POV Norah
The clatter of cutlery stilled.
Every whisper, every mocking laugh, every poisoned word dissolved into silence as Xander rose to his feet.
His hand was still wrapped tightly around mine, anchoring me to him, but when he let go and pushed his chair back, the room seemed to tilt with the force of his presence.
“Enough,” he thundered. The sound carried, cutting through the gilded dining hall like a blade. Faces turned, eyes widened, and even my heartbeat seemed to pause.
I expected arrogance. I expected him to wield the Crawford name like a shield, to snap and rage like the ruthless man I knew he could be.
But instead—his voice shifted, low, raw, and startlingly human.
“She is not a contract,” Xander said, his gaze sweeping the room, daring anyone to contradict him. “Not a surrogate. She is the woman I love. And she carries my child—my heir.”
Gasps rippled through the guests, a chorus of shock and disbelief. Business partners leaned forward, scandal burning in their eyes. His mother’s fingers clutched her pearls. The room was suspended in disbelief, but Xander… he didn’t falter.
He turned then—toward me. And in that moment, there was nothing else.
No whispers, no enemies, no watchful eyes. Just him and me. His face was unguarded, stripped bare of pride or cruelty.
“Norah,” he said, my name trembling with emotion I had never heard from him before.
My breath caught.
Then, to my utter shock, he dropped to one knee before me. The air drained from my lungs as I saw his hand slip toward his pocket, his eyes locked on mine.
The world narrowed to a single heartbeat. My chest ached with a thousand emotions—fear, love, disbelief, hope. The room blurred, but Xander’s voice tethered me.
“I should have said this sooner,” he whispered fiercely. “I should have fought harder, protected you better. But hear me now, in front of everyone: I love you. You, Norah. No one else.”
My lips parted, trembling, but before I could even form a word—
A piercing cry shattered the moment.
Alaina.
Her hand flew to her stomach, her face contorted with pain. She staggered back into her chair with a dramatic gasp.
“My baby!” she screamed, loud enough to pierce every corner of the room. “Xander’s baby— it’s in danger!”
Chaos erupted instantly. Guests surged to their feet, some shouting for a doctor, others scrambling away from the table as though tragedy were contagious. The clinking of glasses toppled, the shuffle of panicked heels echoed off marble floors.
I stood frozen, the spell broken, my chest tightening as I watched the perfect moment collapse.
Alaina moaned loudly, clutching her belly as tears streaked her cheeks. “Please! Help me! The baby— Xander, our baby—”
My knees nearly buckled.
My baby. His baby.
She threw the words like knives at me, branding me in front of his family, his partners, his entire world.
Xander stood sharply, torn between two worlds—the one he had just offered me and the one crumbling before his eyes. Fury flashed across his face, but so did panic.
“Alaina—” His voice cracked, low and taut.
“Get her to the hospital!” his grandmother barked from the head of the table, her voice cold, commanding. “Now, Xander. If that child is yours, it must be protected.”
“Grandmother, enough!” His hand clenched into a fist, his jaw tight.
He turned back toward me. His eyes found mine, pleading, desperate, searching for something—understanding, forgiveness, a promise that I wasn’t breaking inside.
But I was.
Every guest’s eyes were on him, on us. Whispers coiled through the chaos: She’s pregnant too. Whose is real? Whose will he choose?
Xander’s hand reached for me for just a second, trembling at his side—but then Alaina screamed again, folding over, sobbing into her palms.
“My baby!” she wailed, shaking. “It’s hurt… Xander, please!”
And that was it.
With a curse under his breath, Xander lunged forward, scooping her into his arms as if she weighed nothing. She clung to him, her nails digging into his suit jacket, her head pressed to his chest, milking every ounce of pity and attention from the crowd.
I stood there, rooted to the spot, watching in horror as the man who had just declared his love for me, who had just promised me the world, carried another woman into the night.
Our eyes locked one final time across the wreckage of the dinner table. His gaze burned with fury, with apology, with a thousand words left unsaid.
And then he was gone.