Ynda was unfazed. She pulled out her phone and acted like she was dialing the police.


    Henry’s eyes went wide with panic. “You bitch! What the hell are you doing?” he shouted.


    Gamblers like him were terrified of cops. He’d onlye after Megan because he owed a mountain of debt.


    He shoved past the guards and locked eyes with Ynda, his gaze wild and menacing. “Just you wait,” he snarled. “You’ll regret this.” Then he spun and stormed off.


    Ynda pressed her lips together and tucked her phone away. She hadn’t called the police. When it came to studio, she preferred to handle things quietly.


    She took a deep breath and turned to the doctor. “How is Megan?”


    “Out of the woods. She just needs rest–lots of it,” the doctor replied.


    Ynda nodded. Just then, the ER doors slid open, and Megan was wheeled out toward a room downstairs.


    Ynda followed, sitting by the bed.


    Ten long minutester, Ian stepped in and held out a can of bruise spray.


    Ynda paused for a moment and then took it. “Thanks. Listen, with Megan out, I’ll go with you to sign the contract tomorrow morning. After that, you’ll head to set. You’re a great actor -I’ll find more roles for you.”


    “Got it,” Ian whispered, his gaze sticking to her. She looked fragile, like she might break, but her eyes were bright, sharp with resolve.


    Since the doctor said Megan wouldn’t rouse until morning, Ynda stood up and said to Ian, “Let’s head back. Workes first.”


    Just as they stepped outside the hospital, Ynda clutched her stomach and doubled over, fighting the urge to puke. <fne75a> This content belongs to find?novel</fne75a>


    Ian hesitated for a moment. “I’ll drive you home.”


    Sweat beaded on Ynda’s forehead. She managed a weak smile. “No, it’s fine. Go rest when you get back. Wait-”


    Before she could finish, a gust of wind whipped by.


    “Bitch, you


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    think you can call the cops on me?” Henry roared, swinging a stick at Ynda.


    Ynda reached out to block, but suddenly a shadow fell over her.


    Ian caught the stick mid–swing and kicked Henry hard, sending him sprawling.


    Henry clutched his stomach and spit up blood, his face pale. “You two will regret this!” he snarled, staggering to his feet. This time, he really ran away.


    Ynda darted over, grabbing Ian’s hand. “You okay? Did he hurt you?”


    She checked his hand carefully, saw no marks, and let out a relieved sigh. “Don’t step in front of me like that again.”


    Ian’s fingers twitched. He looked away.


    Ynda’s gaze lingered on his wrist–firm, steady, a hint of the strength under his good looks. She pulled her hand back. “Studio at nine tomorrow. See you then.”


    With that, she gged a cab and climbed in, leaning back once the door shut. Her face was pale, nausea coiling in her stomach, and her ankle throbbed like crazy.


    The cab stopped at Moonbay Estate. As she stepped out, a sick feeling settled over her. Still, she dragged herself forward and unlocked the door with her fingerprint.


    The hall lights were on. Charles sat on the couch, the air so quiet it felt heavy.


    Ynda started to kick off her shoes in the entryway. As she bent down, a sharp pain knifed through her stomach. She bolted to the bathroom, retching into the sink–those drinks earlier were wrecking her.


    When she walked back to the living room, Charles was still on the couch.


    She knew he was angry. The madder he got, the quieter he got. She stayed where she was, waiting for him to speak.


    Charles slowly set his papers down. “Tough week?” he asked. “Is that why you’re so snappy?”


    Ynda froze, her eyes burning.


    ‘How ridiculous, she thought. ‘When I was hanging on his every word, he never gave me a second thought. Now that I’ve let go and pulled back, suddenly he cares. Guess guys only want women who beg and whine, huh?”


    Her face was still pale. She grabbed the banister and started up the stairs.


    Charles watched her retreating back and finally said, “Ynda, you can’t get pregnant.”


    Ynda froze, but her voice stayed calm. “I already told you–I’m not pregnant.”


    “But before, you wanted kids.”


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    Ynda’s knuckles went white on the stair rail, the cold metal seeping into her skin like a knife. to the heart.


    “Charles, I know who you’re waiting for,” she smiled icily. “I was stupid to think that after all these years, you might love me. But I get it now–no more fantasies.”


    Charles stared at her rigid back, a faint sigh escaping. “How many times have you said that, Ynda? Let’s not do this again.”


    He walked over, sliding an arm around her waist. Only then did he notice that her face glistened with sweat–she was clearly feeling terrible.


    He gently wiped the sweat from the tip of her nose with his fingertips and spoke softly, “The baby can’t stay. I’ll take you to the clinic tomorrow. I’ll make it right. Just be good.”


    Ynda’sshes fluttered wildly. She med herself for loving Charles too much–too openly –so no one believed she’d ever walk away. Besides, she was from the Grant family. No Grant woman got divorced; that was shameful.


    She quit fighting, realizing nothing she said would ever reach Charles.


    Catching her silence, Charles gave a subtle smile and gently pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. The touch was tender, yet it felt oddly cutting.


    “Quit stirring up trouble. Bring Mom that emerald bracelet tomorrow and apologize,” he said softly. “Ynda–you’re wife material. Don’t make me sorry I picked you.”


    Ynda shut her eyes slowly. His tone was sweet, but the words cut like des. Without saying anything, she limped the rest of the way up the stairs.


    Charles finally noticed her hurt leg. But he didn’t say a word–he never bothered with that


    stuff.


    Ynda went to the master bedroom and forced herself to shower. Only when she sat on the bed did she see how swollen her ankle was.


    She grabbed the spray Jan had bought her and spritzed herself. Then she called a maid, asking her to move all her clothes to the guest bedroom down the hall.


    The maid looked uneasy. “Mrs. Sinir, I’m not sure if-”


    Ynda cut her off, her voice steady. “Just do it.”


    :


    :


    The maid had no choice but to start moving things.


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    Charles came upstairs, took in the scene, and let out a softugh. He stepped to Ynda, brushing her cheek with the back of his fingers. “You naughty brat.”


    Ynda’s expression shifted. Suddenly, a wave of helplessness swept over her.


    Just then, Charles’s phone rang–it was Sophie. He didn’t answer. Ynda’s little rebellion tonight caught him off guard, and he found it kind of funny.


    He smiled, “Sweetheart, you’ve had your fun. Don’t wear me out over house drama. You want separate beds? Aren’t you afraid I’ll find someone else?”


    Ynda turned her head away. Seeing that thest of her things was carried out, she headed for the end of the hall. “Do whatever you want,” she said.


    Charles stood at the master bedroom doorway, chuckling softly. “Don’te begging meter.”


    That was always his tone–teasing, like nothing matters. Everyone knew how cold he could be, and he’d had plenty of other women.


    ‘How rare. A guy like Charles actually falling in love and waiting for a woman for two whole years, Ynda thought bitterly.