The Blackmail contract Bride - Chapter 53: Chapter 53

Lena POV:
The dream made no sense at all.
Cane was at one end of the hallway, standing there with rain-soaked clothes and his hand reaching out toward me. His eyes were agitated, filled with a mix of pleading, anger, and desperation.
I could feel Dominic behind me. He was silent and still, not touching me, but close enough that I could feel his warmth radiating toward me.
“Come with me,” Cane urged. “You don’t belong in this place.”
Dominic remained silent, just staring at me like I was already his, as if I had always belonged to him.
“I can keep you safe,” Cane insisted, taking a step closer. “I’ve always protected you.”
But when I glanced back, Dominic was cradling something in his arms. A baby. Our baby.
He locked eyes with mine. “If you leave, don’t expect to return.”
And that’s when the hallway ignited in flames.
I jolted awake, gasping for breath.
My hands instinctively found my belly, it was still soft, still mine.
No flames. No Cane. No Dominic.
Just me in my room, the pale morning light filtering through the curtains, and my heart racing as if it might leap from my chest.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed, breathing heavily. My palms were clammy and my head throbbed.
I couldn’t discern what hurt more: the fear or the painful truth behind it.
The door creaked open.
I turned quickly, perhaps too quickly.
Dominic stood in the doorway, shirtless, clad only in black pajama pants, his sleep-heavy eyes still alert.
“I heard you,” he said simply.
He wasn’t shouting or barking orders. He was just… there.
I couldn’t find my voice. My throat felt constricted.
His gaze shifted to my face, noticing my cheeks still damp from tears I had no recollection of shedding.
He stepped further into the room. “Bad dream?”
Still, I stayed silent.
He picked up the glass from my nightstand, poured water from the small carafe, and offered it to me.
I accepted it with shaky hands and took a sip.
He settled at the edge of the bed, close, but maintaining a respectful distance.
The silence stretched between us for what felt like ages.
It didn’t carry the weight it usually did.
It wasn’t punishing.
Instead, it felt like… a moment of respite.
And for the first time in weeks, I allowed myself to embrace it.
The next morning, he didn’t act as if nothing had happened.
He actually knocked before entering.
I was still tucked under the covers, my head pounding from a night of restless sleep.
Dominic stood in the doorway, holding a laptop and a file.
“You can sit up,” he said, his tone gentle. “I’m not here to give you a lecture.”
With some effort, I maneuvered myself upright.
He placed the items on the bed and opened the laptop.
“I have some ideas,” he said. “For the baby, clothes, nursery, practical items.”
I blinked in surprise. “You want me to… choose?”
“You're the mother,” he replied, as if it should have been obvious. “Your opinion matters.”
It caught me off guard.
Dominic Knight wasn’t one to share control.
I glanced at the screen. There were pastel onesies, crib sets, and mobiles shaped like clouds and stars.
It all felt strangely surreal.
“Gender-neutral?” I asked, lightly touching the trackpad.
“We won’t know until later,” he said. “Unless you’ve changed your mind about wanting to find out.”
I shook my head.
Then, more quietly, I added, “I haven’t even heard a heartbeat yet.”
He closed the laptop gently. “That’ll happen soon.”
That word again.
Always soon.
Later that afternoon, I took a stroll around the grounds, sticking close to the path by the rose bushes.
A butterfly landed on my arm, and for a fleeting moment, I didn’t dare to move.
Its wings, a vibrant mix of orange and black, felt like stained glass dancing softly against my skin.
Before I could process this quiet encounter, it fluttered away.
Maybe everything here had a way of slipping away in time.
Including me.
When I returned inside, I found Dominic in the main sitting room, engrossed in a phone call.
I lingered by the stairs, trying to stay unseen.
“I’ve already increased security threefold,” he said. “If Cane makes another attempt, yes, I get it. I know the stakes. Just do your job.”
There was a brief silence.
Then his voice softened, taking on a more intimate tone. “I need her protected. That’s what’s most important.”
I froze at his words, feeling as if they were a secret I accidentally overheard.
I had no idea what to make of them.
That night, sleep eluded me.
Instead, I curled up on the couch, clutching a pillow to my chest while the laptop, still warm from earlier, rested beside me.
I had saved two nursery photos earlier.
Just to keep for later, I reassured myself.
That was all it was.
Somewhere after midnight, I heard hushed voices.
They weren’t loud, but they were distinct.
I quietly made my way down the hallway, passing by the study where the door was slightly ajar.
First, I heard Mira’s voice, assertive, filled with anger.
“She needs to know the truth.”
Dominic's response followed, much softer. “She’s not ready.”
“She is. You’re the one who isn’t prepared.”
“She’ll leave.”
“If she wants to leave, she deserves that,” Mira replied. “You can’t keep her here like this, Dom.”
A brief silence followed.
Then she added, “If you love her, let her decide.”
My breath caught in my throat.
Love?
That word lingered in the air like a wisp of smoke, heavy and enigmatic.
I slipped away before they became aware of my presence.
From that moment on, sleep remained elusive.
The next morning, I found myself at the kitchen window, cradling a cup of tea I couldn’t bring myself to drink.
The baby hadn’t kicked.
I absentmindedly stroked my stomach, trying to avoid overthinking or feeling anything at all.
Dominic entered behind me. I didn’t need to look to know it was him.
His presence felt like a shadow, always there, always near.
“Did you sleep at all?” he asked.
“No.”
A pause followed. “Was it that dream again?”
“No.”
He fell silent after that.
We both stood there, gazing out the window as if it held some hidden answers.
The tea grew cold in my hands.
Later that night, I found myself on the floor of my room, knees drawn to my chest, scrolling through the saved nursery photos once more.
One featured a small crib by the window.
Another showed a rocking chair draped in a cozy blanket.
It was a serene little space, so far removed from the chaos I was caught up in.
I envisioned myself there with my baby.
No guards.
No locked doors.
No secrets.
Just fresh air to breathe.
But deep down, I knew better.
Such places were lost to me now.
As I closed my laptop and climbed into bed, Dominic’s voice replayed in my mind.
Not the harsh words or threats.
Just that singular word Mira had uttered.
Love.
If he truly loved me, why did it feel like a prison?
Why did it ache like an unhealed wound?
And if I chose to stay, if I committed to him…
Would I ever taste freedom again?