Light speared his brain and his head pounded like someone was using a jackhammer inside it. But he was awake and he knew what he had to do. If he wanted Brandi in his life, then he had to be prepared to give up The Mayfield Group.

It sounded extreme, but he had thought it through and it made a lot of sense to him - and not just the type of sense that came at the bottom of a whiskey bottle. It wasn’t his business that was the problem, it was his emotional ties to it. That insight had come to him in the middle of the night. It wasn’t that Brandi was opposed to him having his business or even finding a solution to keeping the business and still being with her. She had a problem with the lengths he was prepared to go to, to keep his business. She had been right. He was leveraging his unborn child in order to get what he wanted. What kind of father did that? Oh, that’s right. His own father did that sort of thing all the time. Declan did not want to be that kind of father and so he had come to a decision at two a.m. He would give up The Mayfield Group and walk away from his shitty and dysfunctional family in order to start a new family and a new life with Brandi.

It wasn’t like he couldn’t start a new business and he wouldn’t even need a sketchy loan to do it. He was independently wealthy - his current employment had guaranteed that - and then there was his trust fund that his grandfather had set up. His parents had no power over that. Yes, he loved The Mayfield Group and what he had built with it, but he loved Brandi more and if he couldn’t have both, then he wanted her.

Instead of the realisation striking panic into his heart, it had actually calmed him. He’d crawled into bed and slept like the dead. The first decent sleep he’d had since Brandi had walked out of his life. The only thing left to do was tell his father. They’d had a meeting set for today anyway. His father had wanted a follow-up after their last tête-à-tête. Mother obviously hadn’t told Father that a six month grace period had been negotiated. Not that it mattered now.

He dressed carefully and swallowed down a couple of ibuprofen to combat the raging ache in his head. He was nervous, but more in an excited way. He felt like he was stepping into something new and the anticipation of what that could mean burned through him with a sizzle that he hadn’t experienced since he started The Mayfield Group. He knew he was doing the right thing and it made him step lighter and stand straighter.

The drive to his father’s office was a blur, but thankfully he wasn’t the one driving. He mind was galloping ahead, looking at all the opportunities that were now laid out before him. He could literally reinvent his life without the shackles of his family. He would be free of them and their demands and he could choose his own destiny. It made him lightheaded to think about it.

“Declan,” his father said as he beckoned him into the office.

Declan stepped across the threshold and looked at the office with fresh eyes. It was the type of room designed to intimidate. Photographs lined the walls, but they weren’t family portraits or even landscapes. They featured his father with prominent Australian and international businessmen and women, even a few politicians. One wall was devoted to a heavy wooden bookcase that was filled with leather-bound texts. It had always dazzled Declan, that his father had so much knowledge at his fingertips, that he had so much power. He turned to look at the man in question. His father had taken his seat behind his massive mahogany desk in his high backed leather chair - a king on his throne.

“I hope you’ve had a chance to think through what we discussed,” his father said.

Declan smiled as he sat in the chair opposite the desk. It was lower, designed that way to give his father yet another psychological advantage.

“I have,” Declan said.

“Good,” his father said with a gruffness that was meant to dismiss Declan.

“I have decided to marry Brandi.”

His father stilled. It was an inhuman stillness and not for the first time Declan entertained the thought that his father was a vampire, only he fed on the pain and tears of his victims rather than blood.

“Excuse me?”

Declan stood. “You heard me. I’m going to marry Brandi. I don’t care if you take The Mayfield Group. You can have it. I am so tired of being controlled by you and Mother that I no longer want any part of your manipulations. You think that you can keep me in line by threatening to take my company, fine. You can have it. I don’t care. I am in love with Brandi and I intend to marry her.”

Declan didn’t think he had ever seen his father speechless before. Oh, his father liked to play the silent role - he once admitted that he gleaned a lot more when he just sat and listened rather than speak up - but this was completely different. The man wasn’t trying to find out more information by being silent, he literally didn’t have words. It was a powerful feeling to Declan, having reduced a man he had revered for so long into a bumbling idiot. It took some of the shine off the man, made him more human. Declan no longer saw a titan, but a bitter old man who had to use manipulations and machinations to keep his family close.

