Chapter 24

Angela POV

"You seem different today," Sophie observed, studying me over her untouched cappuccino. "More... settled."

I smiled, surprising myself with how genuine it felt. "I've made my decision."

"About the baby?" Sophie leaned forward, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity.

"I'm keeping it. Whatever happens with Sean, this child is mine."

Sophie's eyes lit up. "Have you thought about names yet?"

"It's too early for that," I laughed, "I need to focus on practical matters first."

"Like where you'll live? You can't stay in that penthouse forever, watching Christina circle like a shark."

"I've been looking at properties in different neighborhoods. Maybe Boston or Chicago. A fresh start, away from Wall Street's gossip mill."

"Or you could join your father," Sophie suggested. "Alexander would love having you - and his grandchild - close by."

The mention of my father brought a flood of memories, taking me back to that day two years ago when everything changed.

Flashback

Two Years Ago Wilson Family Townhouse, Greenwich Village

A crowd of creditors had gathered at our house, their angry voices filling the hallways.

"The Monets are family treasures," my father's voice carried from the library, strained but dignified. "They're not part of the bank's assets-"

A crash, followed by the sound of breaking glass. I pushed through the crowd to find my father on the floor, blood trickling from a cut on his forehead where he'd apparently hit the corner of his desk.

"Dad!" I rushed to his side, my phone already out to call an ambulance. But in the chaos, someone knocked it from my hand, the screen shattering against the hardwood floors.

"The Wilsons are finished!" Someone in the crowd shouted. "Where's our money?"

"That's enough." The voice cut through the chaos like a knife through butter. Christina Jordan stood in the doorway, two private security teams flanking her. "Everyone out. Now."

The crowd hesitated, but Christina's next words carried the weight of old money and serious legal threats. "The Jordan family's lawyers will be very interested in any damage done to personal property today."

As the security teams cleared the house, Christina knelt beside us, her medical training evident in the way she examined my father's wound. "He needs stitches. I've already called for a private ambulance."

"We don't need your help," my father managed, trying to stand.

"Dad, please." I squeezed his hand. "Let them help. For your health, if nothing else."

Christina's smile held just a touch of satisfaction. "Of course I'll help. After all, Sean would want me to take care of his... business partner's family."

Present Day Bluestone Lane

"Earth to Angela?" Sophie waved her hand in front of my face. "Where did you go just now?"

I blinked, the memory fading. "Just thinking about how much has changed. Two years ago, I thought accepting Christina's help was the only option."

"She played it perfectly," Sophie's voice held barely contained anger. "Swooping in like some avenging angel, making sure everyone knew the Wilsons only survived because of her generosity."

"Dad saw through it immediately." I smiled, remembering his quiet dignity in the ambulance. "He told me not to let gratitude cloud my judgment. That some debts come with too high a price."

"Smart man." Sophie signaled for the check. "Speaking of which, I've been looking at properties too. There's a lovely pre-war building in Boston's Back Bay..."

"Sophie Parker, are you trying to become my real estate agent?"

"I'm trying to be your baby's godmother," she corrected with a grin. "Someone needs to make sure this little one grows up with proper style."

For the first time in weeks, I felt truly light. The path ahead wasn't clear, but at least I knew which direction I was heading.

"First things first," I said, pulling up my calendar. "I need to schedule proper prenatal care, away from the usual Upper East Side practices. The last thing I need is running into Elizabeth's society friends at doctor's appointments."

"Leave that to me." Sophie was already typing furiously on her phone. "I know a brilliant OB-GYN in Greenwich - totally discrete, zero connection to the Shaw social circle."

I watched my best friend's enthusiastic planning with a mixture of amusement and gratitude. The Wilson name might have lost its financial power, but some bonds were worth more than any bank account.

"We sold the townhouse in the end," I said quietly, the memory still bittersweet. "Dad refused to mortgage it for a new venture. Said he'd rather start fresh than risk another collapse."

"You never told Sean about that, did you?" Sophie's voice was gentle. "About selling your childhood home?"

"What would have been the point?" I stirred my cooling tea.

Sophie's expression turned serious. "And now? With the baby?"

"Now..." I touched my stomach, feeling stronger than I had in weeks. "Now I make my own path. Just like Dad did. Without Shaw money, without Jordan 'charity', without compromising what matters most."

"And what matters most?"

I remembered my father telling me after we went bankrupt ,"Never let them make you feel small, princess. Wilson blood runs deeper than Wall Street's billions."

"Dignity," I said finally. "The kind money can't buy and status can't grant. That's what I want to give this child."

Sophie reached across the table, her fingers closing over mine.

"Then that's exactly what we'll do."