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Linda Johnson ad: The Hip Slinger Belt

The Hip Slinger Belt
6
Linda Johnson

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Launched Jun 26, 2026Run time unknown

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The Hip Slinger Belt

When darkness meets whimsy, nightmares become dreams. Each piece moves between shadows and spectacle, crafted for those who dance between worlds. Turn heads and break boundaries with designs that celebrate the macabre and the magnificent in equal measure...

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She signed the divorce and vanished. Five years later, she returned with a secret that shattered his world. He tossed her aside for his lover. Little did he know, she left with his heir. The wife he despised disappeared. He never expected to meet her again... with a mini-him by her side. --------------------------------------------- Chapter 1 His First Love Returned Sophia Evans could feel her world beginning to crack the moment she heard the news—the woman her husband, Lucas Westwood, had never gotten over was back. When Sophia arrived at the hotel's VIP suite with a gift, she found Lucas's first love—Emily Evans—being humiliated by his childhood friends. "Lick the wine off my shoe, Emily. I'll give you thirty thousand dollars," one of them said. Emily was forced to kneel on the floor, tears in her defiant eyes as she stared shamefully at Lucas. Lucas watched with a dark expression, saying nothing as he held his temper in check. Sophia halted mid-step, struck by the painful familiarity of the scene. Three years ago, when she had first been welcomed into the Evans family, these same privileged young men had tormented her in exactly the same way to gain Emily's favor. But back then, Lucas hadn't worn this expression of utter heartbreak. "There you are," Lucas said as soon as he spotted Sophia, his arm sliding around her waist in a show of intimacy. Only Sophia could feel the desperate pressure of his grip—a silent testament to the pain he was trying to conceal. Lucas's childhood friends had reserved the entire venue for his birthday celebration. But Sophia had never expected Emily to show up here. Everyone knew Lucas had married Sophia just to spite Emily. Three years ago, Emily's identity as a fake heiress was exposed. She broke up with Lucas then and there and left the Evans family behind. Lucas pursued her to the airport, boarded her departing flight, and forced the plane that had already taken off to turn back. Right there on that plane, he proposed to Emily. To his complete surprise, Emily refused without hesitation, declaring that the arranged marriage should be honored by the Evans family's true heiress. Humiliated and acting out of spite, Lucas married Sophia instead. For three years, Sophia had lived as Emily's stand-in. Everyone whispered that if Emily ever returned, Lucas would discard Sophia without a second thought. Sophia had once believed that too, but something had shifted in these past six months—Lucas seemed to be genuinely falling for her. He made grand declarations of love in the press, showered her with luxury homes and cars, and even replaced the cherry tree he'd planted for Emily with a garden full of red roses. In their most tender moments, he'd whisper against her ear, "Let's have a baby, Sophie. I hope they have your smile." Sophia's hand drifted absently to her stomach as she clutched the gift box a little tighter. Inside was a positive pregnancy test—meant to be Lucas's birthday surprise. But now, the timing of the gift felt all wrong. "You still think you're the Evans family princess, Emily? Lucas only has eyes for Sophia now. Why not be with me? A pretty thing like you deserves to be treated right," one of Lucas's friends, Ryan Shaw, sneered. He dragged Emily onto his lap, his hands already roaming over her. "Get your hands off me!" Emily cried, fighting against Ryan's grip as humiliation burned through her. Her resistance only fueled Ryan's excitement. In one swift motion, he shoved her down onto the couch, his powerful body trapping hers. Horrified that Ryan would assault Emily right in front of Lucas, Sophia jumped up to stop him, only to be shoved aside as Lucas already surged into action. As she stumbled, her hands instinctively reached for Lucas's arm, but he brutally shook her off. She hit the floor hard, a jolt of sharp pain shooting from her tailbone straight to her womb. Through the pain-induced haze, she saw Lucas grab Ryan by the collar, drag him off Emily, and pummel his face with brutal, unforgiving fists. "You've overstepped, Ryan. Emily is mine. Even if I discard her, she'll never be yours to touch," Lucas snapped. His words hung in the air, and the entire room fell silent as if frozen in time. Sophia stared at Lucas in disbelief, wondering where she stood in his life now that he had openly claimed Emily as his woman. All eyes in the room were drawn to the scene. Some watched with malicious delight, while others were simply