THE BILLIONAIRE'S DARK CLAIM

(Five Years Earlier) Nina's Pov “I didn’t plan for it to be this dramatic,” Ethan said, his voice low as he adjusted the small box in his hand. I remember laughing before I even fully processed what was happening, mostly because I thought he was joking. Ethan Wolfe didn’t do surprises. He didn’t do soft moments either, not the kind that made your chest feel tight in a way you couldn’t immediately explain. We were standing in a quiet part of the rooftop restaurant he had reserved for my birthday. The city lights stretched endlessly behind him, glowing like something that belonged in a different life entirely. My dress felt too simple for the place, too ordinary for the way he was looking at me. “I thought we were just having dinner,” I said carefully, my heart already reacting before my mind caught up. Ethan didn’t answer immediately. He just took a step closer, like the space between us suddenly mattered more than anything else in the world. “We are,” he said softly. “I just added something important.” That was when I noticed his expression had changed. He wasn't nervous and he was not unsure. Ethan didn’t look unsure about anything. But there was something in his eyes that felt heavier than usual, like he had already made peace with a decision before I even heard it. He opened the box. I remember the ring more than I remember breathing in that moment. It wasn’t flashy. It didn’t need to be. It looked like something chosen with intention, not performance. My hands went slightly cold. “Ethan…” I started, but my voice didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t wait for me to find the words. “I want you to marry me, Nina,” he said, like it was the simplest truth he had ever spoken. “Not someday. Not when things are easier. I mean now.” He said calmly. I stood there, staring at him, trying to understand how something so big could be said so calmly. “Are you serious?” I asked quietly. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips. “I don’t joke about you,” he replied. My chest tightened in a way I didn’t know how to name. Because this wasn’t just a proposal. It felt like a decision that had already been made long before I was asked. And I didn’t know whether that was comforting or terrifying. Before I could answer properly, Ethan suddenly paused. He just… stopped. His hand that was holding the box lowered slightly. At first, I thought he was waiting for my reaction. But then I saw it. The subtle change in his breathing. The way his jaw tightened as if something inside him had shifted without warning. “Ethan?” I stepped closer immediately. “What’s wrong?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he placed a hand briefly against the table, like he needed support he hadn’t needed a second ago. “I’m fine,” he said, but it didn’t sound fine. That was when everything happened too fast. His grip loosened. The ring box slipped slightly from his fingers. And then he collapsed. Just like that. No warning I understood. No explanation I could process. “Ethan!” My voice broke instantly as I rushed toward him, dropping to my knees beside him as people around us suddenly reacted in confusion. His name kept coming out of my mouth like it could pull him back. Someone called for help. Someone else shouted something I couldn’t focus on. All I could see was him , hanging there and not moving . And for the first time in my life, I understood what helplessness actually meant. The hospital lights were too bright for how dark everything inside me felt. I sat in the waiting area with shaking hands, my dress now wrinkled, my birthday completely forgotten. Minutes felt like hours. Every sound made my body react like something worse was about to happen. When the doctor finally came out, I stood up so fast my chair almost fell. “He has a congenital condition,” the doctor explained carefully. “It’s been with him since birth. It affects his heart under stress.” My throat tightened. “Is he going to be okay?” I asked immediately. The doctor hesitated just long enough for my stomach to drop. “We stabilized him,” he said. “But he needs long-term care. Immediate monitoring. And support from his family.” Family!!! That word didn’t feel simple anymore. I walked out of the room in a daze, searching for the one person I knew could answer the things the doctors wouldn’t say clearly. Richard Wolfe. I found him in a private section of the hospital corridor, standing like he owned even the air people were breathing around him. He was so calm as though the storm that wanted to befall me is none of his business. “Why are you here and not in proper care?” I asked immediately, my voice shaking despite my effort to keep it steady. He looked at me slowly, like I was something inconvenient that had interrupted his silence. “Because he chose this path of being with you,” He said simply. My heart dropped. “What does that even mean?” I asked, stepping closer. “But he is your son.” Richard’s expression didn’t change. “That boy gave up everything I built for him,” he said coldly. “Inheritance. Position. Legacy. All because of you.” My chest tightened painfully. “That’s not true,” I said quickly. “He didn’t….” “He did,” Richard cut in. “And I allowed it because I don’t negotiate with emotional weakness.” My hands started trembling. “So you’re just going to let him die?” I asked, barely recognizing my own voice. That finally made him look at me properly. “If he dies,” he said calmly, “it will not be because I refused to help him. It will be because he chose you over survival.” Something inside me snapped at that. I stepped closer without thinking. “You’re his father,” I said, voice breaking now. “How can you say that about your own child?” For a moment, something almost unreadable passed through his expression. Then it was gone. And what replaced it was colder. “I don’t reward decisions that weaken this family,” he said, and moreover I have other children. Silence followed. Then he added something that made my entire body go still. “You are the reason he is in that bed,” he said. “So you will decide what happens next.” My breath stopped. “What are you talking about?” I whispered. Richard’s voice stayed calm. “You will leave him,” he said. “Or you will stay and watch him die slowly while refusing to accept responsibility for what you did to him.” My knees nearly gave way. For a moment, I couldn’t speak and I Couldn’t breathe properly. Because I understood what he was doing. This wasn’t a warning. It was a choice designed to break me. And then he said it again, softer this time, like it was already decided. “Choose, wisely Nina.” And I realized in that moment that nothing about falling in love with Ethan Wolfe had ever been simple. And nothing about keeping him alive would be either.