Chapter 180

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the hospital corridor as Sophia paced restlessly.

Her fingers trembled as she clutched her phone, the screen still dark. No calls. No messages.

Liam had been missing for hours.

Ethan Blackwood’s voice crackled through the phone when she finally dialed him. "Any news?"

"Nothing yet," he replied, his tone strained. "But we’ll find him."

She wanted to believe him. She had to.

The police had been notified. Daniel Carter, her new partner, was already coordinating a search.

But every passing minute felt like an eternity.

Her mind raced with worst-case scenarios. Had someone taken him? Was this revenge?

A sudden vibration in her hand made her jump.

Unknown number.

Her breath hitched as she answered.

A distorted voice chuckled on the other end. "Looking for someone, Mrs. Blackwood?"

Her blood ran cold.

The line went dead before she could respond.

Sophia’s knees buckled.

This wasn’t a coincidence.

This was a trap.

And Liam was the bait.

I decide to indulge in some self-care today. A soft, natural makeup look—peach-toned lips, subtle bronzer, just enough to enhance my features without being overbearing. My hair, usually straight, gets a playful treatment with curling irons, the waves cascading down my shoulders. Satisfied with my reflection, I slip into my ballet flats, the familiar comfort grounding me.

Just as I reach for the door, my phone vibrates.

An unknown number flashes on the screen.

I hesitate for only a second before answering.

"Hello?"

"Sophia."

That voice. Deep, rough, unmistakable. Even after all this time, it sends a shiver down my spine.

"Daniel," I say, keeping my tone neutral.

I don’t need introductions. His voice is etched into my memory, a relic from a time when his words wrapped around me like warmth. When I believed every syllable.

Before I realized it was all a lie.

I push the thought away.

"How are you?" I ask, forcing calm into my voice.

We haven’t seen each other since… everything. Only letters. Updates about the pregnancy. A detached, clinical exchange between two people who were once inseparable.

"I’m… managing," he says, then silence stretches between us.

It’s strange. There was a time when silence with him was comfortable. Now, it’s suffocating.

"Have you spoken to Victoria and William?" I ask, if only to fill the void.

Calling them mom and dad while talking to him feels wrong. They raised him. Loved him. And now, here we are—expecting a child together, tangled in a mess of betrayal and fractured family ties.

"No," he answers, clipped.

"Why not?" I press. "They’re desperate to hear from you, Daniel. They miss you."

I see it in their eyes, no matter how much they try to hide it. Anger still simmers beneath the surface, yes, but so does love. You don’t just stop loving someone you raised for over two decades.

"You know why," he murmurs, exhaustion lacing his words.

I grit my teeth. "Because of your pride? That’s bullshit, Daniel. They’re hurting. Haven’t you put them through enough?"

Silence.

I exhale sharply. "Just talk to them. Please. I’ve never asked you for anything else."

A heavy sigh. "You know I can’t say no to you, Sophia." A pause. "I’ll reach out."

"Thank you." I don’t let my relief seep into my voice, but I smile. Maybe this is a start.

"That’s not why I called."

"Okay…?"

"I heard about what happened. Are you—are you and the baby alright?" His voice softens, and for a fleeting moment, it’s the Daniel I remember.

The one who made me believe in us.

If only he hadn’t lied.

"We’re fine," I say. "Actually, I have an appointment today. I was just leaving."

A beat. Then—

"Is it strange that I already want to hold her?"

Her?

"You think it’s a girl?"

"Yeah," he admits, almost sheepish. "I’m convinced."

I laugh despite myself. "Well, Liam’s rooting for a girl too."

A quiet chuckle. "Guess I’m not alone. What about you? Boy or girl?"

I don’t hesitate. "It doesn’t matter. I already love them."

And it’s true. The shock of the pregnancy has faded. The anger, the betrayal—none of it changes the fact that this baby is mine.

Just like Liam is mine, no matter what Ethan did.

"I should go," I say. "Don’t want to be late. I’ll write to you after the appointment."

"Sophia—" He hesitates. "About Damien Slade. You don’t need to worry. He won’t touch you. I made sure of it."

Before I can ask what he means, the line goes dead.

I clutch my purse, my mind racing.

What did he do?

Did he threaten him? Bargain? Or something worse?

I shake my head and step outside, the questions lingering like shadows.