captivated by the unfolding drama. Doubled over in pain, Sophia felt a warm wetness spreading beneath her. Her face paled as a cold dread gripped her heart. "Honey, my stomach hurts," she turned to Lucas instinctively. "Please, take me to the hospital." Without even glancing her way, Lucas removed his jacket and gently placed it around Emily's shoulders. Nestling into his embrace, Emily whispered, her voice trembling, "Lucas, I'm scared. Please take me away from here." "Don't worry," he murmured, holding her close. "I won't let anyone hurt you." Sweeping Emily into his arms, Lucas carried her out of the room, completely ignoring Sophia's pain-racked form shuddering on the floor. Perched comfortably on his shoulder, Emily gazed down at Sophia's crumpled form on the floor, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. The spectators murmured among themselves, still savoring the drama they'd just witnessed. "Emily's definitely the one for Lucas. He hasn't taken his eyes off her all night." "The way Lucas looks at her... I thought it was hatred, but it's clearly something else entirely." "Who could resist someone like her? I certainly wouldn't be able to stay angry." "Poor Sophia. She was just a side character in their love story." At the mention of Sophia's name, the crowd remembered her presence simultaneously, their attention shifting to where she sat. Sophia was in terrible pain and covered in a cold sweat until someone finally noticed her condition and quickly helped her to her feet. "Are you okay?" the guy asked. She gripped his arm tightly as the room spun around her. "Please take me to the hospital. My stomach hurts terribly," she pleaded. Then everything went dark as she fainted. Through the haze of semi-consciousness, distant screams about blood echoed in her ears. When Sophia regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a hospital room. The sharp scent of antiseptic hung in the air as she lay alone in the quiet ward. A nurse tending to her bandages noticed her awakening. "You're awake," she said softly. Sophia's voice came out weak and fearful. "My baby... Is my baby alright?" "Your baby is fine," the nurse reassured her. "But you'll need to take special care. These first few months are particularly delicate in your condition." Relief washed over Sophia as grateful tears fell. "Thank you," she whispered, overwhelmed that her child was safe. Through the emotional turmoil, Sophia's first thought was to share the news with Lucas immediately. Wiping her tears, she reached for her phone and dialed his number. The phone rang several times before Lucas finally picked up. His voice was edged with impatience as he answered, "Not coming home tonight. Don't wait—" "Lucas, my hair's caught in this zipper," Emily's voice interrupted, floating through the line. "Could you give me a hand?" Sophia's knuckles went white around her phone. "Be right there," he said. The call ended before Sophia could form a response. Overnight, things between her and Lucas had reverted to how they were six months ago. Back then, he'd been all cold shoulders and sharp tones. Even in their most intimate moments, he treated her like just another need to be met. To him, she might as well have been a stranger—or worse, just a convenient body. So when he finally let his guard down, she'd been so grateful for the warmth that she fell harder than she ever meant to. She thought her years of longing had finally paid off. But reality slapped her senseless when Lucas chose Emily's safety over their own child's life. After being discharged from the hospital, Sophia caught a taxi home. Midway through the ride, her phone buzzed with a Twitter alert. It was a tweet from Emily: [You told me you'd hold my hand and never let go—not for the rest of our lives.] The attached photo showed Emily dressed like a princess, complete with a tiny crown, her hand locked tightly with a larger, elegant hand. Around the wrist was a bracelet made of prayer beads—the very one Sophia had prayed for in a church last year, when Lucas was burning up with fever. That day, he squeezed her hand and whispered a promise that he would never leave her side. Chapter 2 Ask Him for a Divorce The taxi stopped outside the Nightfall Estate, where Sophia paid the fare and got out of the vehicle. She was just heading inside when a truck carrying young cherry trees rumbled up the drive and stopped near the garden. Workers carefully unloaded the cherry trees and settled them into the prepared holes. Where a vibrant sea of red roses had bloomed just yesterday, now only upturned earth remained, with the plants piled carelessly to the side. A dull ache spread through Sophia's chest as she gazed at the rose petals strewn like crimson tears across the soil. The familiar purr of a luxury car engine approached from behind. Turning around, Sophia saw Lucas step out of the car. He stood tall and straight, radiating a natural air of calm elegance. "Honey..." Sophia began, but the words died on her lips as he leaned back into the car. With gentle