The Day His Secretary Broke His Heir - Chapter 4: Chapter 4

Victoria's face darkened at the suggestion. "Mr. Blackwood, it's scorching outside. What if you get heatstroke? I'll have Emily bring the documents to you."
"I'll be fine. I'm heading to the office anyway."
"Then I'll have her meet you in the underground parking lot."
"Fine."
My heart sank.
The other secretaries gushed over Victoria's thoughtfulness, praising how she ensured Mr. Blackwood wouldn't endure even a moment of discomfort.
Victoria preened, her smug expression making it seem like she was his real wife. "True love means caring for every little detail."
Then her gaze snapped to me, sharp as a blade. "But anyone who dares to set their sights on my man will regret it."
My face throbbed, my thin clothes offering no protection. My skin was exposed, my once slightly rounded stomach now flat.
I knew there was no way out.
Touching my empty belly, silent tears fell. My unborn child was gone.
I memorized every face in that room, especially Victoria's. I would make them pay—especially her. She would bleed for this.
"What's that look for?" Victoria struck me again. "Still defiant?"
Her eyes darkened. "Are those even real?" She picked up a utility knife. "Let's find out."
She stepped closer, a demon in designer heels.
The blade plunged into my chest.
Pain exploded through me. Blood seeped, my vision blurring.
Then, Ethan's voice cut through the haze.
"Victoria, where are my documents?"
The knife clattered to the floor.
She exchanged panicked glances with the others, smoothed her skirt, and stepped out.
"Mr. Blackwood, you're early."
"The files."
"Right here. Let me grab them for you."
Silence.
I tried to scream, but no sound came.
The secretaries watched, smirking.
The door was shut. Ethan couldn't see me.
I had to do something.
The conference room was bare—just a table and chairs.
Gritting my teeth, I shoved a chair with what little strength I had left.
It scraped against the table.
One secretary glanced at the door, relieved when nothing happened.
Then the knife was yanked from my chest.
A hand clamped over my mouth. The blade pinned my palm to the floor.
My screams were swallowed by her grip.
Rage burned through me.
Ethan was right there, yet he had no idea.
His own secretary had murdered our child.
"Here are the documents, Mr. Blackwood."
"Good."
"Should I come with you?"
"No."
Footsteps faded.
Then—paused.
"Actually," Ethan's voice turned back, "where's that woman you mentioned earlier?"
Victoria hesitated. "Oh, her? I handled it. She's gone."
"Just felt off today. Never mind."
He started to leave again.
I screamed inside my head.
Then—
Ethan stopped.
His voice dropped, tense. "Whose lunchbox is this?"