Time didn’t stop the way people say it does. It slowed. Pushed against my ribs like I had been shoved underwater.

Across the crowded, glittering office space, Daniel’s voice cracked through the air, sharp as glass.

“Elena’s pregnant. It’s mine.”

It was almost funny, in a tragic kind of way, how quickly the warmth drained from the room. Conversations cut off mid-laugh. The clink of a dropped champagne glass somewhere near the catering table echoed like a gunshot. Dozens of faces turned toward me all at once, wide-eyed, greedy for a reaction.

I didn’t move. It was Nicholas I looked for first, not Daniel.

And I found him, standing near the far windows, his drink forgotten in his hand, shoulders squared so tightly his suit strained at the seams. His jaw was locked, lips pressed into a line so severe it made my chest ache just looking at him.

But he wasn’t looking at Daniel. His eyes were on me. Only me.

The silence dragged out longer than felt survivable. My skin prickled under the weight of all those stares, but my feet stayed glued to the polished floor. I tucked my hands behind my back to hide the shaking.

I should have said something. I should have corrected him, thrown the lie back in Daniel’s face, shattered it before it could grow legs.

But instead, I just stood there, letting the wildfire climb higher inside me.

The clicking of expensive heels snapped me out of it. I turned my head to see Daniel’s parents cutting through the gathering like a royal court descending from the throne.

Daniel’s mother reached me first, every inch of her posture steeped in cold calculation. Her smile was the kind that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“We weren’t expecting this news,” she said with a coolness so smooth it could have been mistaken for grace if I hadn’t known better. “Though I suppose we should be… relieved. At least it’s you, and not some social climber we’ll have to explain away to the board.”

Her voice was sharp, every word a little pinprick against my skin. She spoke like my pregnancy was a public relations solution, not a life.

Before I could answer, Daniel’s father joined her side, smoothing a hand over his already pristine jacket.

“We always had concerns, of course,” he said, giving a stiff nod as if he were offering congratulations for a promotion I didn’t ask for. “But it’s clear now you have… substantial value to this family.”

I stared at them both, feeling the last of the air in my chest wither and die. Their approval meant less than nothing now. Still, they were laying it at my feet as if assuming I’d be desperate enough to crawl back and accept it.

“I didn’t do this for your approval,” I said, my voice level, sharp enough to slice through the room.

His mother’s mouth twitched, a muscle in her jaw working.

“We know,” she said after a pause that stretched too long to feel sincere. “That’s why it matters.”

The polite facade cracked for a moment. Behind her words, I could hear the real meaning: you’re inconvenient now, but if you behave, you’ll still be useful. Manageable.

Sabrina lingered nearby, arms crossed, her expression openly skeptical. She didn’t bother with fake smiles. Her message was clear enough: prove it.

And Nicholas—he still hadn’t looked away from me. His eyes pinned me to the floor harder than the weight of Daniel’s lie ever could. His stare wasn’t cruel or questioning. It was waiting. Watching. Like he already knew there was a truth here bigger than anything spoken aloud tonight.

For a moment, I thought about walking across the room. Telling him everything. Ripping off the armor I’d built piece by piece over the past weeks.

But then Carly’s voice cut through the hum of whispered speculation like a blade.

“I have something to say.”

Every conversation dropped into silence. Heads snapped around, and even Daniel shifted uneasily, his body tensing beside his mother’s stiff frame.

I turned just in time to see Carly standing near the center of the party, one hand clenched at her side, her face pale under the halo of fairy lights.

Daniel’s brows drew together sharply. “Carly, don’t,” he muttered under his breath, but she either didn’t hear or didn’t care.

The whole room leaned in without moving, the anticipation a living thing, breathing down our necks.

She swallowed visibly, her voice trembling but determined as she said it again, louder this time. “I have something to say.”