care, he helped a woman step out—it was Emily, who looked radiant in an exquisite designer ensemble that made her complexion glow. Only when Emily was steady did Lucas's gaze finally meet Sophia's, those usually warm eyes now regarding her with detached indifference. "Did you need something?" he asked, his tone flat. The cold unfamiliarity in his look struck Sophia's heart like a physical blow. "Why are you tearing out the roses when they were growing so well?" she asked, desperate for his explanation. Those roses had been his special way of confessing his feelings to her. Lucas barely glanced at the destroyed garden. "Emily's not feeling well. She'll be staying with us for a bit." "What does that have to do with the roses?" she pressed. "She's allergic to the pollen," he said curtly, already turning to guide Emily inside. Sophia stood rooted to the spot, her heart breaking. Emily's delicate voice carried through the air. "Lucas, Sophia seems upset. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have complained about the roses." "She doesn't matter to me," Lucas reassured her. "But I worry she'll resent me. Really, I can manage with allergy medication," Emily offered, her voice dripping with false concern. "Medication always has side effects. Don't suggest things that worry me," he replied. Sophia stood motionless as she watched their figures grow smaller in the distance. A silent tear traced its way down her cheek while overwhelming sorrow washed over her. 'I don't matter to him... Yeah, right,' Sophia murmured with bitter irony, the truth of the words settling like a weight in her heart. He hadn't even asked about her absence last night, and now he had ordered her favorite roses to be torn out. The message was clear—she meant less to him than the slightest thought of Emily. For three years, she had devoted herself to him, offering unwavering love and comfort through difficult times. She had believed her constant warmth could thaw even the coldest heart, but Emily's reappearance had erased everything in an instant. She wondered what their intimacy these past six months had truly meant, and what role she had actually played in his life. A sudden twinge in her lower abdomen made her catch her breath. Pale and unsteady, she turned toward the villa. As Sophia stepped into the living room, she saw Emily nestled against Lucas on the sofa, watching with affectionate amusement as he peeled an orange for her. Lucas gently picked away every bit of white pith from the orange segments before arranging them on a plate for Emily. "For you," he said with a soft smile. "Enjoy, my little foodie." As Emily took the plate, she noticed Sophia entering the room. A triumphant smile graced her lips as she called out, "Sophia, would you like some? Lucas peeled these himself. Something you've never experienced, I'm sure." Sophia's gaze fell upon the perfectly prepared orange segments, and she felt a sudden sting behind her eyes. The painful truth was that in all their time together, Lucas had never once peeled an orange for her. She had always been the one serving him. The realization struck her with perfect clarity—Lucas knew well how to be thoughtful, but he simply reserved his kindness for Emily. Sophia felt her heart breaking into pieces as she finally understood how painful comparison could be. "She's perfectly capable of peeling her own fruit," Lucas said dismissively, barely glancing at Sophia. Then he noticed her pale complexion and added, "Are you alright? You look terribly pale." Sophia's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she debated telling Lucas her secret pregnancy. A fragile hope whispered within her—that this truth might finally soften his heart toward her. "I..." Her voice faltered, the words dying on her lips. "If you're ill, see a doctor. This pathetic act is getting tiresome," Lucas said, impatience flashing across his handsome features. He was annoyed by her wounded expression, which seemed to suggest she was the victim of some terrible injustice. Sophia swallowed her unspoken words, her gaze lingering on the man who suddenly felt like a complete stranger. "I'm fine," she murmured. "I'll just go to my room." As she turned toward the staircase, Lucas felt a surge of irritation. 'I must've been too lenient with her, and now she dared to show me attitude,' he thought, fuming. Sophia had only climbed a few steps when the housekeeper, Wendy, appeared descending the stairs with servants carrying boxes. The items looked familiar, but it was the sight of her stuffed doll in Wendy's arms that made Sophia realize everything they carried was hers. In a swift motion, she stepped forward and snatched the doll. Her voice turned icy as she asked, "Wendy, care to explain this?" "Mr. Westwood's orders," Wendy said quietly. "You're to move to the storage room downstairs." