier, she hadn't been preparing to become somebody's wife. She had been trying to keep her father's construction company from collapsing beneath nearly three million dollars of debt. Daniel's organization had acquired part of what Michael Bennett owed, and suddenly an impossible solution had appeared.
Marriage.
The debts disappeared.
Her father's employees kept their jobs.
Her childhood home remained his.
And Ava became Mrs. Daniel Choi.
The source she had been given supported all of that brutal arithmetic: her father's financial collapse, the marriage arrangement, Daniel's reputation, and the medical diagnosis everyone treated as absolute fact.
But nobody had prepared her for two pink lines.
Ava stared at them until her vision blurred.
There was another truth she had spent thirty-seven days trying not to think about.
A man named Lucas Mercer.
Before Daniel.
Before the debt.
Before her father had looked across a kitchen table and quietly destroyed the future Ava thought she understood.
Lucas had been part of that future.
At least, she had believed he was.
They had dated for two years.
Six weeks before the wedding, Ava had thought he might propose.
Instead, when Michael Bennett's financial problems became public, Lucas disappeared almost overnight.
He stopped returning calls.
Then he sent six words.
I can't be involved in this.
Ava never answered.
She had been too humiliated.
Too angry.
And too busy saving her father.
Now she counted backward.
Her stomach tightened.
Six weeks.
"No."
She stood so abruptly that the test nearly fell from her fingers.
There had been one final night with Lucas.
Before she knew the full extent of her father's debt.
Before the marriage arrangement.
Before everything.
She closed her eyes.
"Oh, God."
Behind her, a floorboard creaked.
Ava spun around.
Daniel stood in the doorway.
Black trousers.
Black shirt.
Sleeves rolled to his forearms.
His dark hair was still slightly disordered from sleep, but his expression was already composed.
He looked first at Ava.
Then at her hand.
"What happened?"
"Nothing."
Daniel's gaze returned to her face.
Ava had learned something about him during their strange first month of marriage.
He almost never repeated questions.
He simply waited.
And silence seemed to become heavier around him until people answered.
Ava curled her fingers around the test.
Daniel noticed.
His brow moved slightly.
"Ava."
"I'm fine."
"You've been sick."
She froze.
"You heard me?"
"My room is twenty feet away."
Embarrassment flared.
Then fear swallowed it.
Daniel entered the bathroom but stopped well short of her.
He had always done that.
Distance.
Even on their wedding night, when Ava had expected demands attached to the agreement, Daniel had simply informed her that her bedroom belonged to her and his was down the hall.
He had never entered without knocking.
Never tried to claim affection she hadn't offered.
Never acted as though saving her father had purchased her.
That almost made this worse.
"Do you need a doctor?" he asked.
"No."
"Ava—"
"I'm pregnant."
Everything stopped.
The distant sound of Chicago traffic seemed to vanish.
Daniel looked at her.
Ava had seen businessmen hesitate before entering rooms with him. She had seen employees straighten when his footsteps approached. She had watched men twice her age suddenly choose their words carefully when Daniel became quiet.
She had never seen Daniel Choi lose control of his expression.
Until now.
His eyes dropped to the test.
Then returned to her face.
"Say that again."
"I'm pregnant."
His jaw tightened.
Ava's heart hammered.
"I took three tests."
"Three?"
"They're all positive."
Daniel looked toward the marble counter.
Two additional tests rested beside the sink.
For several seconds, he said absolutely nothing.
Ava's fear transformed into anger.
"Go ahead."
His gaze returned to her.
"What?"
"Ask."
"What am I supposed to ask?"
"You know exactly what."
Daniel remained silent.
Ava hated his calmness.
She hated the mansion.
She hated the marriage contract.
She hated her father for putting her there.
And at that moment, she hated herself most of all.
"It's not yours."
Daniel's face changed so subtly another person might have missed it.
Ava didn't.
His eyes hardened.
Not with rage.
With hurt.
Somehow that was worse.
"I know," he said.
Two words.
No accusation.
No shouting.
Ava covered her mouth.
Daniel turned toward the window.
Chicago stretched beneath a gray October sky.
"How far?"
"I don't know."
"Who?"
She lowered her hand.
"Does it matter?"
Daniel slowly looked back.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because you're my wife."
Ava laughed once, without humor.
"On paper."
Something flickered behind his eyes.
"You've made that very clear."
Daniel absorbed the words without reacting.
Then he asked, "Does he know?"
"No."
"Does he know about our marriage?"
"Everyone knows about our marriage."
"That's not what I asked."
Ava stared at him.
"No. I haven't spoken to him."
Daniel nodded.
Then he walked toward the door.
Panic surged.
"Where are you going?"
"To arrange a doctor."
"I said I don't need—"
"You've taken home tests. That's all we know."
She watched him.
"You're not angry?"
Daniel stopped.
His back remained toward her.
When he answered, his voice had gone quieter.
"You were forced into a marriage you never chose. Whatever happened before that is none of my business."
Ava felt her throat close.
"Daniel..."
He turned.
"But if you're pregnant, you're not going through it alone."
For the first time since the second line appeared, Ava almost cried.
Then Daniel's phone rang.
He glanced at the screen.
His entire expression changed.
"Stay here."
"What?"
Daniel answered.
"Yes?"
He listened.
Ava watched the muscles in his jaw tighten.
"When?"
Another silence.
"Who accessed it?"
Daniel's eyes moved toward Ava.
For the first time that morning, she saw something colder than shock in them.
"Lock the medical archive," he said. "Nobody enters until I arrive."
He ended the call.
"What happened?" Ava asked.
Daniel slipped the phone into his pocket.
He looked again at the pregnancy test.
Then at her.
"The records from my infertility diagnosis were accessed last night."
Ava blinked.
"What does that have to do with me?"
Daniel's answer came slowly.
"I don't know."
He opened the door.
May you like
"But somebody apparently knew we'd need them this morning."
And for the first time, Ava wondered whether the biggest secret in the bathroom wasn't her pregnancy at all.
