Chapter 35
SABINE
Sabine sat on the edge of her office couch, knees slightly apart, elbows pressed to them while she wiped at her face with a tissue. The signed contract was already scanned and uploaded by her assistant. Outside her door, she could hear faint laughter and celebration.
The meeting was done.
And she did that.
This baby wasn’t even here yet, and already, Sabine felt like she’d brought something new into the world. Not just Aderra.
But herself.
Tears slipped again, and she let them. She wasn’t even trying to truly stop it. These weren’t the heavy kind, the ones that came from grief, like when Ariyah died, or betrayal, like when she finally heard the truth. These were the good ones.
And she was trying to trust that.
That they were good and she could have…good.
Her body still remembered pain better than joy. She was trying, though. To unlearn that. She sniffed and stood slowly, going to her en suite bathroom to collect herself, grateful for the space to breathe—grateful she’d built a workplace that had room for softness, not just strength.
From the window, she could still see the edge of the conference room. Harlan was standing now, arm resting casually against one of the chairs, grinning mid-sentence and across from him—Adair.
Talking.
Sabine blinked, genuinely surprised. Adair had his hand in his pocket, and his body language was calm, aloof but not hostile.
She couldn’t hear them, but the energy looked.
..tolerable. That was progress because two weeks ago, she would’ve bet money he’d flip a chair over just for hearing Harlan say her name.
But now?
He knew.
He knew the only reason Harlan was even in the picture was because he, Adair Dayne, had fumbled the hell out of her. She could be defensive of Corrine but he had no right when it came to Harlan. However, the timeline might have started from pain, but anything that happened after today? That day?
That was present tense and Adair didn’t play about his present tense. She knew he’d charge the past to the game but if Harlan ever crossed the line going forward…
Sabine didn’t doubt for a second that Adair would fuck him up. Her lips curved faintly at the thought because somehow that was both aggravating and comforting. She didn’t want to be a prize they fought over but it did feel good, knowing someone loved you that loud.
A knock came at the door.
Sabine straightened a little. “Give me one sec,” she called, rinsing her hands quickly and patting them dry before stepping back into her office. She expected Narri. Or maybe one of the interns to ask if she wanted a plate brought in.
She did not expect Corrine.
Sabine’s steps slowed.
Corrine stood in the doorway, hair still perfect, tablet clutched to her chest like a shield of some sort. Sabine didn’t say anything at first. She just looked at her. Let herself see the woman.
Not just the threat she used to be.
But the reality.
Corrine looked…composed. Calm. Not smug but not regretful either.
Sabine took a small step forward, but didn’t invite her in. “Corrine.” Her voice was even. “Can I help you with something?”
She didn’t offer a seat.
Didn’t soften even a little.
Corrine shifted slightly offering a tight smile, polite on the surface, but Sabine didn’t miss the way her eyes dragged across the office, cataloging the details. She couldn’t stand people like this. People who wronged but still felt as if they had the right.
“I didn’t want to leave without saying congratulations,” Corrine said smoothly. “That was…impressive. The way you walked that room through every clause like you wrote the contract yourself.”
“I did.” Sabine gave a soft blink.
Corrine faltered a breath, then smiled again like it didn’t sting. “Of course. I just meant…it’s not always the case. Founders aren’t always that hands-on.”
“I am.” Sabine didn’t return the smile.
There was a brief pause. Not long. Just enough for Corrine to read the temperature and decide how much heat she could handle.
“I know it probably wasn’t easy, working with…all parties involved,” she continued, stepping one inch into the office without waiting for an invite. “But I think we both handled it with grace. I certainly did my best to keep everything above board.”
“Above board?” Sabine raised an eyebrow.
“Professional,” Corrine’s lip twitched. “I mean. No drama.”
“You sure about that?”
“We’ve all made mistakes, Sabine. I’m sure even you have a few. But clearly, you came out on top.” Her gaze flicked, briefly, to Sabine’s midsection. “In more ways than one.”
Sabine stood still, posture regal. Calm but her silence wasn’t passive. It was reserve. Only reserve because she was at her place of work.
Corrine kept going.
“I just wanted to acknowledge that,” she said, brushing a nonexistent wrinkle from her sleeve. “And I think it’s clear he’s…invested. Whatever’s going on between you two—” she shrugged like it wasn’t a grenade she’d just dropped, “—well, I hope it works out this time.”
There it was.
That same saccharine tone Sabine remembered from all those late nights when Corrine’s name first started ringing in her head. Kindness with a knife tucked inside. Sabine tilted her head slightly, her smile slow. Not wide. Just enough to show her teeth.
“It will.” She said it calmly, no emphasis.
Just fact. She let the air settle before stepping closer.