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, leaving her mind reeling. She turned to Lucas, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't be serious." They'd already maintained separate bedrooms, but she never imagined that she'd be banished to a storage room instead of even being offered the guest suite after Emily's return. For a fleeting moment under her gaze, Lucas felt a twinge of guilt, but it quickly hardened into resolve. "Emily needs the sunroom for her health," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your room gets the best light. It's better for her recovery." The absurdity of it all drew a bitter laugh from Sophia's lips. She thought his previous cruelty—shoving her while pregnant and replacing her roses with Emily's cherry trees—had been the worst it could get. But this new humiliation surpassed even that. All Lucas had done since Emily's return yesterday was talk about her. In just one day, she had turned Sophia's whole life upside down. Sophia expected to feel rage, but instead found only a hollow emptiness settling in her chest. 'Look at him, Sophia,' Sophia thought bitterly. 'This is the man you gave your heart and soul to. Was any of it worth it?' "If you're so worried about her comfort, why not just move her into your room? The master suite gets the best light anyway," Sophia shot back. Lucas responded sharply, "Sophia, you need to watch your tone." Emily's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I know you don't want me here, Sophia. I'll go. Please don't fight with Lucas over me." Sophia saw right through Emily's act. A humorless laugh escaped her as she spat, "You're not going anywhere. I am." Tightening her grip on the stuffed doll, she turned and headed for the door. "Don't you dare, Sophia." Lucas rose to his feet, his voice cutting through the room. "Walk out that door now, and don't expect to ever come back." Sophia's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "I'll make sure you receive the divorce papers," she said, her voice cold and steady. "See that you sign them." "You're asking me for a divorce?" Lucas's voice was low, thick with barely restrained fury. He added, his tone edged with contempt, "Have you forgotten who gave you this life, Sophia? The luxury, the status—all of it came from me. Without my name, you're just that wide-eyed girl fresh off that forgotten little town. You don't get to leave." Chapter 3 The Replaced Medical Result Sophia didn't need to look back to know the condescending smirk that was surely on Lucas's face. She knew he had always despised her. His proposal three years ago had been motivated only by a desire to fulfill the marriage agreement between their families and to exact revenge on Emily. She had been naive enough to believe his empty promises, offering him her genuine love when he saw her as nothing more than a pawn. To him, she would always be a leech, clinging to his wealth and name for survival. But now, she had reached her limit, and she no longer wanted him in her life. Sophia walked out without a backward glance. As she stepped through the gateway, the sound of shattering porcelain echoed behind her, but she no longer cared. Lucas stood amid the shattered remains, fingers pressed to his temples. His face was a mask of simmering anger. He dismissed the mention of divorce as just another one of her calculated moves, a transparent attempt to get his attention by pulling away. Emily watched him hesitantly. "Maybe I shouldn't be staying here, Lucas. Sophia seemed really upset." "It's nothing," Lucas replied evenly. Seeing how the mention of divorce had affected him, she suggested softly, "You could go after her. Women usually respond well to a little reassurance." "I don't have time for that," Lucas said, turning toward the staircase. With a business trip looming, his mind was elsewhere. 'Let her make a scene if she wants to,' he thought. 'She'll cool off and come crawling back. She always does.' ***** Sophia's home was a beautiful 3,200-square-foot apartment with an open-concept layout and sleek modern decor—all paid for with her own earnings. In her study, she printed the divorce papers and a letter resigning from her position. With a steady hand, she signed both, and then summoned a courier to deliver them directly to the Westwood Group. When she married Lucas three years ago, Sophia had joined his company, hoping to build a genuine connection with him. She started at the very bottom as an assistant and gradually earned her way up to department manager. She had wanted nothing more than to be close to him—in their home and at work. But in the end, her efforts were met with cold indifference. Gazing downward, Sophia softly cradled her stomach. "It's just us now, little one," she whispered. The courier arrived at Westwood headquarters while Lucas was away. His chief executive assistant, Kevin Chapman, received the delivery and signed. The moment Kevin saw the contents, he reached for the phone, dialing Lucas's number in haste. "Mr. Westwood, your wife has sent divorce documents." "Burn it all." On the other side of the ocean, Lucas loosened his tie as an unexpected wave of irritation came over him. "But Mrs. Westwood has even submitted her resignation