-Hazel-
I woke up as my body pulled me up before the sun would. I turned around to check the time, it's 5: 54.
I was used to my home alarm don this for me. But I couldn't risk putting a timer on my phone to wake me this morning. It will give up my plans so..yeah I couldn't.
I'm up aren't I? And that's all that is important. My mouth feels so dry and my head aches so badly, the pregnancy is beginning to tell on me now huh. I rubbed my eyes as dragged my body out of the bed slowly. I needed to be quiet if I want to achieve anything this morning.
I moved towards the door, praying that no one is up. I quietly opened the food and glanced at my left and right. First I needed to head downstairs.
I took my fourth step when my stomach gurgled in a very slow roll. Wincing I clutched my stomach, the naused was hitting more these mornings. Morning sickness, they called it, though this felt more like all-day punishment. I hadn't even eaten anything yet. I held the the glass rail to take a breath. I needed to move quickly.
I wish I wore something warmer. I rub my arms and kept close to the wall. I tiptoed towards the dinning centre and there was no guard. I was Confused on how to go outside. The building is too big and full of rooms. I went closer to one of the glass wall, taking a peek outside. This place was designed to trap someone without needing bars. The walls themselves were the warning.
Everything was smooth and clean. Every surface was expensive and cold. Marble floors, art-lined walls, and cameras tucked into corners away from human eyes.
I paused beside a long console table and scanned the ceiling. There—tiny red blink in the upper right corner. Camera. I counted three more by the time I reached the next corridor. One above the entrance to the kitchen. Another above a tall mirror. And one more towards the end of the hall. I noticed the door was slightly open.
My fingers grazed the doorknob, but I didn't push it open. Instead, I made mental notes of the layout.
Stairwell to the right. Patio doors near the rear. No guards, but definitely locked. That archway to the west wing—possibly a service exit.
All of a sudden my head is spinning fast. It's the nausea again! I cornered and leaned against the wall, pressing my hands to my lips. I was already sweating. I swallowed down the worst of it, breathing slowly through my nose.
God.This baby wasn't wasting time.
Shit! I heard footsteps and froze.
A maid turned the corner with a laundry basket clutched to her chest. She stopped short when she saw me, blinking like she'd seen a ghost. "Ma'am?"
I adjusted quickly and almost lost my stand. "I—I just needed some air."
Her gaze dropped to my bare feet, then looked towards the hallway behind me. "This floor can get slippery, miss. Would you like me to get someone?"
"No," I said too fast. Then softened it. "Nahh, I'm good. Just couldn't sleep."
She hesitated, then dipped her head. "I'll bring ginger tea to your room. It helps with… the sickness."
I swallowed. "Thank you."
I returned back the way I came, holding myself together until the hallway curved and I was out of sight. Phew! "That was close" I said exhaling.
I shut the door quietly behind me. The walls didn't feel quite so luxurious now. They felt empty and lonely. I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled my knees up, wrapped my hands around them.
Why did this place feel like a hotel you never checked out of?
I needed answers. Something to distract me from all this. I grabbed my phone and opened the browser. I didn't know what I was expecting—maybe some huge headline. A photo. A blog post with people dissecting my clothes and the way I looked like a deer in headlights next to a billionaire with a temper. Something to tell me that the world still knew I existed.
But there was nothing.Not one article. Not a whisper.
I scrolled through gossip blogs, forums, niche, TikTok, instagram,Twitter threads. Nothing at all.
The scandal was gone.Scrubbed and deleted like it never happened.
I frowned.
There'd been dozens of headlines just days ago.My face had been everywhere. Now it was just… wiped.
I stared at the phone screen.He paid them off.Of course he did.
He probably bought out every blog, threatened lawsuits, dangled NDAs and hush money over every editor's head. And they'd listened. They always listened to men like him.
Especially men with names like his.
I let the phone drop beside me and sat up. My stomach flipped again, but this time it wasn't just the nausea. It was the burn of being erased. Like I was just a bad PR moment he'd handled.
Like I didn't matter.
I got up and paced the room. I went into the walk in the closet, opened it, and stared at the rows of clothes. Not mine. But these looked So expensive, the colors looked like they were chosen by an assistant. Neutrals and creams, soft blues, everything bold.. Why stock the place when you didn't even have a girlfriend. Does he?
Hold up. How come I've never thought of that. Hmm
I must've sat there for an hour or more, looking and observing the closet. Then the knock came.
"Miss Hazel, breakfast is ready. Dining room."
I stood slowly. "Okay. I'm coming."
Downstairs, the house was too big for one voice, but I could feel his absence immediately.
Ace wasn't at the table.
There was no plate set for him. I sat and tried to eat, but nothing tasted good in my mouth. The toast tasted too dry and the omelette wasn't made properly. Maybe it is, it's my pregnancy hormones acting I guess. I pushed food around more than I swallowed it. If I continue I'll end up vomiting.
I went back to the room feeling like I had been doing some hard labor. The ache in my head was back now. I climbed up the bed and I curled up sideways on the bed and stared at the ceiling, mind running circles.
I was so tired. Not just pregnancy tired—but bone tired. So I closed my eyes and let the silence take me.