Chapter 162
Chapter 162:
She watched his car vanish without a single fluctuation in her heartbeat. Every choice he had made for Alycia tonight was no longer a betrayal — it was simply cold, objective confirmation of her decision to leave. His actions only proved how utterly absurd the past three years had been, and that realization made the pure, absolute liberation now spreading through her chest feel better than anything else in the world.
The Bentley pulled into the private underground garage of Cole’s Manhattan penthouse.
Alycia’s parents had aggressively insisted that Cole bring her to his home, claiming her “pregnancy” was too fragile for her to be left alone in her own apartment. Bound by his twisted sense of guilt over Caleb, Cole had been unable to refuse.
He escorted Alycia up the private elevator. The atmosphere inside the metal compartment was suffocatingly tense.
The moment the doors opened into the massive, ultra-modern penthouse, Cole pointed toward the guest wing. “You will sleep in the east bedroom,” he said, his voice flat and exhausted. “I have work to do p>
He didn’t wait for her response. He walked straight into his glass-walled study and shut the door behind him.
Alycia stood in the foyer, her eyes narrowing. She had dropped the ultimate bomb — the claim that she was carrying the Compton heir. Now she needed to solidify her position. She needed to force an intimacy between them tonight, to make the lie feel real before it could unravel.
An hour later, she emerged from the guest bathroom.
She had spent forty minutes preparing. She wore an expensive, nearly transparent black lace nightgown that clung tightly to her figure. She poured two glasses of deep red wine, then moved softly down the hallway and pushed the study door open.
𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗳𝗮𝘃𝗼𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝗻
Cole was sitting behind his desk, staring blankly at the glowing laptop screen. He looked completely drained.
Alycia crossed the room and positioned herself behind his heavy leather chair. She leaned down, pressing herself against his back.
“Cole,” she whispered, her voice drenched in artificial sweetness, her hands sliding over his shoulders. “Stop working. We need to create a warm environment — for the baby p>
The instant her hands made contact, Cole’s entire body locked up.
A wave of physical revulsion shot up his spine. His stomach churned with pure nausea. Alycia ignored the rigidity in his posture. Her hands moved down to his chest, and she began to unbutton his dress shirt.
Cole shoved his chair back violently.
He shot to his feet, knocking her hands away as though they were contaminated. The force of the movement sent the heavy leather chair crashing backward onto the hardwood floor with a loud bang.
Alycia stumbled back, eyes wide with genuine shock.
Cole stared at her. There was no desire in his expression — only a cold, almost frightening disgust. He forced himself to swallow the bile rising in his throat. He needed a reason. He needed to get her out of the room without triggering another hysterical scene.
“Alycia,” Cole said, his voice harsh and rigid. “You are pregnant. We need to respect your health and the baby’s safety p>
Alycia stepped toward him, tears of humiliation filling her eyes. “I just need you, Cole. I was so scared tonight p>
Cole took a large step backward, putting the full width of the desk between them. His eyes were utterly blank.