letter..." Kevin replied, his tone hesitant. "She can't survive without this family." The blue flame from Lucas's lighter highlighted the grim set of his features. "Let her be. She'll come crawling back once reality sets in." Meanwhile, Sophia remained completely unaware of his words. Her morning had begun with a call from her mother-in-law, Helen Westwood. "Where are you? Return at once," Helen commanded in her typically imperious manner, leaving no room for discussion. Complying, Sophia drove back to the estate. No sooner had she stepped inside than a velvet box came hurling toward her head, which she narrowly avoided by stepping aside. Helen's shrill voice pierced the air. "How dare you avoid that? You've got some nerve." Sophia's gaze fell upon the velvet box at her feet, and suddenly, she understood why it seemed familiar. She remembered purchasing that exact box to store her pregnancy test results. On Lucas's birthday, she had intended to present it to him as a gift, but he had accidentally pushed her before she could give it to him, resulting in her hospitalization. Her heart leaped as she turned to face Helen's livid expression. 'Could she know about the pregnancy? But something about her reaction seems strange,' she wondered. For three years, Helen had made no secret of her disapproval of Sophia, someone raised in a small town. Yet every time Sophia visited the Westwood residence with Lucas, Helen would consistently nag Sophia about starting a family soon. If Helen knew Sophia was pregnant, she was supposed to be absolutely delighted instead of reacting like this. Helen clutched a medical report, her eyes blazing with fury as she stared down Sophia. "For three years, I've watched your marriage to Lucas, wondering why you never conceived. Now I understand—he married a barren woman. "If you hadn't left this at the hotel and Lucas's friend hadn't been kind enough to deliver it, I'd still be in the dark about your condition." Heart pounding with shock, Sophia ignored Helen's murderous gaze and snatched the document from her hand. The clinical report lay cold and pale in the morning light. There was her name, clearly printed, alongside the devastating diagnosis: "permanent infertility." 'Permanent infertility? But that's impossible. I'm pregnant. Someone must have switched my test results. But who would do such a thing?' Sophia wondered. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "This isn't my..." Emily, who had remained silent until now, suddenly interrupted, "Sophia, the Westwood lineage has been passed down through a single heir for ten generations. Are you trying to ensure Lucas dies without an heir? To extinguish the family line completely?" "How utterly heartless!" Helen exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Sophia as her anger reached its peak. "We've welcomed you with open arms since you married into this family. Yet you've been hiding this from us? To think you'd let our family line die out—it's truly despicable!" she added. Sophia didn't even attempt to explain herself. If they wanted to believe she was barren, so be it—it would only simplify the divorce proceedings. "I only received the results two days ago. I hadn't found the right moment to share the news," Sophia replied, her voice calm. "This wasn't about finding the right moment. You did this intentionally," Helen retorted, her face contorted with rage. "And you planned to give this to Lucas as a gift? What kind of twisted mind would conceive such a thing?" Sophia maintained her silence. Helen took a measured breath, forcing her anger down. "If you can't conceive naturally, I won't hold it against you. I've spoken with Emily, and she's agreed to donate her eggs so you and Lucas can pursue in vitro fertilization." Sophia stared in disbelief at the unexpected turn. "Could you repeat that?" She believed she had misheard because the suggestion was both preposterous and deeply offensive. "If you can't conceive, that's your problem. Emily is being extraordinarily generous by offering her eggs. The least you could do is show some appreciation instead of this ingratitude," Helen sneered. A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. "Perhaps you'd like to accept this generous offer yourself?" "How dare you speak to me like that!" Helen's eyes flashed with fury. "Sophia, you shouldn't speak to Mrs. Westwood that way. She was suggesting that for your sake," Emily said in a honeyed tone, reaching for the glass. As she moved, she made certain to display the prayer beads circling her delicate wrist. Sophia's breath caught—she would recognize the bracelet anywhere. That was the very ones she had sacrificed so much to obtain while praying for Lucas's recovery. It felt like a personal insult, seeing the bracelet that symbolized her love for Lucas now clasped around Emily's wrist. "For my sake?" Sophia repeated, the words tasting bitter as she caught the sly glint of satisfaction in Emily's eyes. It sent a sharp ache through her. She knew this game all too well. Emily had a gift for