Chapter 5

"Fine. Since you already know, I won't hide it anymore. Vivian's brother is the only male heir in her family. And it wasn't intentional. Your father ran a red light in the rain. If you ask me, he had it coming."

Had it coming?

A knot of fury lodged in my throat, too heavy to swallow, too bitter to spit out.

I'd seen the surveillance footage from that intersection. My father had the green light. Now he was dead, and they still had the nerve to smear his name.

Vivian suddenly dropped to her knees in front of me, clutching the baby to her chest. "Phoebe, I'm begging you. If you forgive my brother and keep him out of prison, I promise I'll take the child and leave. I'll disappear from Benedict's life for good."

She knocked her forehead against the floor, tears streaming down her face.

Something pained flickered through Benedict's eyes. He moved to shield Vivian and the child. "Phoebe, when did you become so unreasonable? Your father's death was an accident. Are you really going to destroy an innocent man's future over this?"

My heart felt like it had been placed on a millstone, ground down again and again, until the pain was so immense I could barely breathe.

Vivian's brother was innocent? And my father wasn't?

I ground my teeth, unable to believe this was the man I'd loved for ten years. "Benedict, I'm telling you right now—I will make sure Derek Chambers rots in prison!"

Benedict seized my wrist. "No. Phoebe, if you insist on pressing charges, I'll divorce you!"

The air went dead silent.

A laugh tore out of me, raw and broken, my eyes burning red. "Fine. Divorce me."

A wave of panic flickered through Benedict's chest, formless and sharp.

Could Phoebe have found out about the fake marriage?

But before he could think further, Naomi walked in holding my daughter's urn, one eyebrow raised in triumph. "Phoebe, you dare destroy this family's peace, and I'll smash this precious little thing to pieces."

Every drop of blood in my body rushed to my head. I lunged forward, screaming. "Give that back to me! Do you have any idea what that—"

Benedict's palm cracked across my face and sent me to the floor. Meeting my stunned, disbelieving eyes, guilt crept into his voice. "I'm sorry, Phoebe. You insisted on making a scene. I had no choice—"

Naomi raised the urn high above her head, a deliberate threat. "Phoebe. Sign the forgiveness agreement, and everyone walks away happy."

I squeezed my eyes shut against the agony. On one side, my father's body, his eyes still open in death. On the other, the memory of my daughter kicking inside my belly.

I looked at Benedict through bloodshot eyes. "Benedict, do you really have to push me this far?"

Something unreadable passed through his gaze. He frowned, confused. "Phoebe, your father is gone. The dead can't come back. Can't you just think of it as building good karma for our daughter? She's still in the incubator at the hospital—"

But he didn't know yet. Our daughter was already dead.

"I'll sign."

They watched me write my name on the forgiveness agreement. Every one of them smiled, satisfied.

Benedict stared at my eyes—hollow, drained of every last spark of life—and a knot of unease tightened in his chest. He strode toward me, eager to make amends. "Phoebe, don't worry. I'll call the hospital right now and make sure the doctors are giving our daughter the best care."

He dialed. On the other end, a nurse answered as though she'd just heard the most absurd thing in the world. "Layla Young? That baby died right after she was born. You're her father, and you didn't even know?"