Purchased Vows

Chapter 10: The Care

The day of the meeting with Marcus's father, I woke up sick.

Not morning sickness—though that was still happening—but real, gut-wrenching anxiety. My hands shook as I got dressed. My stomach churned. My heart raced.

I was going to face him. The man who controlled everything. The man who had the power to destroy me.

I was terrified.

But I wasn't going to back down. Not anymore.

I was in the kitchen, trying to force down some toast, when Marcus appeared. He was dressed for work, his suit perfect, his expression closed off. But there was something in his eyes—worry, maybe. Or concern.

"You're going," he said, his voice flat. It wasn't a question.

"Yes." I set down my toast, my appetite gone. "I have to."

"You don't have to. You can cancel. You can refuse to meet with him."

"I could. But I won't. Because I'm done hiding. I'm done being afraid."

He was quiet for a long moment, just staring at me, and I saw something in his expression—respect, maybe. Or something else.

"Be careful," he said finally, his voice soft. "My father... he's not like my mother. He's worse. He's ruthless. And he won't hesitate to hurt you if he thinks it serves his purpose."

"I know." My voice was steady despite my racing heart. "But I'm not going to let him intimidate me. Not anymore."

He moved closer, and for a moment, I thought he might touch me. Might offer some comfort. But he didn't. Just stood there, his hands clenched at his sides.

"If you need anything," he said, his voice low. "If he tries anything, if you feel unsafe, call me. I'll come. I'll help you."

The words surprised me. "You'd do that? You'd come help me?"

"Of course." His voice was sharp, almost defensive. "You're carrying my child. I have a responsibility to protect you. Both of you."

It wasn't what I wanted to hear. I wanted him to say he cared about me. That he wanted to protect me because of me, not because of the baby. But it was something. It was a promise.

"Thank you," I said, my voice soft.

"Don't thank me. Just... be careful. And call me if you need anything."

He left, and I stood there, my heart racing, my hands shaking. But I wasn't going to back down. Not now. Not ever.

The meeting was at three o'clock, at Sterling Industries headquarters. A massive building in the heart of the city, all glass and steel and power.

I walked in, my head held high, my hands steady despite my racing heart. The receptionist directed me to the top floor, to his private office, and I rode the elevator up, my stomach churning.

When the doors opened, I stepped into a space that screamed money and power. Marble floors. Expensive art. Everything perfect, everything controlled.

Just like the man who owned it.

"Ms. Chen." His voice came from behind me, and I turned to see him standing there, tall and imposing, his expression cold. "Thank you for coming."

"Mr. Sterling." I kept my voice steady. "You asked to meet. Here I am."

"Indeed." He gestured to a chair. "Sit. We have much to discuss."

I sat, and he moved to his desk, settling into his chair like a king on a throne. For a long moment, we just stared at each other, a battle of wills.

"You're pregnant," he said finally, his voice flat. "With my son's child."

"I am."

"And you plan to keep it."

"I do."

"Even though my son doesn't want it. Even though he's made it clear that this is a... complication he doesn't need."

"I'm keeping it. That's not negotiable."

His expression hardened. "Everything is negotiable, Ms. Chen. Everything has a price. And I'm willing to pay a very high price to make this problem go away."

"I'm not a problem. And this baby isn't a problem. And I'm not for sale."

"Aren't you?" His eyes narrowed. "Because from where I'm sitting, you've already sold yourself. You married my son for money. You signed a contract. You're a transaction. So don't pretend you're above being bought."

The words hit like a slap, but I didn't flinch. "I made a choice. I signed a contract. But that doesn't mean I'm for sale. And it doesn't mean I'm going to let you control me."

"You think you have a choice?" He leaned forward, his expression cold. "You think you can stand against me? Against this family? You're nothing. You're nobody. And I can destroy you with a single phone call."

"Then do it." My voice was steady, despite my racing heart. "But know this: if you try to hurt me, if you try to take my child, I'll fight you. And I'll win. Because I have the law on my side. And I have nothing left to lose."

He stared at me for a long moment, and I saw something in his expression—respect, maybe. Or surprise.

"You're braver than I thought," he said finally, his voice soft. "Or more foolish."

"Maybe both." I stood, my legs shaking, but my head held high. "But I'm not going to be intimidated. I'm not going to be bullied. And I'm not going to give up my child. Not for you. Not for anyone."

I turned to leave, but his voice stopped me.

"Ms. Chen."

I stopped, but didn't turn around.

"My son... he's not like me. He's not ruthless. He's not cold. And despite what he might say, despite how he might act, he cares. About you. About the baby. And if you hurt him, if you break him, I will destroy you. Do you understand?"

I turned to face him, my heart racing. "I would never hurt him. I would never—"

"Then prove it. Leave. Take the money. Take the child. And disappear. Don't make him choose between you and his family. Because he'll choose his family. And it will destroy him."

The words hit harder than I expected, and I felt my throat tighten. Because I knew he was right. I knew that if Marcus had to choose, he'd choose his family. And it would break him.

But it would break me too.

"I'll think about it," I said, my voice small.

"Good." He stood, dismissing me. "Because the longer you stay, the more complicated this becomes. And the more complicated it becomes, the more people get hurt."

I left his office, my legs shaking, my heart racing. I made it to the elevator before I collapsed against the wall, my breath coming in short gasps.

He was right. He was absolutely right.

The longer I stayed, the more complicated this became. And the more complicated it became, the more people got hurt.

Including Marcus.

When I got home, Marcus was there. Waiting. His expression worried, his movements tense.

"Are you okay?" he asked, moving closer. "Did he hurt you? Did he threaten you?"

"I'm fine." My voice was shaky. "He just... talked. Tried to intimidate me. But I'm okay."

He stared at me for a long moment, and I saw something in his eyes—relief, maybe. Or something else.

"Good." He moved closer, and for a moment, I thought he might touch me. Might offer comfort. But he didn't. Just stood there, his hands clenched. "If he tries anything else, if he threatens you again, tell me. I'll handle it."

"You don't have to—"

"I know I don't have to." His voice was sharp, almost angry. "But I will. Because you're... you're my responsibility. Both of you."

It wasn't what I wanted to hear. But it was something. It was a promise. A commitment.

"Thank you," I said, my voice soft.

"Don't thank me." He turned away, his movements sharp. "Just... be careful. And if you need anything, ask. I'll help you."

He left, and I stood there, my heart breaking. Because I knew that he cared. I could see it in his eyes, in his actions, in the way he worried about me.

But he wouldn't admit it. He wouldn't let himself feel it.

And that was the problem.

Because I was falling for him. Really falling. And I knew that when this was over, when I left, it would destroy me.

But it would destroy him too.

And there was nothing either of us could do about it.