Chapter 4Whose Child Is She Carrying?

"My spine is injured. I can't make it."

My knuckles were white as I gripped a torn shred of my canvas. My voice trembled with exhaustion.

A sharp, mocking scoff echoed through the phone speaker.

"Your spine? Nolan, if you're going to lie to get out of trouble, at least invent something creative."

"Tonight is the Whitmore Group's annual anniversary gala. Even if you have to crawl on your hands and knees, you will show up."

She paused, her tone dropping into a sinister, icy threat.

"The tabloids are already spinning rumors that our marriage is falling apart. If you don't show up tonight to play the loving husband and save our stock prices."

"Tomorrow morning, I will permanently cancel the maintenance funds for your parents' cemetery plot."

My fist clenched so hard my fingernails drew blood.

My parents were buried in the most exclusive, expensive memorial park in the city. It was the ultimate leverage she had over me, and she knew exactly how to use it.

"Send the address," I ground out between clenched teeth.

An hour later.

Wearing a loose-fitting black suit to hide my stiff posture, I walked into the grand ballroom of a luxury downtown hotel. My face was pale, my movements slow and calculated.

The ballroom was an ocean of designer gowns, champagne flutes, and blinding camera flashes.

Kate was wearing a breathtaking custom haute couture gown, radiant and glowing as she mingled with corporate elites.

And standing right beside her, wearing a bespoke tuxedo and a sickeningly smug smile, was Joshua.

Gleaming on his wrist was a limited edition luxury watch.

The exact watch Kate had gifted me for my birthday last year.

I stared at the scene, the nausea churning violently in my stomach.

Kate spotted me from across the room. Her smile faltered, and she marched over, her brow heavily furrowed.

"You look like you're attending a funeral. Are you deliberately trying to embarrass me?"

She hissed the warning under her breath.

I ignored her completely, walking straight past her to sit at an empty table in the corner.

The throbbing pain in my lumbar spine was intensifying by the minute. I needed to conserve every ounce of energy just to stay upright.

The host took the stage, tapping the microphone and inviting Kate up to give the keynote address.

Kate stood bathed in the spotlight, pulling Joshua up to stand right beside her.

"Tonight, as we celebrate the anniversary of the Whitmore Group, I have a very special announcement to make."

Her voice boomed through the high-end sound system, commanding the room.

"Mr. Joshua here will officially be joining the Whitmore Group as our new Executive Art Director."

"Furthermore, he will be the sole creative force behind the highly anticipated 'Cosmos' illustration exhibition opening next month in the city center."

The ballroom erupted into thunderous applause.

I sat frozen in my chair, feeling as if a lightning bolt had struck me directly in the chest.

That was my exhibition. I had spent six grueling months planning it.

She hadn't just shredded my original drafts. She had taken my blood, sweat, and tears, and slapped her lover's name on all of it.

I slammed my hands onto the table, forcing myself to stand. I shoved my chair back and marched toward the stage.

"Kate, what gives you the right to hand my life's work over to him?"

I pointed directly at the two of them, my voice shaking with pure, unadulterated rage.

The applause died instantly. Every single eye in the ballroom snapped toward me.

Joshua immediately shrank behind Kate's back, his eyes widening in performed terror.

"Nolan, what are you talking about? I painted every single piece for that exhibition with my own two hands."

Kate's face turned completely purple. She glared at the security detail standing near the stage.

"Are you idiots deaf? Drag this lunatic out of here right now!"

Four massive security guards in black suits rushed forward. Two of them grabbed my arms, twisting them painfully behind my back.

"Let go of me!" I thrashed wildly against their grip.

Kate walked down the steps of the stage, stopping inches from my face.

"Nolan, are you so consumed by jealousy that you've lost your mind?"

"You are a useless leech who can barely hold a paintbrush straight. You honestly expect these people to believe you created art of that caliber?"

She looked down at me, her eyes filled with absolute venom and disgust.

"Get on your knees and apologize to Joshua this instant. If you refuse, I promise you won't walk out of here tonight."

The surrounding guests began to whisper, the gossip spreading like wildfire.

"Mr. Whitmore is acting like a hysterical madman."

"I heard he's incredibly paranoid. He attacks any young artist Ms. Whitmore decides to sponsor out of pure jealousy."

The guards shoved my shoulders down, kicking the backs of my knees to force me to the floor.

The violent downward pressure triggered an explosive, blinding agony in my injured spine. My vision whited out, my consciousness slipping away.

I squeezed my eyes shut in total despair.

Just as my knees were about to hit the cold marble floor.

The heavy double doors of the ballroom were violently kicked open with a deafening crash.

A low, glacial female voice sliced through the silence of the room.

"Whoever dares to touch him will lose their hands tonight."