Chapter 6

I stared at the massive diamond ring. The firelight danced across the perfect stone. It felt like a trap. It felt like a deal with the absolute devil.

I looked up at Inigo. His dark eyes were completely unreadable. He stood tall and imposing in the quiet bedroom. He was the man who provided the fake passports. He was the man who helped Troy vanish.

But he was also the only man standing between my son and absolute ruin.

I looked down at my arms. Arthur shifted in his sleep. His tiny, warm hands curled into small fists. I had no money. I had no home. I was a fugitive from a psychiatric ward.

If I walked out into the freezing forest alone, Troy would find me. He would take my baby forever. He would kill me.

I took a slow, shaking breath. I reached out and took the velvet box from Inigo’s hand.

"I will marry you," I whispered.

Inigo did not smile. He simply gave a short, firm nod.

Suddenly, Arthur let out a loud, piercing wail. The sudden movement woke him up. His small face turned bright red. He cried with absolute desperation.

I panicked. I bounced him gently. I shushed him softly. Nothing worked. My own stress and fear were bleeding into him. My arms were shaking violently from the exhaustion of the night.

"Please, Arthur," I begged softly. "Please be quiet."

Inigo stepped closer. The cold, dangerous aura around him vanished completely.

"May I?" he asked gently.

I hesitated for a brief second. Then, I carefully handed my crying son to the massive stranger.

Inigo took Arthur into his strong arms. He held the tiny baby with surprising, practiced care. He rested Arthur’s head against his broad chest. He began to sway slowly back and forth.

"It is alright, little one," Inigo murmured. His deep, aristocratic voice was incredibly soothing. "You are completely safe now. No one will ever hurt you again."

He rubbed Arthur’s back with a large, warm hand. Within seconds, the loud crying stopped. Arthur let out a soft sigh and closed his eyes. He fell right back to sleep against Inigo’s chest.

I watched them in absolute shock. The ruthless, dangerous man was holding my baby like a precious treasure. My heart gave a strange, unexpected flutter. Maybe Inigo Yuchengco was not a monster after all.

The next morning, the winter sun broke through the heavy gray clouds.

I stood in Inigo’s private study. The room was lined with dark wood bookshelves and rich leather furniture. I wore a simple, elegant white dress that his staff provided. The diamond ring felt heavy and strange on my left hand.

An older magistrate stood behind a large mahogany desk. He wore a dark suit and a serious expression. He did not ask any questions. He simply pushed a thick, official marriage document toward me.

"Sign here, please," the magistrate instructed.

I picked up the heavy gold pen. My hand trembled slightly. I signed the paper. I was no longer Helena Smith, the broken, grieving widow. I was officially Inigo’s wife. I was completely under his legal protection.

Inigo signed his name next to mine with bold, confident strokes.

"Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Yuchengco," the magistrate said quietly. He packed his briefcase and left the study without another word.

We were completely alone. The silence in the massive room was deafening.

Inigo walked over to a small wooden cabinet. He opened the doors and turned on a flat-screen television.

"Watch this," Inigo said softly.

I looked at the bright screen. A local news anchor sat behind a sleek desk. The breaking news banner flashed in bright red letters across the bottom of the screen.

My own face appeared on the television. It was an old photograph from my wedding day.

"Tragedy struck the Smith family once again late last night," the news anchor announced solemnly. "Helena Smith, the grieving widow of the late architect Troy Smith, was found dead in her room at a private psychiatric facility. Authorities confirm the cause of death was a massive, intentional overdose of sedatives. She took her own life just weeks after her husband jumped into the Thames River."

I gasped loudly. I pressed my hand over my mouth.

"They think I am dead," I whispered in pure shock.

"Troy paid an orderly to murder you last night," Inigo explained coldly. "But you were already gone. The orderly panicked. He staged the room to look like a successful suicide so he could still collect his payment from Troy. The hospital covered up the missing body to avoid a massive scandal."

I stared at the television. My past was completely erased. Helena Smith was officially a ghost. I was dead to the world.

I was finally safe.

Suddenly, the heavy oak doors of the study burst open.

Inigo’s elderly butler rushed into the room. His face was pale. He looked completely terrified.

"Sir, I apologize for the intrusion," the butler stammered quickly. "But we have a severe emergency."

Inigo frowned. He stepped in front of me protectively. "What is it?"

"It is Troy Smith, sir," the butler announced. "He just called from the main gate. He is arriving at the estate in exactly ten minutes."

My blood turned to pure ice. My heart stopped beating.

"He is completely frantic, sir," the butler continued. "He is screaming about a kidnapping. He said his baby is missing. He is demanding your immediate help to find the child."