Lavenia's POV
"Lav, where have you been? You didn't come home all night," Dad greeted me as I stepped into the house after this morning's class.
I came home early because I wasn't feeling well and didn't tell Hero anything. I didn't want him to worry too much. After all, I've already cut ties with those four guys.
Those who still want to stick around, fine. But I can't make any promises to them.
"I… was in class," I replied casually.
"Class at night? Since when?" Dad pressed again.
This time I didn't answer; instead, I started walking up the stairs, but when I reached the top, my steps halted. Someone was standing in my room, the door wide open.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, just as Dad's shout echoed from the first floor.
"Dr. Lane came looking for you. He's waiting in the room."
Too late. I'd already spotted him before Dad spoke. But why was he here?
I ignored him, instead walking in and placing my bag in the walk-in closet, then, without paying him any mind, grabbing the change of clothes I'd wear before resting.
But Dr. Lane grabbed my hand and turned me to face him.
"I came to check on your condition," he said—words I couldn't immediately believe. He might have had another motive, whatever it was. But one thing was certain: it wasn't the same as what Hero did.
Dr. Lane was the one who dominated that night. He was the one who completely controlled me under his grip. So, even though he was the one who spoke the least—except through his gaze, which always seemed vigilant—I could say he was probably the one who contributed the most DNA to this baby, assuming all four of them had a share.
It might be impossible, but what isn't possible in this life?
"I'm healthy and don't need an exam," I replied coldly, then turned to head into the bathroom, but he grabbed my arm.
His gaze was sharp and intimidating, but not in a bad way. He seemed to be trying to keep us from crossing a line.
"If you don't want to, let me check your pup," he added. And at the same time, he guided me to sit or lie down on the bed. "Lie down, if that makes you more comfortable," he said. However, I chose to stay seated.
He took out his equipment and began the examination. He checked my heart rate, pulse, blood pressure, and oxygen saturation, and when he reached my abdomen, he paused. His gaze went blank for a moment before he placed the stethoscope on my stomach.
"What's wrong?" I asked. "Do you feel guilty about that pup because you didn't own up to it? Or… do you just wanna make sure it wasn't yours? It could be something else. I think I know what's on your mind," I said.
"Then tell me what you know is on my mind," he said, still focusing his attention on the object in his hand.
I couldn't answer. I was just trying to get him to say something, but it didn't happen. He remained silent, and before long, he stood up, handing me the package with his handsome, expressionless face.
Those ocean-blue irises stared deeply into mine before he finally spoke, "From now on, I'll come regularly once a week to check on you. Take all these medications, and you mustn't act recklessly because you're not alone now. There's another life inside your womb."
He seemed to try to touch my stomach, but I pulled away and glared at him.
"Why are you being nice to me? We don't even know each other. You don't acknowledge this baby, do you?"
"Because it's my duty. And as for the baby, I can't say anything yet about my reaction, but it's not just me who isn't ready to react—you'd surely be reluctant and hate my reaction too."
I snorted, laughed bitterly, and tossed the package in my hand onto the nightstand.
"You know what? Your attitude is torturing me terribly, Dr. Lane. But I guess you'll never care. You seem used to women coming and going, so you feel fine after doing whatever you like—toward me."
He sighed. I still couldn't find any meaningful expression on his face. "You don't know anything, Lav. You'd better do what I say and take care of yourself."
He turned away without saying anything else besides about my health and the baby in my womb.
I slammed the door as he stepped out of my room and seemed about to turn back. I didn't want to see him again, ever.
I sat on the floor, running my fingers through my messy hair and hugging my knees. Curled up like a little child who'd cried all night over losing her favorite doll.
I might be feeling the same way. I feel a sense of loss. Alex Lane... I've lost the person I knew that night, even if only for a short while.
This was originally part of the agreement: there were to be no feelings between me and the four candidates. However, after the four of them discussed it, we added a clause stating that I would belong to whoever succeeded in making me fall in love.
Have I fallen in love with Alex Lane?
I went down to the first floor when I saw Dr. Lane's car leaving the mansion's driveway. Another misfortune was waiting. Damien was there, dressed neatly, and Dad was beaming.
"Lav… you're finally down. Damien's waiting for you," he said, to which I only replied with a glance toward his favorite future son-in-law. "When was the last time you two went on a date? He came to take you out to dinner."
"I don't wanna go out to dinner," I replied. "I feel sick just looking at him… I mean, looking at food."
Dad, who had been taken aback by my words, finally laughed. "You can ask him for any food you want. He knows the best restaurants in this city."
"Why don't you go on a date with him instead, since you seem to like him so much?" I replied, grabbing my jacket and car keys and heading out.
"Lavenia!" Dad snapped, managing to stop me, and since I didn't feel like arguing, I nodded.
"Fine... happy now? I'll change clothes first." I turned and was about to go up to the second floor, to my room, but Damien blocked my way.
"That's fine as it is. You look beautiful in anything."
I glared at him, but instead of listening to his nagging, I went up and down the stairs in an evening gown that left Damien and Dad wide-eyed.
"Lav, are you sure you want to wear that? You look like a whore. Change your clothes!" Dad ordered, but I turned and smiled.
"This is the right outfit. You don't know Damien's taste, do you? It's even lower than a prostitute's, Dad." Dad and Damien were about to speak, but I turned away. "Are we going or not? Don't make me wait."
Damien hurried to catch up with me, opening the car door like a gentleman, then drove carefully. Throughout the ride, we didn't speak, but I knew he was trying to find something to talk about. Time and again he turned his head and opened his mouth, but not a single word came out.
He pulled the car into the parking lot of a restaurant, got out, and approached one of the waiters.
A few pairs of eyes stared at us strangely. But I didn't react, knowing they were probably bothered by my outfit. Damien, too, seemed to be trying not to let it bother him and was trying to enjoy this as a rare moment between the two of us.
Or maybe he was just used to the fashion sense of his prostitutes.
"Reservation under the name Damien Shaw," he said, and the waiter showed us to our table.
"This way, Mr. and Mrs. Shaw," he said, then led us to a VIP table, handed us the menu once we were comfortably seated, and waited for us to order.
We didn't say much during the meal; he only spoke one sentence: "Did you hear when he called you Mrs. Shaw? It suits you perfectly, Lav."
I responded to his words with a sharp glare, causing him to fall silent immediately.
When we finished, we walked apart, though he repeatedly tried to get closer. However, something made me stop and step toward another table, where a couple was chatting affectionately. Several times the woman stroked his jaw, though the man just stared expressionlessly.
"Oh, Dr. Lane. I didn't expect to run into you here." I turned to Dr. Lane, who showed no reaction, then shifted my gaze to the woman in front of him, who looked bold and seemed skeptical of me.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"I'm Lavenia Howls." I extended my hand, which she immediately shook, then her gaze shifted to Dr. Lane.
"Do you know her?"
"She's... my patient."
"Ah… a patient," I said.
The woman turned to me again with a cynical look, as if she understood that I was her rival. From this, I concluded that it was true—Dr. Lane really was a fucking player.
"Do you have a feeling to him? If so, I'm telling you now to stay away." She stood up and faced me. "I am Lydia Ramiere, Dr. Alex Lane's fiancée, and if you're one of the many prostitutes he always hires, stop dreaming from now on because he's not interested in you—except to satisfy his lust."