twisting people's vulnerabilities to her advantage, a lesson Sophia had learned the hard way three years ago. "I'm infertile. What possible use could I have for your eggs?" Sophia asked, her voice cold. "Do you really think I need a constant reminder of what I can't have?" Emily's smile vanished. For Helen's benefit, she bit her lip, her eyes instantly welling with feigned hurt. "Mrs. Westwood," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "I was only trying to help Sophia." Helen immediately comforted Emily by patting her hand. She then shot Sophia a disapproving look. "How can you be so selfish, Sophia? Are you really determined to let the Westwood family line die out?" Sophia gestured dismissively toward Emily. "Well, if she's so fertile, let her handle the baby-making." The thought of Emily getting to be a mother the easy way turned Sophia's stomach. Chapter 4 Take Back Her Things The color drained from both Helen's and Emily's faces. Helen stepped forward, jabbing a finger toward Sophia. "You think you're better than us? Then you give the Westwood family an heir. Don't blame anyone else for your own useless womb." Sophia bit back the sharp retort on her tongue. She was done with this family, done with Lucas. Arguing now would only prolong the inevitable. "Mrs. Westwood," she began, "I've decided—" Lucas's familiar, deep voice cut through the tension from the doorway. "Decided what?" Sophia turned to see Lucas standing there, his clothes rumpled from travel. His assistant, Kevin, hovered behind him with a suitcase in hand. The air in the room was thick with tension, so Kevin knew better than to stay. He simply left the suitcase by the door and made a quick exit. Loosening his tie, Lucas turned to Helen. "Mom, what brings you here?" "If I hadn't come, you'd have let our family name die out," Helen shot back. She then snatched the medical report from Sophia and flung it at Lucas's chest. "See for yourself," she said coldly, and with that, she swept out of the room. Lucas looked down at the document in his hands, and the words "permanent infertility" caused a faint twitch in his brow. His eyes, when they finally lifted to meet Sophia's, were devoid of warmth. "You'll go back to the hospital tomorrow for a full work-up. I will not have a wife who can't give me an heir." A hollow ache spread through Sophia's chest. Any foolish hope she'd been clinging to finally faded. Lucas had never defended her in three years of his mother's constant belittlement. And now, the ease with which he believed this lie revealed the chilling truth of his character. "I have the divorce papers right here," Sophia said, pulling the documents from her bag. She extended them toward him, her voice steady. "Just sign them, and you'll never have to see me again." Lucas didn't even look at the papers. In one swift motion, his hand closed around her throat, pulling her close. He leaned in until his face was mere inches from hers, and she could feel his warm breath and smell the familiar scent of his cologne. There was a time when this closeness would have made her heart flutter. Now, it only made her skin crawl. It was amazing how easy it was to walk away when all the love had drained away. "Sophia, have I been too soft with you?" Lucas's voice was thick with contempt. "Where exactly do you think you'll go without my protection?" She held his gaze without flinching. "That's really none of your concern anymore." "Still got that sharp tongue," he sneered. He released her with a dismissive shove, as if her defiance meant nothing. "Go make me dinner. I'm hungry." A wave of pain shot through Sophia's lower abdomen as she sank into the sofa, her skin turning clammy with an instant, cold sweat. Across the room, Emily slid her arm through Lucas's with practiced ease. "Don't let Sophia bother you," she murmured. "Her little scene was just a cry for your attention." Lucas pulled his tie free, his stern expression melting away as he focused on Emily. "How are you holding up?" he asked, his tone gentler. "I'm fine," she sighed, putting on a pitiful face. "It's just that the medicine is so awfully bitter." "It's bitter because it's strong. You need to keep taking it," he reminded her. "I picked up those candies you like. They're in my suitcase. Go get them yourself." "I know you always look out for me," Emily said, stretching up to press a light kiss to Lucas's cheek. "Consider that your reward." A look of quiet satisfaction crossed his features at the gesture. "I'm going up to shower," he said. "Go ahead," Emily said sweetly, fluttering a wave at him. She waited until Lucas's footsteps faded up the staircase before turning to the suitcase. They carried on as if Sophia weren't standing right there in the same room. Humming cheerfully, Emily unzipped the luggage. Alongside Lucas's neatly folded clothes sat a jar of shimmering candies and an elegant red velvet box that clearly held something valuable. Her eyes skipped over the candy, going straight to the velvet box. When she lifted the lid, a pink diamond necklace