“Shall I have my lawyer draw up the papers?”

“Your mother won’t be happy—”

“I actually don’t give a fuck what Mother thinks,” Declan said. “The two of you have been controlling my life for far too long and you know what? I’m done. I don’t care if I never see you or Mother again. Now, about the lawyers?”

Declan’s father looked at him like he was an extraterrestrial and he had to smother a laugh. It felt fucking amazing to be free of the chains that had kept him bound for so long. He’d had the key all along and he hadn’t even known it. His chest expanded with a deep breath and the tight, achy feeling that had been restricting his torso for weeks now, disappeared. Now he just had to convince Brandi to forgive him and let him back in her life.

Brandi dragged herself into the bridal shop where everyone else was already waiting. Hunter had organised to fly Bailey’s mum down from Queensland to spend the weekend with them as they tried on dresses and discussed all things wedding. It was a special weekend for Bailey and Brandi really wanted to be a part of it except she actually really wanted to be in bed and hiding under the covers where she didn’t have to socialise with anyone.

The morning sickness was only getting worse and despite her doctor telling her it was perfectly normal, Brandi was beginning to wonder whether the baby inside her was some strange alien sent to take over her body. Just this morning as she had been kneeling on the floor in her bathroom leaning her head against the cool porcelain of the toilet bowl she’d had had stern words with the parasite she was carrying.

“Please, please, please,” she’d said out loud, “please be good today. Mummy needs to get through this dress fitting without barfing all over the dress and or dressmakers.”

So far the little shit - ahem, wonderful miracle child - hadn’t listened to her. Her breakfast of dry toast with the barest scraping of Vegemite hadn’t lasted longer than it had taken for it to reach her stomach. Even the ginger tea she’d tried to sip which was supposed to calm her stomach hadn’t stayed down. With so little fuel in her body, Brandi had no idea how she was going to last the day.

It wouldn’t be so bad if the morning sickness just stuck to the mornings. If by lunchtime it had vanished into thin air then maybe she could cope, but the nausea lasted all day and most days she could barely keep anything down. The doctor assured her that the baby would utilise her body to get all the nutrients it needed, but Brandi was worried that she wasn’t getting what she needed. Her clothes were starting to hang off her thinning frame and although she wouldn’t exactly call herself emaciated, she had definitely lost weight that she didn’t need to lose.

“You’re here!” Bailey cried as she spotted Brandi.

Brandi smiled and tried to force all thoughts of nausea from her mind. She was getting really good at compartmentalising; she had to, or she would be a fucked up mess on the floor. She may have been the one to walk away from Declan, but that didn’t mean it made the walking away any easier. Far too many times over the last few days she had nearly buckled under the weight of missing him. She had even gone so far as to pick up her phone and bring up his number wanting more than anything to call him. But she had resisted because she respected herself too much to go grovelling after someone who didn’t care about her the same way she cared about him.

“I’m here,” she said as brightly as she could and gave Bailey a hug.

The other girls waved at her and Peyton gave her a questioning glance. She was the only one in the group who knew just how sick she had been and why she was sick. Brandi had had to get Peyton to fill in for her at the hospital and at a couple of the parties she’d had booked because Brandi was just too sick to do them. That meant she’d had to confide in her the reason why and although she hadn’t named Declan specifically, Peyton knew they’d been practically living together so it wasn’t much of a leap to realise who the father was.

One of the bridal shop attendants offered her a tray of champagne but she waved it away. Thankfully no one raised an eyebrow or even took notice except maybe Abby who looked at her curiously. Declan had obviously told Mason about the situation, it was what she’d overheard them discussing on that fateful night, but did that mean that Mason had also confided in Abby? It was possible but by the looks of things she hadn’t told anyone else. Thank god. The last thing she needed right now was a million and one questions about her and Declan and what the future looked like with a baby on the way. Besides, she didn’t want to spoil Bailey’s fun and steal her thunder. Her pregnancy wouldn’t impact the wedding whatsoever; she wouldn’t even be showing by the time the wedding came around.

“Okay ladies,” Bailey said clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Who wants to go first?”

