"Clara is pregnant, and it's my child. So, starting today, she will be living here. You don’t mind, do you?"
"Nah, I'm okay. It's up to you. This is your house, you can do whatever you want," I replied, a tight, artificial smile plastered across my face.
God, it hurts. It hurt so damn much to be the forced witness to their love story inside our shared home. But what else could I do?
My name is Sophie Elaine Lane. I am the only daughter and the sole heiress to The Lane Royal Hotel empire. My husband? Lucas William Hayes—a ruthless, billionaire tycoon who dominates multiple industries.
How did a girl like me end up with a man like him? An arranged marriage. My father forced my hand if I didn’t marry Lucas, I wouldn’t inherit the family business. On paper, Lucas was the perfect candidate—blessed with astronomical wealth and a face sculpted by the gods.
Mind you, I actually loved this arrangement. But he didn’t. I wasn't his choice. Not only was I forced upon him, but I was completely unloved. You can only imagine how utterly suffocating and miserable our marriage had been.
In our years of marriage, we never had children. Why? Because the very first night he touched me, his words were cold enough to freeze hell "I don’t want a child with you. I want my children to be born from the woman I actually love."
Those words were a dagger straight to my heart. It’s a special kind of agony knowing you will never be the first choice. His first choice was Clara Hyde an international supermodel. Beautiful, elegant, and utterly perfect in his eyes.
I had asked for a divorce multiple times. I didn't need this marriage anymore I had already fulfilled the criteria to inherit my family’s company. The papers were ready. But for some inexplicable reason, Lucas refused to sign them. He wouldn't let me go.
So, I remained. My friends told me to just pack my bags and vanish, saying a man like him wouldn't even notice I was gone. But a stupid, naive part of me stayed, hoping that maybe just maybe one day he would look at me and love me.
But today, with two words 'Clara’s pregnant' that final, fragile thread of hope snapped completely.
---
The days that followed were a living hell, tormented by their public displays of affection.
"Elaine, could you get me a glass of water from the kitchen? I'm just so exhausted... well, since I'm pregnant. You're not pregnant, so you must have the energy, right?" Clara asked, a smug, venomous smirk dancing on her lips.
I paused on the stairs, looking down at her. "You’ve been pregnant for barely a month, Clara. Stop acting like you're about to pop. Your stomach is still flat as a board. Get it yourself."
Clara’s face contorted in faux shock. "How rude! I was only asking for a simple favor. Look at her, baby... she won't even help me," she whined, instantly turning to Lucas, who was sitting right beside her. She practically glued herself to him at every given opportunity. It was sickening.
Lucas shifted his gaze to me. The soft, tender look he gave Clara vanished in a split second, replaced by a gaze so sharp and filled with hatred it could kill. It was the same look I had endured every single day of our marriage.
"Is it really that hard to help her, Elaine?" his voice cut through the air, dripping with disdain. "She's pregnant. The least you could do is show some consideration."
Oh, by the way, he always called me by my middle name. He once told me I wasn't important enough for him to use my first name. I didn't care both belonged to me anyway.
I let out a heavy, exhausted sigh. "If we're talking about consideration, why don't you be a gentleman and get it for her yourself? Since you're the one who got her pregnant, you should be the one serving her. I’m exhausted, and I’m going upstairs."
I rolled my eyes, completely ignoring his murderous glare. I used to be gentle, used to always back down and play the submissive, patient wife. But today? I was completely out of patience. My sacrifices and love were treated like dirt. If he didn't want to divorce me, fine! but I was done playing nice.
---
Inside my bedroom, I locked the door securely. The moment Lucas had the audacity to bring his mistress into this house, I had gathered every single duplicate key to this room. Why would he need to come in here anyway? He already had the woman of his dreams downstairs.
I tossed my designer bag onto the floor and collapsed onto the bed. I was drained after a long day at the office, and coming home to face those two monkeys downstairs was a massive energy drain.
