True Intentions
1322 Words
CHAPTER 04
Anastasia Shinoara’s POV
It had been four days.
Four days since I had walked into that clinic with a heartbeat inside me and walked out without it.
I hadn’t told anyone.
I couldn't—i had no one to tell.
No one knew—no one but her.
And she acted like it had never happened.
And here I was, dressing up as if nothing were wrong.
Like I hadn’t just lost a part of myself.
Like I hadn’t cried in the shower and scrubbed my skin until it turned red and raw.
Like I didn’t wake up in the middle of the night clutching my stomach, whispering, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
I felt like a murderer.
A wicked, selfish girl who had let fear win.
But what choice did I have? I couldn’t bring a child into this mess.
Not with Anthony's betrayal.
Not with Rowan waiting.
Not with my mother watching me like a hawk, waiting for me to crack.
Not with the threat of a miserable life waiting for me.
I hadn’t spoken to Catherine since the night she stormed out, but I knew she was still angry.
Who wouldn't be?
But it wasn't my fault or my doing.
This morning, she tried to bring it up as I was being prepared.
“She told me she was pregnant,” Catherine said, her arms folded and her voice sharp.
“She lied,” my mother replied without missing a beat.
“She was trying to sabotage the engagement. You know how dramatic Asia can be.”
How could one be so perfect at lying?
Catherine’s eyes flicked up to me.
She knew I wasn’t lying, but she also knew better than to argue with our mother.
So she said nothing.
She just turned and walked away.
Poor girl.
And now, here I was.
In the backseat of a black car, wearing a navy-blue dress that hugged my body as if it wanted to draw out the little life it had left.
My hair was pinned up.
My lips were painted red.
I looked different.
I felt strange.
My heart was a hollow drum in my chest.
I was on my way to meet Rowan DeVille for our official engagement signing.
A "date," they called it.
A formality.
A chance to “bond.”
I almost laughed when my mother said that.
Bond? With Rowan?
The man who didn’t blink when he spoke?
The man who chose me like he was picking out a new suit?
I wanted to run.
I could have opened the door, thrown myself out of the car, and disappeared.
But where would I have gone?
What would I have done?
I had already given up my baby; I couldn’t let that be for nothing.
I wouldn’t let it be for nothing.
So I sat still and I waited.
The restaurant was one of those fancy rooftop places with glass walls and a view that screamed money.
He was already there when I arrived. Of course he was.
He was wearing a black suit, no tie, his sleeves rolled up just enough to show the veins on his forearms.
He didn’t stand when I approached.
He just looked at me with those unreadable eyes and said, “You’re late.”
I sat down, ignoring the chair he had pulled out for me. “I didn’t want to come,” I said, pushing aside the damned ‘be polite’ lessons I had gotten that morning.
“Noted,” he said, sipping his wine.
A lawyer sat beside him with a briefcase open, papers spread out like a crime scene.
“Shall we begin?” the lawyer asked, trying to sound cheerful.
“No,” I said.
Rowan raised an eyebrow. “You have something to say?”
“Yeah,” I snapped. “I think this is insane.”
“Then don’t sign,” he said coolly.
“Walk away. I won’t stop you.”
I blinked. “What?”
“You heard me. Leave. Run. Like I care?”
I just stared at him.
“Why did you choose me?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Because I could.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have.”
I grit my teeth. “You’re a jerk.”
“And you’re a coward,” he replied, leaning back. “You ran from the ballroom. Nothing should hold you from running from this too.”
I stood, fists clenched. “You don’t know me.”
“I know enough.”
The lawyer cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should—”
“Shut up,” we both snapped at the same time.
He flinches, muttering some words to himself.
I sat back down, breathing hard.
Rowan watched me, his gaze sharp.
“You hate me,” he said. “Fine. But sign the damn papers. Let’s get this over with.”
I grabbed the pen.
My hand trembled.
I thought of the baby.
Of the life I had ended.
Of the life I was about to start. I signed.
He took the pen from me and signed too.
It was done; it was over.
Rowan stood, adjusted his cuffs like he was about to fire someone, and tossed a tiny black box onto the table.
“What’s this?” I asked, squinting at it as if it might explode.
“Your engagement ring,” he said.
“Oh, you got me one. How romantic.”
“It’s not for you. It’s for the press.”
“Still romantic,” I said, popping the box open. “Wow. A diamond. What a romantic boy you are.”
I could tell my words were annoying the hell out of him, but I didn't care.
That was what he got for picking me.
“Just put it on.”
I held it up like it was a cursed object. “You put it on me.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Why? Did you sprain a finger on the way here?”
“And where have you seen a lady putting on her ring herself?”
“In other words, you want me to propose?” He raised an eyebrow, chuckling as if I were a comedian.
“If that's what you call it.”
“I'd rather eat a rat,” he said.
“Then this is going into my bag. It will look good on the shelf in my room,” I said.
Rowan stared at me as if he could use his eyes to shoot me.
Finally, he sighed as if I’d asked him to donate a kidney.
He stood, snatched the ring, and grabbed my hand.
“Don’t make this weird,” he muttered.
“Too late,” I said, smirking.
He shoved the ring onto my finger like he was trying to win a wrestling match with it. “There. Happy?”
I looked at the ring. Then at him.
Then I yanked it off and flicked it at his chest. He caught it.
“Oops,” I said.
He rolled his eyes and tossed it back. “Try again. With less drama.”
“Less drama?” I gasped. “You’re the one who just proposed like a tax auditor. Here is how to wear a ring like a person with a working brain.” I put the ring on my finger myself.
“There. I’m officially engaged to a human iceberg.”
Rowan smirked. “And you’re officially my problem.”
I flipped my hair. “You’ve been mine since the moment you opened your mouth.”
I took my bag and rushed out, my ring flashing after me like a warning sign.
So this was the man they wanted me to marry?
God help me!
If only I had known what was waiting for me outside, then I would have stayed back.
- Writer