Brandi put her hand up. “I will,” she said. She hadn’t yet sat down and everyone else had a glass of bubbly and looked to be seated comfortably in the overstuffed sofa that took up a generous part of the floor space.

The dressmaker ushered her into the change room. Brandi slowly undressed and then pulled the emerald green bridesmaid dress over her head. The dressmaker came in to check the fit and made a tsk tsk sound as she pulled at the seams.

“You’ve lost weight,” she said.

“I’ve had a stomach bug,” Brandi replied. “But don’t bother taking in any of the seams, I’m sure I’ll be back to my usual size in no time.”

“Come on out and have a look in the big mirror,” the other woman said.

Brandi followed her out to where the rest of the bridal party waited and held the dressmakers hand as she helped her up onto the raised platform in front of the mirror. The women seated on the sofa fell silent as they looked at her and it wasn’t a good silence. Brandi turned to look at herself in the mirror and realised what had everyone so dumbstruck. She looked awful. The colour, which would normally look fine on her, made her look washed out and sallow. The dress pulled tight over her bust - the only part of her where she hadn’t lost weight - and then fell in an unshapely manner making it look like a particularly unflattering sack.

“Fuck,” she whispered under her breath. She had been living in sweat pants and leggings with oversized t-shirts for the better part of two weeks and she hadn’t noticed just how much weight she’d lost.

Brandi couldn’t bear to look at Bailey. She knew what she would find - disappointment. The last thing Brandi wanted was to ruin this day for the bride-to-be but it seemed she had done just that. She turned to step down from the dais but her lack of food, low blood sugar and possibly low blood pressure gave her a moment of vertigo and her knees buckled as her vision went dark. She felt her head hit the corner of the raised platform and then everything went blank.

Declan walked out of his father’s office building feeling powerful. He had built a billion dollar, international business out of renovating one hotel and yet he had never felt as powerful as he did right in that moment. Until he had stood up to his father and called him on his bullshit, Declan had always felt like an imposter. Even though he had worked hard to build his business independently of his family, he could never escape his last name and he had always wondered, in the back of his mind, how much of his success was because of his familial ties? But now those ties were cut. Within a couple of months The Mayfield Group would become a part of MSL and he would be a free agent, as it were. The opportunity for Declan to start again with only his own reputation behind him was liberating. He was finally the master of his own life and it felt great.

The only thing that would feel better would be having Brandi by his side. He hadn’t quite worked out how he was going to tell her everything that had happened. She had seemed pretty adamant that she never wanted to speak to him again, but that wasn’t acceptable. She needed to know how he really felt about her and the lengths he was prepared to go to for her forgiveness. He was not above publicly debasing himself if that’s what it took.

Declan’s phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out. He frowned with puzzlement as Abby’s number flashed on his screen. He tapped the answer button and lifted it to his ear.

“Abby?”

“Oh thank god, Declan,” she said and he was alarmed at the sound of her voice.

“What is it? Is everything okay? Did something happen to Mason?”

“No, not Mason. Brandi.”

“Brandi? What?”

“There was a dress fitting today for the bridal party,” she said breathlessly, “and even though I’m not a bridesmaid I was there to, you know, help out or whatever. And Brandi was there and god, she’s so thin! I know she hasn’t been coping with the pregnancy and the morning sickness and everything but I hadn’t realised just how bad it had been—”

“Abby!” Declan cut in sharply. “Would you stop babbling and please tell me what the hell is going on?”

“Yeah, sorry, it’s just that I’m worried and nervous and anxious…” she took a breath and Declan wanted to reach through the phone and strangle her. “Okay. Brandi fainted.”

He breathed a sigh of relief which nearly choked him when she went on.

“And hit her head and there was blood and she passed out and the ambulance came and they’ve taken her to hospital.”

“The baby,” he whispered.

“I know. I told the paramedics that she was pregnant. Sorry, I didn’t mean to do it in front of everyone but I thought it was something they needed to know before they gave her something that —“

“Which hospital?”

“Huh?”

“Which hospital did they take her too?”

Declan barely heard the rest of the conversation after Abby named the hospital. He slid into the back of the car that was waiting for him outside his father’s office and gave the address to the driver, urging him to hurry.