I closed my eyes, desperately wanting to sleep, but the loud growl of my stomach ruined the plan. I realized I hadn't eaten anything since morning, and it was already 10:00 PM. Going downstairs to cook was out of the question—those two would definitely try to make me play maid again.
Reaching for my phone, I replied to a text from my best friend, Ethan Carter. A second later, my phone vibrated. Ethan was calling.
"Yo, you free right now? Let's grab some food. I'm waiting at our usual spot," Ethan’s voice echoed through the speaker.
It sounded like heaven. "I'm free. I'll come down now. Actually, let's hit Midnight Ember instead."
"Midnight Ember? The VIP club? Are you sure?" Ethan sounded surprised.
"Yes. I need to blow off some serious steam. Honestly, I don't care if I don't come home until tomorrow morning."
"Alright. I'll meet you there. See you later, babe," Ethan replied smoothly before hanging up.
I immediately got up to change. Searching through my closet, my eyes landed on a deep-V, backless bodycon mini dress. I had bought it a long time ago, foolishly intending to wear it for Lucas's birthday. But since he now had a woman willing to strip for him on command, the dress had been gathering dust. This was the perfect time to wear it.
I let my long, wavy hair fall freely over my shoulders and put on a pair of medium-sized black hoop earrings. After a quick touch-up, I swiped a coat of bold, crimson red lipstick across my lips.
Standing in front of the full-length mirror, I stared at my reflection. I was tall, and the dress hugged my curves in all the right places, accentuating a body I knew was stunning. This used to be my signature style before I married Lucas. After the wedding, I had toned myself down, dressing modestly just to please him. What a waste of time that was.
Grabbing my clutch, phone, and car keys, I made my way downstairs.
As I neared the living room, the faint, sickening sound of muffled moans reached my ears. Disgusting. But at this point, I treated their shameless display like an obstacle I just needed to walk past. I kept my eyes straight, heading towards the front door.
But before my hand could even touch the doorknob, a sharp, commanding voice sliced through the silence.
"Where do you think you're going dressed like that?"
I groaned internally. What now? I turned around, and my breath hitched. Lucas was suddenly standing right behind me. He was so close I could feel the heat radiating from his body.
I glanced past his shoulder toward the sofa. Clara had fallen asleep. Well, that was fast, I thought dryly.
I looked up at him. Even with my heels, I barely reached his chest. "None of your business. You never cared before, so keep that same energy now."
Instead of answering, he took a step forward, forcing me to take a step back until my spine hit the hard wood of the front door. I was trapped.
I glared up at him, masking my sudden nervousness. "What is wrong with you? Have you lost your mind?"
"I asked you a question, Elaine," Lucas growled, his dark eyes raking down my body, lingering on the exposed skin of my chest and thighs before snapping back to my face. "Where are you going dressed like that?"
"I'm going out to eat," I said, keeping my tone completely indifferent.
"To eat?" One of his large hands slammed against the door right next to my head, pinning me completely. "In a dress that looks like it's barely holding on?"
I swallowed hard. My heart wasn't racing because I liked him, it was racing because the proximity was overwhelming. I couldn't look into his piercing eyes anymore, so I dropped my gaze to his broad, slightly exposed chest.
"Yes, to eat. I'm starving. And this is a new dress, so I felt like wearing it. It’s a waste to leave it in the closet," I muttered, trying to sound bored.
Suddenly, his free hand came up, his fingers gently gripping my chin and tilting my face up. His touch wasn't rough or painful—it was surprisingly gentle. Our eyes locked.
"With who?" he demanded. Before I could answer, his other hand dropped to my waist, his palm resting on my bare lower back, his thumb tracing a soft, slow circle against my skin.
My breath hitched completely. My mind was short-circuiting. What the hell was wrong with him tonight?
"W-with Ethan," I stammered, my voice barely a whisper.
The moment the name left my lips, the gentle caress on my waist stopped dead. I watched as Lucas's jaw clenched so hard the veins in his neck pulsed. The possessive, dangerous glint that flared in his eyes sent a shiver straight down my spine.
And for the first time in a long time... I felt a surge of genuine fear.
