---- Chapter 2 Crawford Pierce POV: The words left my mouth before | could stop them. Of course, they did. The baby was the priority. It was the solution. For months, my father had been breathing down my neck about the succession plan for Pierce Industries. "You need a win, Crawford," he' d say over his morning coffee, the newspaper folded neatly beside his plate. "Not just a win. A legacy-defining move. Something that proves you have the foresight to lead us into the next century." The merger with Rodgers Corp was that move. Althea' s project, "Project Chimera," was the key. It was brilliant, a revolutionary integration of logistics and Al that would streamline our global operations and save billions. It was also my ticket. My crowning achievement as heir apparent. Althea was the architect, but | would be the king who built the empire on her blueprints. Our engagement was a part of the package. A union of talent and legacy. It was clean, strategic. | respected Althea. Her mind was a magnificent, terrifying thing. She saw angles no one else did. But passion? That wasn't in our contract. Our relationship was built on mutual ambition, a shared language of balance sheets and five-year plans. ---- Then came Brittany. She was everything Althea wasn't. Spontaneous, effervescent, emotionally available. She didn't talk about market caps or synergy; she talked about how | made her feel. She looked at me not as a business partner, but as a man. It was intoxicating. A relief. Our affair started carelessly, a drunken kiss at a charity gala that spiraled into clandestine meetings in hotel suites. It was a mistake, | told myself. A temporary deviation. But it felt more real than my perfectly curated life with Althea. When Brittany told me she was pregnant, my world didn't fall apart. It clicked into place. The merger, the legacy, the heir-it was all there. A child with Brittany, Hale Rodgers' favored daughter, would bind the two companies together more tightly than any contract. It was a faster, more decisive victory. It was ruthless, but legacy is built on ruthless decisions. Althea' s accident was a complication. A messy, unfortunate piece of timing. | felt a pang of something-guilt, maybe-seeing her lying in that hospital bed, pale and broken. She was a brilliant partner. She didn't deserve this. But the choice had already been made. Hale clapped me on the shoulder, a gesture of male solidarity. "Crawford. A difficult situation." "We'll manage it," | said, my voice firm. | looked at Brittany, ---- who was now gazing at me with wide, adoring eyes. She was my future. The mother of my heir. | finally turned to Althea. Her eyes were open, clear and unnervingly calm. There was no hysteria, no tears, none of the messy emotion | had braced myself for. There was just. stillness. A profound, unsettling quiet. "Althea," | began, my voice softer, the way one speaks to a wounded animal. "I know this is a shock. And | am truly sorry for the way you're finding this out. But what Brittany and | have... it' s real. And this baby changes everything." | expected her to lash out, to call me a monster. To throw the engagement ring at my head. | was prepared for the drama Instead, she just watched me, her gaze analytical, as if | were a line of code she was debugging. It was the same look she got right before she eviscerated an opponent's strategy in the boardroom. "The project," she said, her voice raspy but steady. "Project Chimera. Brittany presented it to the board this morning, didn't she?" | froze. How could she possibly know that? The accident happened yesterday evening. The board meeting was at 8 a.m. today. She' d been unconscious. Brittany flinched beside me. "Althea, |-" "She found my backup drive," Althea continued, her eyes never ---- leaving mine. "The one | keep in my home office. She took it after the accident. She pitched it as her own idea, with a few superficial tweaks to make it look original." My silence was my confession. It was exactly what had happened. Brittany had come to me last night, frantic after the news of the crash. She' d had the drive. "It's our chance, Crawford," she' d said, her eyes gleaming with a desperate ambition |' d never seen before. "We can secure everything, right now." It was a bold, predatory move. | admired it. "It was a superior proposal," | said, recovering my composure. "Brittany identified key market vulnerabilities your initial plan overlooked." It was a lie. Her presentation was a clumsy, plagiarized version of Althea' s genius, but the board, swayed by Hale' s influence and the news of a forthcoming heir, had approved it unanimously. Althea gave a small, humorless smile. It didn't reach her eyes. "I see." She slowly, deliberately, pulled the diamond ring from her finger. It was a five-carat stone from a legacy jeweler, a symbol of the Pierce dynasty. She didn't throw it. She held it out to me in her open palm. "Then | believe this belongs to you," she said, her voice devoid of any emotion. "And so does the project. And so does she." The calm was more terrifying than any rage. It felt like she wasn't conceding defeat. It felt like she was letting go of a dead weight. ---- "My lawyers will be in touch," she added, her gaze shifting to the window as if we were no longer in the room. "I'm officially divesting from the Rodgers-Pierce merger. I'll be starting my own venture." Hale scoffed. "With what? Althea, be reasonable. You have nothing." Her eyes drifted back to him, and for the first time, | saw a flicker of something dangerous. "You'd be surprised what | have." She turned her head on the pillow, facing away from us, a clear dismissal. The conversation was over. As we walked out, Brittany curled into my side, a triumphant smile finally breaking through her tear-stained facade. "It's for the best," she whispered. "She'll see that." | nodded, but an uneasy feeling settled in my stomach. This was too easy. The Althea | knew would have fought to the bitter end. This quiet, decisive stranger in the hospital bed unnerved me. It felt less like we had won and more like we had just walked into a trap she had set for us. A news alert buzzed on my phone. A business headline. "PAGE CORP STOCK PLUMMETS ON RUMORS OF FAILED R& D. ESSEX PAGE CALLED "THE LAST DINOSAUR OF SILICON VALLEY." | glanced at it and dismissed it. Page Corp was a joke, a relic ---- from a bygone era. Essex Page was a nobody. Utterly irrelevant. | put my arm around Brittany and guided her out of the hospital, leaving Althea, and my nagging sense of dread, behind. Title: A Princess? No! I'm the Female General! In "A Princess? No! 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