Jane POV
“I’m here to see Carter.”
The words came out shaky but clear as I stood in the marble lobby of Empire, my palms sweating.
The woman behind the front desk gave me a look—somewhere between judgment and amusement—then tapped something into her tablet.
“Mr. King isn’t in yet,” she said, without bothering to hide her boredom. “He’s not expected for another hour.”
I swallowed hard. “Can I wait?”
Before she could answer, a voice cut through the air like glass.
“She won’t be waiting here.”
I turned around and my heart dropped.
Rosie King.
Carter’s older sister.
Even more terrifying in person than in the glossy magazine spreads.
I recognized her instantly—every inch of her screamed money, power, and don’t-mess-with-me energy. She was taller than I expected, with long jet-black hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, a face made for runways, and cheekbones sharp enough to kill. Her eyes were cold and calculating, and her mouth twisted into a half-smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
Of course I knew who she was.
Everyone knew Rosie King.
Model. Socialite. CEO of some fashion line. Famous for her beauty, her business moves, and her very public temper.
Tabloids had called her “the Queen behind the King Empire.”
Now she was standing in front of me—heels clicking on marble, designer trench coat wrapped around her like armor.
And she was looking at me like I was a piece of trash someone left on her pristine doorstep.
“Jane Ellis,” she said, her voice smooth as silk but sharp underneath. “Wow. What a surprise.”
I stiffened. “You know who I am.”
“Hard not to,” she said. “Your face has been on enough covers next to your precious daddy.”
I clenched my jaw.
My father .
Of course.
I’d stood beside him at press conferences. Sat next to him at charity galas. He always put on a show—hand on my shoulder, fake smile, pretending to be the proud, loving dad.
To the world, Richard Ellis was the picture of class. A family man. A generous donor. A powerful, caring father.
And every time someone told me how lucky I was, how “blessed” to have such a strong figure in my life, all I wanted to do was laugh in their face.
Because they didn’t know.
They didn’t know about the cold stares, the endless punishments, the cruel words whispered behind closed doors. The dark rooms. The silence. The bruises on my heart.
He was no family man.
He was a monster.
Rosie narrowed her eyes, snapping me back to the present.
“Why are you here?” she asked flatly.
“I need to talk to Carter,” I said, lifting my chin. “It’s important.”
Rosie crossed her arms, eyebrows raised. “Let me guess. You’ve come to cry about how you didn’t know who he was. Or maybe you’re here for money?”
“No.” My voice was firm now. “I need to talk to him. Alone.”
Rosie gave a dry laugh. “You’re not getting anywhere near my brother.”
I hesitated, heart hammering. I didn’t want to say it. Not to her. But I couldn’t leave without trying.
“I’m pregnant,” I said quietly. “And it’s his.”
The air shifted.
For a second, Rosie didn’t speak.
Then she stepped forward, heels clicking with every sharp step, until we were toe to toe.
“Say that again,” she said, her voice low and dangerous.
I met her stare. “I said I’m pregnant. And it’s Carter’s.”
Her laugh this time was cruel. Loud.
“Oh, that’s rich,” she said. “How long did it take you to come up with that one? Did Daddy put you up to this? Trying to trap Carter into a scandal to ruin our name?”
“What? No! That’s not—”
“You think I don’t know who you are?” she snapped. “You’re Jane Ellis. Daughter of the man who’s tried to destroy my family for years. You’re not some poor little girl who accidentally fell into Carter’s arms. You planned this.”
“I didn’t,” I whispered. “It just… happened.”
“Bullshit,” she hissed. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not—”
“You’re a gold-digger. A manipulative, desperate little snake who thought she could play in the big leagues.”
Her words hit like slaps.
“I didn’t ask for this,” I said. “I didn’t plan it. I just thought he should know—”
“You want to trap him? Is that the game? You think a baby is gonna get you a seat at our table?”
I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “I don’t want a seat at anyone’s table. I just want to do the right thing.”
Rosie’s jaw tightened. She turned to the security guard standing nearby and pointed at me. “Get her out of here.”
“What?”
She hissed, “I said get her out.”
The guard stepped toward me, and I backed up.
“I just need to talk to him,” I pleaded. “Please—”
But Rosie’s voice rose above mine.
“You’re done here, Ellis . And if you try to come back, I’ll make sure you’ll regret it.”