"Careful with that corner," Elara instructed, her voice ringing out in the cavernous space of what used to be her architectural studio. "That drafting table is vintage. The legs are prone to scuffing if you take the turn too sharply."

"You got it, Ms. Vance," Marcus, the foreman of the elite moving

"I just don't understand why she's acting like a child," Julian muttered, staring fiercely at his phone as the Maybach sped down the Long Island Expressway. "She hasn't answered a single text in two days."

Chloe rested her head against his shoulder, her hand lightly tracing the lapel of his tailore

Julian stared at the ultrasound photograph, the edges of the glossy paper trembling violently against his thumbs. The air in the penthouse had turned to lead, pressing into his lungs, suffocating him.

*Gestational Age: 12 Weeks.*

Twelve weeks. Three months. Elara was three months pregnant.

"No,