### Chapter 10 A hushed sigh escaped Victoria’s lips as the weight of the moment settled upon her. Concealing the truth from Alaric seemed like the only path forward—an uncharted territory that kept the tensions of awkwardness at bay. In her mind, the dynamics of their relationship took on the veneer of a business deal, one that promised mutual benefits if played just right. With that thought swirling, she pushed away from Alaric, feeling his breath too close for her comfort. “It’s certainly not you.” His expression darkened at her words, the frown marring his handsome features. “What do you mean by that? Is there someone else who knows you better than I do? Who is it?” Unbeknownst to him, the tension in his voice revealed the storm brewing beneath the surface. Victoria chose silence, letting her muted response intensify his frustration. Alaric wouldn’t let it go, grabbing her shoulders with a tight grip, his voice dripping with urgency. “Is it a man or a woman?” The relentless pressure made her brows furrow in discomfort, prompting her to shove his hands away. “That hurts. Please don’t touch me.” He eased his grip slightly, but determination flickered in his eyes. “If you don’t want me touching you, then just tell me the truth. Who knows you better than I do? And what’s this about a report?” His inquiries, relentless as a storm, left no room for evasion. She finally replied, her voice steady, “Nobody. I know myself best. Don't read too much into what I say. And honestly, I don’t even know what report you’re talking about. Is it for work or something else? You’ll need to be more specific.” Her calmness only seemed to further provoke his suspicions. Alaric narrowed his gaze, a hint of accusation laced in his tone. “The maid said she found a torn piece of paper while cleaning up." A torn piece of paper? Could that be the report? Victoria met his gaze, unfazed. “What report? Where is it?” “It was found in the room and was torn. Do you claim it’s not yours?” “A torn paper? Yes, it’s mine.” She averted her eyes, feigning interest in her laptop. “It was a report from the hospital. What’s wrong with that?” Suddenly, his eyes bore into hers, fierce and inquisitive. “What kind of report?” Staying composed, she responded, “Just my medical checkup report. Is there a problem?” Alaric’s scoff felt like a challenge. “You think you can fool me? Why on Earth would you tear it?” The gravity in his voice made her heart race. Then he tightened his hold on her wrist, urgency seeping into his words. “Tell me, Victoria. What are you hiding?” As he pressed down harder, she felt the dull throb of anxiety creeping in, forcing her to explain in a softer tone, “I didn’t tear it on purpose. It was soaked when it rained, and I couldn’t read it anymore. That’s why I tossed it.” “Then why tear it before throwing it away?” His skepticism remained unyielding, the shadow of doubt flickering in his eyes. She locked eyes with him, her mind racing to quell his concerns. “Have you ever thought that maybe I didn’t tear it at all?” “What do you mean?” “It poured that day, Alaric. When I pulled the report out, it was already soggy. Some pieces even got stuck to my clothes. I had to peel them off one by one.” His expression shifted as he processed her words, a faint glimmer of understanding sparking in his eyes as he envisioned the chaotic downpour that must have engulfed her. The paper had become a victim of circumstance, discarded along with her damp clothes, only to dry out and appear torn in the hands of the maids. Finally convinced, Alaric’s grip softened, the tension ebbing from his shoulders. But before she could relax, she decided to cast another line into the murky waters of their conversation. “Why are you so agitated? Are you worried that it might be a pregnancy report?” Initially, he meant to dispute her notion, but the mere suggestion struck a nerve and squeezed tightly around his heart. Attempting to mask his rising emotions, he met her gaze, noting the mischievous arch of her brow. “What expression is that? Are you worried that my life with Claudia could be affected?" “Are you pregnant?” His voice became sharp, piercing through the doubts like a blade. Victoria shrugged, a nonchalant facade that belied the turmoil beneath. “No, or I would have shown you the report. Besides, as childhood friends, I suppose you’d compensate me well enough if I needed to terminate a pregnancy, wouldn’t you?” His brow furrowed at her unfeeling tone, an unease stirring within him. “What did you just say? You’re going for an abortion?” Her heart stammered at the mention of the word. “I’m just speaking hypothetically.” He pressed further, almost defiantly. “What if it’s not?” “What do you mean, ‘if it’s not’?” The frown on her face deepened, intertwining with confusion. His gaze narrowed, clouded with emotions that concealed a torrent beneath the surface. “If you were pregnant, would you consider abortion?” Subconsciously, she nodded and lowered her head, a barely audible, “Maybe,” escaping her lips. But her answer darkened his expression, transforming it into something more menacing. Frustration clawed at him at her casual demeanor regarding such a heavy topic, stirring a storm of anxiety in the pit of his stomach. “What will happen to you and Claudia if you decide against terminating the pregnancy?” The cold weight of his question knocked the breath from her, a bucket of ice plunging into her thoughts. In that moment, Alaric’s focus shifted, taking in her porcelain skin, the vivid red of her lips, all sharply defined features that demanded attention. She was captivating, an unimaginable beauty that pulled the eye like a moth to a flame. With a calming breath, he let go of the tumultuous thoughts swirling within him. “You don’t have to go to the company today. Get some rest.” His voice turned cold, smoothing over the tempest brewing just beneath the surface. He turned away, exiting the bedroom with an ice-cold air that wrapped around him like an unyielding shroud. Inside, he wrestled with the bitter truth: even if she were to be pregnant, she would have no choice but to terminate the pregnancy. Claudia could never know, and he would not—could not—let her down. The memory of that fateful day when Alaric had nearly lost his life surged back—the river's icy grip pulling him under, the relentless currents dragging him closer to an inevitable demise. He could recall the near suffocation, the desperation in his chest as darkness encroached upon him. Just before giving in to the abyss, he had seen her—a slender form diving into the treacherous waters, moving toward him with a swiftness that defied belief. But then, the world faded to black. When awareness returned, he found himself in a hospital, confusion swirling until he learned of Claudia's injuries—how she had braved the depths to save him, her hands marred by jagged stones. That day had cemented his resolve. He would cherish Claudia, honor her bravery with the promise of a future. She was worth a lifetime of gratitude for the price she’d paid to ensure his survival. And so, the pact was sealed, a silent promise vibrating in the air between them—one he would never break.