Close enough for Corrine to lose her footing behind that practiced neutrality.
Close enough for every word to cut exactly where it should.
“And you’re right, we’ve all made mistakes.
Yours was thinking you could win by snaking into a marriage you were never invited to.
As if taking what was broken made it yours. As if he was ever going to stay.”
Corrine stiffened, but Sabine wasn’t done.
“Even if he had chosen you,” Sabine said, voice cool and flat, “it would’ve rotted in your hands. Because things built on betrayal don’t bloom, they decay. Fast.” She let the pause hang just long enough before adding, quieter but deadly: “fast as that rank pussy you thought could keep him.”
Corrine’s face twitched.
“I didn’t even blame you for his fuck-ups because at the end of the day, he owed me loyalty, not some desperate-ass bitch who can’t find a man of her own.
” Sabine tilted her head. “But walking into my space thinking you could nice-nasty me with your half-ass congratulations? Baby, no.” Her voice dropped lower…
firmer. “Don’t let this office, this suit, or this million-dollar company I’ve built fool you, hoe.
If I wasn’t pregnant, I’d beat the brakes off your ignorant, no-class-having ass.
” She stepped closer, heat rising. “Now get the fuck away from my office before I forget my very bright future and slide your raggedy ass across this floor, bitch.”
In the deepest part of her soul, Sabine wanted to strangle her.
Just for a second. Just enough to feel Corrine’s smug little smirk disappear beneath her fingers.
But that wasn’t who she was. It had never been and it would only become who she was if Corrine ever gave her a reason that crossed the line she couldn’t uncross.
Right now? Nothing—nothing—was worth risking her future.
Not her peace. Not her company and damn sure not her unborn child.
Corrine wasn’t a threat. She was pitiful.
She even looked pitiful—trying to posture with her tablet and tight-ass dress, hoping her fake grace would mask the emptiness underneath.
Sabine had never been in a fight in her life, and while she was sure she could take her, she wasn’t about to waste her first time on obvious misery looking for company.
Corrine’s lips parted like she had something smart to say but she never got the chance because Narri was already walking up.
“Please understand,” she said, voice calm but venom-laced, “that she’s pregnant and gives a fuck.
” She took one slow step even closer. “I don’t, hoe.
So give me a muthafuckin’ reason. I promise I will guard my baby and destroy your ass at the same time. ”
Corrine’s face paled just enough to satisfy something deep in Sabine’s chest, but she reached out anyway, hand on her best friend’s forearm.
Narri looked at her, nostrils flared, then back up at Corrine. “You lucky,” she muttered, shrugging off the tension like it cost too much energy. “But I’m not the one to test when it comes to this one right here,” she pointed to Sabine. “Ever.”
Corrine’s jaw locked, but she said nothing as she backed away—slow and cautious.
She didn’t even have the nerve to turn her back, not until she was at a safe distance because even she could see it now.
Sabine wasn’t bluffing. She was glowing, powerful, pregnant and completely done playing.
Corrine might’ve thought herself bold, but she wasn’t stupid and a woman willing to throw hands while carrying a child?
That was past crazy, and she knew she couldn’t battle win that.
Turning to Sabine, Narri narrowed her eyes, arms already crossing tight over her chest. “You gon’ tell that raggedy heifer you pregnant before your own best friend, hoe?”
“I was gonna tell you tonight, swearsies.” Sabine gave her a small guilty smile playing at her lips.
“Mhm.” Narri rolled her eyes with attitude, but her excitement couldn’t hold still.
She bounced on her toes like she couldn’t keep the joy in, then squealed and rushed forward.
“Congratulations!” She grabbed Sabine’s face and peppered kisses all over her cheeks then landed one smack dab on the lips.
“Alright now wit the gay shit,” Adair called from the doorway, stepping in just in time to peel them apart before it could turn French. “We not doin’ all that.”
Sabine laughed as Narri pulled back, giggling and unbothered. “Boy, please. You already know what it is with me and this one. I had her before you was even in the picture.”
“Exactly why I’m shutting it down,” he muttered, shooting Narri a look. “Y’all not about to reactivate anything while you emotional and she hormonal.”
“Whatever, hater.” Narri blew him a kiss. “I’m her first love.”
Adair didn’t even argue. Instead, he looked over at Sabine, really looked at her.
The glow in her cheeks, the shine in her eyes, the way her laughter lived back in her now.
Damn, he loved her. Still. Always. He leaned in, cupped the side of her face, and pressed a soft, sure kiss to her lips, unbothered by Narri standing right there.
Then, against her mouth, he said low, “Well, I’m her last.”
“Ugh,” Narri groaned dramatically. “I’m leavin’.”
Sabine grinned against his lips and whispered, “You better be.”