contract Bonds

Chapter 12

JADEN

The drive back from the dinner with Angela was a blur of headlights and half-formed thoughts. I replayed every second of it—her smile, the way she lead the conversation, that beautiful hazel eyes. And how can i forget; the way she scrunched her nose at the wine, her hurried rush to the bathroom, the look in her eyes when she returned, slightly pale and clearly rattled. Something was wrong, and she wasn’t saying it.

The elevator to my penthouse slid open, and I stepped inside, the tension still thrumming beneath my skin. I jabbed the button for my floor and leaned against the mirrored wall, running a hand through my hair. Angela Parker was a mystery I couldn’t get out of my head.

I thought back to her reaction when I offered her the mashed potatoes. She enjoyed it until, she didn't. It wasn’t just discomfort—it was panic. And when she returned, there was a fragility in her smile that hadn’t been there before. For someone so fiercely independent, it was uncharacteristic.

The elevator chimed, and I stepped out into the hallway, my footsteps echoing against the polished marble. Inside, I tossed my keys onto the counter and poured myself a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the light as I swirled it absently.

What aren’t you telling me, Angela?

I pulled out my phone, dialing the number I knew by heart. Ethan picked up on the second ring. “Wilder residence. The party never stops.”

I snorted. “You really need to work on your greetings.”

“You really need to work on calling at normal hours,” he shot back. “What’s up?”

I hesitated. “I need you to find out more about Angela Parker.”

There was a pause. “Parker? That's her name? The one you’ve been obsessing over since the bar incident?”

“Yes, that one.”

“Okay…” I could hear the click of keys in the background. “What are we looking for? Criminal record? Secret husband? Billionaire by day, jewel thief by night?”

“Medical records,” I said bluntly. “Or anything recent that might indicate… I don’t know, health issues?”

There was a longer pause this time. “Health issues? You want me to look into her medical history? You know that’s borderline creepy, right?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I just need to know if she’s alright. Something happened during dinner, and she wouldn’t tell me.”

Ethan whistled low. “Alright, Captain Overprotective. I’ll dig around, see what I can find. Give me a day or two.”

“Thanks,” I murmured before hanging up.

I tossed the phone onto the couch and took a long sip of the whiskey, letting the burn settle the restlessness in my chest. Angela was fine. She had to be fine. But the nagging feeling wouldn’t leave.

And I wasn’t the kind of man to let things go.

I was going to get to the bottom of it, one way or another.

ANGELA

I wake up the next morning with Jaden still occupying every inch of my mind. His touch, his voice, the way he watched me like I was the only person in the room. My hands tighten around my coffee mug as I sit at the small breakfast nook in my apartment, replaying every detail of our dinner. Despite the chaos, the fear, the nausea—I wanted more. I’m not foolish enough to deny it.

But wanting more is dangerous.

I sip my coffee and stare out the window, the city bustling beneath me, oblivious to the storm brewing in my life. “Enough,” I whisper to myself, setting the mug down. It’s time to stop hiding. If there’s one thing Jaden Davenport taught me, it’s that running from the truth only makes it harder when it finally catches up to you.

I grab my phone and text Zara, Janet, and Emma, setting up a late lunch for the four of us. I’m done hiding secrets. It’s time to pull up my big girl panties and face the truth head-on.

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Later, I’m in my office at FireStitch, going over concepts for the new fashion line with my assistant, Mike. He’s flipping through fabric samples and mood boards, chattering excitedly about the seasonal trends. I try to stay focused, nodding at the right moments, but my mind is miles away.

“Angela?” Mike’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “Are you even listening?”

I blink, shaking off the haze. “Of course, I am. That emerald silk—perfect for the evening collection.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You were staring off into space for the last ten minutes.”

I smile tightly. “Just... a lot on my mind.”

He nods sympathetically and turns back to the samples. “Well, you know I’ve got you. Whatever you need.”

I watch him move around the office, efficient and focused. Mike has been with me since the early days of FireStitch—loyal, dependable, and never one to pry. If anyone deserved to know what was going on, it was him. But that revelation would come later.

Today was reserved for my girls.

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The late afternoon sun is casting a warm glow over the rooftop restaurant where I meet Zara, Janet, and Emma. They’re already seated, glasses of rosé in hand, laughing about something I’m sure is inappropriate.

“There she is!” Emma waves me over, and I slide into the empty seat between her and Zara.

“You look... pensive,” Zara notes, sipping her drink. “What’s going on?”

I take a deep breath, hands tightening around the stem of my wine glass. “I have something to tell you guys.”

Three sets of eyes turn to me, expectant and a little wary.

“Remember that night at the bar?” I start, my voice shaking just a little. “The guy I left with?”

Janet’s eyes widen. “You’re finally going to spill?”

I nod. “His name is Jaden Davenport.”

There’s a pause. Then Zara’s glass nearly slips from her hand. “The Jaden Davenport? As in CraveMore?”

“Yes.”

Emma whistles low. “Girl, you’ve been holding out on us.”

I laugh, a shaky, nervous sound. “There’s more.” I glance around, suddenly conscious of the people around us, but I press on. “I’m... I’m pregnant.”

The silence is deafening. Zara’s mouth is open, Janet is blinking rapidly, and Emma has a hand over her heart as if I just confessed to murder.

“And it’s his,” I add, just in case there was any doubt.

“Oh my God,” Zara breathes.

“I don’t even know what to say,” Emma whispers. “Angela, that’s huge.”

“Are you keeping it?” Janet asks gently.

I nod. “Yes. I’ve thought about it, and I want to keep it.”

There’s a collective exhale, a softening of expressions. Zara reaches out and squeezes my hand. “We’ve got you, okay? Whatever you need.”

My eyes well up, and I nod. “I know.”

For the first time in weeks, I feel lighter. Sharing the truth, facing it head-on, somehow makes it less terrifying. I’m not alone. I’m not hiding anymore.

But the real storm is yet to come.

And I’m finally ready to face it.