CHAPTER 277: CHAPTER 277: BETWEEN MY SON AND MY SOUL

~Zayn’s POV~

Meera savored the moment, leaning back in her chair.

"One: Break up with Evric."

"What?" I shouted, scrambling backward as if she’d struck me. "Meera, no! That’s not a choice!"

She didn’t react to my denial, moving immediately to her second point.

"Two: Sleep with me. Tonight. A final night. To confirm what you’re truly throwing away. You give me this one night, and then you can go back to your boyfriend, and I will give you access to your son."

I shook my head violently, the shock wearing off and the fury returning. "Meera, no! I can’t do any of this! That’s emotional blackmail! You can’t ask me to choose between my love and my child! This is disgusting. Can you please—"

I stopped, seeing the resolved look in her eye. She was serious. This was her final, terrible, and utterly cruel power play. I had the DNA results, but she still held the child. My heart was pounding a painful rhythm of love, guilt, and absolute moral outrage. The clock was ticking toward my meeting with Evric, and Meera was demanding I betray him before I even saw him.

"Cross breaking up with Evric off the list," I said through gritted teeth, making it clear it wasn’t negotiable.

Meera smiled, a cold, predatory curve of her lips. "Are you saying you choose to sleep with me?"

"I can’t sleep with you! I don’t even know..." I trailed off, the reality of my loyalty to Evric crashing over me. I tried to find a way out, scrambling for an excuse. "I don’t even know if I can still do it, Meera."

She leaned closer, her eyes gleaming. "You don’t have to know," she purred. "I can teach you again."

"Meera, please, I can’t do it! My boyfriend will be so hurt if I cheat on him. Please, you can’t ask this of me."

Meera didn’t care. She was completely unmoved by my anguish. In a last-ditch effort, I threatened her. "I have the paternity test now. I will go to a lawyer and sue you for parental rights. I will bring the law into this, Meera, and you will lose everything!

She laughed, a sharp, unpleasant sound. "Go ahead. Bring it on. But until a court order forces me to, you won’t get to meet your son. You won’t know his name, and you won’t see his face. We both know the law moves slower than a snail."

The air went out of me. I sat on the floor, softly begging her, pleading with her for hours, promising her anything she wanted money, support, attention, but she stood her ground, saying no. She only repeated the two options.

Time dissolved into a blur of helplessness and frustration.

At last, just as the final light faded from the sky, Meera glanced at the clock and smiled. "I’m ready to take you to see your son. And this time, I already went inside to dress up, to meet Evric."

I checked the time. It was nearly 9:00 p.m. I had less than three hours left.

"I have been begging you since morning, and you refused," I said, my voice thick with exhaustion. "Why now?"

"Because this is the time I am ready," she shrugged, standing up. "Are you ready to meet him?"

"We should do that tomorrow," I said quickly. "I had somewhere important to be tonight. We can meet him first thing in the morning."

Meera’s eyes narrowed. "Is that place important than your son?"

"Stop it, Meera! Stop conversing like that!" I warned, the cold anger returning. I refused to let her weaponize my child against Evric.

I ignored her, walking toward the front door. I put my hand on the doorknob and twisted. It didn’t budge.

The door was locked.

I whirled around. "Why is the door locked, Meera?"

She held up a small, shiny key, dangling it lazily. "Because I’m not allowing you to step outside."

"Meera, open this door now, and don’t get me angry," I warned, taking a threatening step toward her.

What followed was a brutal, drawn-out battle of wills. Meera was deliberately provoking me, trying to push me to the breaking point, hoping I would lash out and assault her so she could claim self-defense and solidify her victim status. But I held onto my patience, knowing that losing my temper meant losing everything. The minutes stretched agonizingly—9:30 p.m., 10:00 p.m.... 10:36 p.m. I knew the drive to the hotel would take at least forty-five minutes, likely an hour with traffic. I was going to be late.

Finally, the fear of losing Evric, coupled with the sheer frustration, snapped my control.

"I will count to three," I thundered, my voice ricocheting off the walls. "If you don’t open this door, you will regret it. You know exactly what I’m capable of, Meera. Don’t push me."

At "three," Meera’s resolve finally broke. She rushed to the door, unlocking it quickly. She stepped back, her eyes wide, and spat out her final warning. "If you step out that door, Zayn, you should forever forget about me and your son."

I opened the door, the cool night air hitting my face like a reprieve. "So be it." I stepped out, not looking back.

"You are a bad father, Zayn!" Meera screamed. Her voice followed me down the hallway, crying, screaming, a torrent of desperate, hateful noise.

I stumbled into my car and slammed the door, shutting out the last of her voice. I drove a short distance from the house, pulled over, and broke. The tears came hard, shaking through me under the crushing weight of the choice she had cornered me into.

After several long minutes, I wiped my face with trembling hands, drew in a rough, steadying breath, and turned the car toward the hotel.

By the time I reached the opulent reception desk, the clock on the wall read 12:11 a.m. I was minutes late. The lobby was hushed, lit by soft gold sconces. Mr. Kael, was waiting discreetly near the elevator bank.

He approached me without hesitation, a small, knowing smile playing at his lips. "Zayn," he said softly, handing me the key card. "He’s waiting for you."

Then, with a teasing glint in his eye, he added, "Remember— you don’t kiss and tell. Ever."

I smiled, muttering a quick thank you, and practically sprinted toward the nearest elevator. My heart pounded against my ribs, a wild mix of panic and fierce anticipation driving me upward.

I ran down the hallway, found the door, and swiped the card.

When I stepped in, it was like walking back in time. It was the same room, the expansive skyline view, the dark wood, the subtle scent of expensive cologne. The only difference was that this time, I knew exactly who I was coming to meet, and I was making a definitive choice, not stumbling blindly into my destiny.

The room was dimly lit, shadows playing across the sleek furniture. I saw Evric sitting on the edge of the low couch, turned toward the door, just as he had been the first night. He was immaculate, devastatingly handsome, and completely focused on me.

"Evric," I whispered, the name a prayer. My voice cracked. "I’m sorry for being... does it still count? I—"

Before I could finish the fragmented apology, Evric was on his feet. He closed the distance between us in three long strides, walking not toward me, but moving behind me, closing the door softly and silently, sealing us inside.

His arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling me flush against his solid chest. His chin rested on my shoulder, and his voice was a deep, warm rumble right against my ear.

"You’re here," he murmured, his breath brushing against my hair. "That’s all that matters."

His grip tightened, possessive and utterly reassuring. "Zayn, the last time you walked into this room, you were searching for something you couldn’t name. This time, you made your decision. You fought for your truth. You walked in knowing exactly who you are and who you want to be. You walk in as mine."

He turned me gently in his arms so I could face him, his hands resting on my waist. His eyes were dark, filled with an intensity that took my breath away.

"Now listen to me. I’ll touch you, claim you, and own you in every way you deserve. Because from this very moment, you are mine alone, and I’m never letting you go. No matter what happened today, no matter what shadows you left behind. We start fresh, right here."

He lifted one hand and gently brushed his knuckles along my cheek, his thumb catching the lingering tear track near my face.

"The last time I met you, I did not introduce myself." He leaned in, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that was both formal and incredibly intimate.

"Hello, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Evric Draeven."

The moment he said that, every ounce of composure I had shattered, and I burst into tears, unable to hold them back.