Chapter 286

Hannah

I sat alone in my room, my face buried in my knees as I sobbed endlessly. The silence of the house was deafening, broken only by my occasional hiccups and sniffles. Noah had been gone for hours, and with each passing minute, my anxiety intensified.

He was probably calling the police. I would likely give birth in a cell, my baby ripped from my arms moments after entering the world. The thought made me nauseous, a fresh wave washing over me.

My eyes darted to the window, where sunlight still streamed through the curtains—it hadn't been that long, although it felt like hours since I had sat there crying.

Huffing, I pushed myself to my feet and walked to the window, chewing my lip as I considered my options. Maybe I could tie the sheets together, make a rope… But no, the drop was too far; I would likely break something if I fell, and in my condition, that wasn't a risk I could take. I couldn't endanger my baby, not after everything I had done to protect it.

The walls seemed to close in as I stared out the window. The mansion's grounds were peaceful, the groundskeepers meandering through the gardens. They likely hadn't heard my cries for help. Or maybe they were ignoring me, knowing it was best not to cross their Alpha. Goddess, how had everything gone so wrong? I had only wanted to protect my child, to give it the best life I could. Now, I might never even get to hold it.

Just as I was considering more desperate measures to escape, I heard the front door open. My heart raced as footsteps approached; I pictured police officers flanking Noah. As I heard the lock slide open, I was already imagining the inside of my cell: cold, gray, lifeless.

But, to my relief, when the door opened, Noah was alone. He carried a bag of takeout food, the smell making my stomach growl despite my anxiety.

“Eat,” he said without preamble, setting the bag on the bed beside me. His voice was gruff, but when I looked into his eyes, an expression of concern surprised me.

I shook my head, turning away and folding my arms. “I’m not hungry.” The lie tasted bitter, but I couldn't bring myself to accept anything from him right now.

Noah’s jaw clenched, a muscle twitching in his cheek. “When did you last throw up?”

I hesitated, debating whether to answer truthfully. Finally, I admitted reluctantly, “This morning. It was… pretty bad.”

“Then you need to eat to replenish yourself,” he insisted, his voice softening slightly. “If you don’t, I’ll have to force-feed you. I don’t think either of us wants that.”

I glared at him, but the look in his eyes told me he was serious. With a huff, I grabbed the bag and pulled out a container. The smell of chicken and vegetables wafted up, making my mouth water despite myself.

Flipping the lid open, I made a point of staring directly into Noah’s eyes as I took an enormous bite, chewing aggressively.

Noah, for what it was worth, seemed pleased that I was eating, his posture relaxing slightly as he sat down in a nearby chair.

“Look,” he muttered, “I’m… sorry for locking you in here earlier. That was wrong. I shouldn’t have done it, and I don’t have an excuse for it.”

He did sound genuinely apologetic, but I scoffed, speaking around a mouthful of food. “Oh, so now you feel remorse for treating your wife like a prisoner? Is it because I’m actually going to be a real prisoner soon, once I have my last meal here? Perhaps you pity me now.”

Noah sighed and ran a hand through his hair. The gesture was genuine enough to give me pause.

“I’m not going to punish you, Hannah. And I won’t let you go to prison.”

I paused mid-chew, surprised by his words. Hope bloomed in my chest, but I quickly squashed it down. There had to be a catch. There was always a catch with him.

“But,” he continued, confirming my suspicions, “I’m also not going to divorce you.”

I nearly choked on my food. “What?” I spluttered, coughing.

“I want a real marriage for our child, not a split household,” Noah explained, his eyes intense as they bore into mine. “And I know deep down, you want that too. I’ve seen how you’ve been trying to work on yourself for the benefit of our child. I want the chance to do the same.”