Rebirth: The Blind Heiress Makes A Deal With The Devil

Silence settled over the office, thick and suffocating. The hum of the air conditioner in the corner seemed to grow louder.

Arthur stared at his client. His lawyer’s mind, sharp and cold, didn’t jump to excitement or shock. It immediately started pulling the statement apart, searching for the structural joint.

"Pregnant," Arthur repeated flatly.

"Yes!" Kian shouted, his voice cracking slightly before he pulled it back down into a harsh, desperate whisper. "She’s carrying my child."

Inside Kian’s head, it felt like a bomb had gone off.

Ever since the maid had managed to drop that tiny, desperate piece of news to him an hour ago, he hadn’t been able to think straight.

He hadn’t been able to drive properly. He had run two red lights on the way to Arthur’s office, his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard his palms were bruised.

He had done the math a thousand times in his head on the drive over. The years they had been married.

The weeks before she walked out. The last night they had been together in their bedroom, before she started rejecting his avdances, before Aaron Kazarov had stepped into their lives like a disease.

It was his.

He didn’t need a paper from a doctor. He didn’t need a lab test. He knew it in his bones. It was his blood inside her.

For weeks, he had felt like he was drowning.

The first time he showed up to court, every time he looked at her sitting next to that giant Russian bastard, he felt her slipping further and further out of his grip.

She was cutting every tie. She was changing her name, she was taking her life, she was throwing away their history, erasing him like he had never existed.

But this—

This was something she couldn’t erase.

"She’s carrying my child, Arthur," Kian repeated, his chest heaving as he stared at his lawyer.

His eyes were wide, gleaming with a dark, wild light that hadn’t been there before. "She can’t just walk away now. She can’t."

Arthur watched him closely, his own face remaining entirely still. "How do you know this, Kian?"

Kian froze.

The question hit him like a cold bucket of water, but it didn’t wash away the fire in his eyes. He hesitated, his jaw working as he tried to find a way to phrase it.

"I have my sources," Kian said defensively, his voice dropping. "It doesn’t matter how I know. The point is that it’s true. She’s pregnant."

"It matters entirely how you know," Arthur said coldly. He stepped back from the desk, pulling his chair out and sitting down, crossing his hands over his stomach.

"If you walk into a courtroom and claim your estranged wife is carrying a child, the very first word out of the judge’s mouth will be to ask where you obtained that medical information."

Kian gritted his teeth. "I can’t tell them that."

"Because you bribed someone in her house," Arthur stated plainly. He didn’t even sound surprised.

"Or you paid a maid to go through her bathroom trash. Either way, the moment you admit that in open court, Niko will have you cited for harassment and violation of the temporary separation order before you can finish your sentence. The judge will throw out the claim and lock you out of the proceedings."

Kian slammed his fist onto the desk. "So we just do nothing?! We have the ultimate leverage, Arthur! If she’s pregnant, the divorce can’t just be processed like a clean break! We can stall the entire thing! We can force her to come back to the table!"

"Listen to me," Arthur said, his voice dropping into that quiet, commanding register he used when he needed a client to stop drowning. "You don’t go into court and announce it as a fact."

Kian frowned, his breath still ragged. "What?"

"We don’t claim she is pregnant," Arthur said, leaning forward, resting his elbows on the wood. "We ask the court to ’verify’ if she is."

Kian’s mouth stayed open for a second as the words sank in.

"Verify it," Kian whispered.

"Exactly," Arthur said, a faint, dark glint touching his eyes.

"We don’t say she ’is’ pregnant. We ask the judge to order a full medical evaluation to determine if she is."

Kian’s breath hitched. A slow, ugly smile began to pull at the corners of his mouth. "And if the judge orders the test..."

"Then she has to take it," Arthur said. "And if it comes back positive, we immediately move to request a non-invasive prenatal paternity test to establish your legal rights before any final decree can be signed."

Kian let out a long, shuddering breath. He sank into the leather chair across from Arthur, his hands resting on his knees. He looked up at the ceiling, a dry, hysterical laugh bubbling up from his chest.

"She thought she was free," Kian whispered, his eyes bright, almost glowing with a terrifying kind of relief. "She thought she could just run off with him and pretend I never happened."

Arthur sat back, watching Kian quiet down.

The way Kian was looking at the wall... it wasn’t the look of a man who was happy to be a father. It wasn’t about a baby. It was about a chain.

For the last one month, Kian had been losing his mind because Isabella had slipped through his fingers.

But now, he looked like a man who had just been handed a fresh pair of handcuffs to slap around her wrists.

He didn’t care about the child’s future. He cared that as long as that child existed, Isabella was bound to him by law, by blood, by court dates, by custody battles that could drag on for the next twenty years.

She could never fully leave him.

Arthur felt a cold stroke of discomfort slide down his spine as he looked at Kian.

He had represented bad men before.

He had represented abusive husbands, dirty businessmen, men who fought over money until there was nothing left.

But looking at Kian right now, Arthur realized this wasn’t about pride anymore. It wasn’t even about winning the lawsuit.

Kian was sick with her. It was a dark, rotting obsession that had broken through his clean, polite exterior.

Arthur cleared his throat, pulling his eyes away from Kian’s terrifying smile. "There is another matter we need to discuss."

Kian didn’t look at him, still staring at the wall. "What?"

"The laboratory testing the eye drops," Arthur said smoothly. "There was an incident this morning. A power failure destroyed the primary testing board."

Kian’s head snapped toward him, his focus returning instantly. "What happened?"

"An equipment failure," Arthur said, his tone perfectly flat, leaving no room for questions.

"The final report has been delayed by at least two weeks. Which means Niko won’t have the chemical breakdown ready for Monday’s hearing. They won’t be able to introduce the drops into evidence."

Kian stared at him, then let out a slow, dark breath. The tension in his shoulders melted away, replaced by a cold, sharp satisfaction.

"Two weeks," Kian repeated. "Good."

"It’s a reprieve, Kian, not a solution," Arthur warned, his voice hardening. "The sample itself was not destroyed. It’s sitting in a secured vault under chain of custody. When the machine is fixed, the test will happen."

Kian stood up, buttoning his jacket with steady, slow fingers. The wildness in his face had settled into something far more dangerous... a quiet, burning confidence.

"Leave the eye drops to me," Kian said softly.

Arthur’s eyes narrowed. He leaned over the desk, his voice sharp as a razor.

"Kian. Listen to me very carefully. If you try to touch that laboratory, if you try to steal that sample or pay off a lab technician to lose it, Aaron Kazarov will tear this city apart until he finds the string leading back to you. He is already looking for a reason to put a bullet in your head. Do not give him one."

Kian looked down at his lawyer, his blue eyes cold, empty of any fear.

"You worry about the court, Arthur," Kian said, turning toward the heavy oak doors.

"Worry about how you’re going to get my wife back in front of a judge. I’ll worry about the evidence."

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