lay gleaming, its facets scattering rainbows in the light. "Oh, it's exquisite. I love it," she whispered, her eyes widening. "So the candy was just a decoy. This necklace is what he really wanted me to find." Draping the necklace against her collarbone, Emily turned to face Sophia, who had risen from the sofa. "Well, Sophia? Don't you think it suits me perfectly?" The pink diamond necklace around Emily's neck struck Sophia as oddly familiar. It came to her a moment later—she had coveted it last month while flipping through a magazine. Lucas had seen her fascination and promised to get it for her. The catch was its exclusivity—a single piece, sourced from Melaria, the country where Lucas had been attending to business. "That was for me," Sophia said, her voice calm. The man was disposable, but her possessions were not. She would reclaim what was rightfully hers. With a swift motion, Emily clasped the necklace. "Finders keepers," she said with a mocking grin. Sophia approached for a closer look. Though the necklace was more exquisite than its photograph, any desire for it had vanished. A wary look crossed Emily's face. "What is this about?" "To take what belongs to me, of course," Sophia said, stepping close and extending her hand. "It's time you returned it." Emily's hands instinctively flew to the diamond necklace at her throat. "Lucas will never stand for this, Sophia. You know what I mean to him." Sophia almost laughed. She knew well that Emily held a special place in Lucas's heart. But that was irrelevant. She was only claiming what was hers. "Give the bracelet back to me," Sophia said coldly. It was a token earned through true devotion, and she wouldn't let its significance be tarnished. Realizing Sophia only wanted the simple bracelet, Emily smiled condescendingly. 'Some shortsighted people have no taste,' she thought. Emily twisted the bracelet around her wrist. "I heard you went to Grace Abbey to beg for this good-luck charm," she said. "You are so hung up on him, aren't you?" The hypocrisy of her words was almost laughable. "Give it back," Sophia said, her voice like ice. Emily's eyes flickered to a point behind Sophia, and a sly smile touched her lips. She lowered her voice. "If you want it so badly, why don't you come and take it?" Sophia didn't stop to think. She grabbed Emily's wrist and tugged the bracelet free. The moment it was off, Emily's demeanor shifted completely. "Sophia, what are you doing?" she cried out, her voice suddenly loud and panicked. "Lucas gave this to me." Before Sophia could even turn around, a powerful hand seized her by the collar and hauled her backwards. The fabric dug sharply into her throat, stealing her breath. Stumbling to regain her footing, Sophia looked up to see Lucas. He was already cradling Emily. "Emily, are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern. Emily buried her face in his chest. "I'm fine," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Please, don't be angry with Sophia. She didn't mean it." Lucas's jaw tightened, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple. He took a deep breath and fixed Sophia with an icy stare. "Apologize to Emily." Chapter 5 She Wants a Clean Break A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. She had fooled herself into thinking she was numb to Lucas's coldness. But his command still sent a fresh, sharp pain through her chest. She knew there was no point arguing with a man who had already chosen the other woman's side. "I won't apologize," Sophia said, her fist closing tightly around the bracelet. "What for?" Emily looked up at Lucas with well-practiced vulnerability. "I'm causing trouble here, Lucas. I should go." Lucas caught her wrist before she could take a second step. "You're staying right here." His attention snapped back to Sophia, his expression darkening. "Now, Sophia, apologize to Emily." The room blurred as tears filled Sophia's eyes, twisting his familiar face into a stranger's. She lifted the simple bracelet between them. "This is my stuff in the first place. Since when is taking back what was stolen a crime?" "Your stuff? Since when do you have anything of your own?" Lucas's lips curled in a sneer. "I've paid for every stitch of clothing on your back." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, forcing a bitter laugh from her lips. He knew perfectly well she earned her own living, yet he took every opportunity to demean her. "This bracelet came from Grace Abbey," she countered, her voice trembling. "You didn't pay a cent for it." Lucas's eyes dropped to the simple beads in her palm. "You think I care about some cheap bracelet?" he scoffed. Hot tears streamed down Sophia's face without warning. Wiping them away, Sophia made a silent vow—this would be the last time he reduced her to this. "Fine!" With one sharp motion, she snapped the bracelet's cord, sending beads skittering across the floor. Lucas watched the scattered beads come to rest, his hand curling into a white-knuckled fist at his side. He knew how much that bracelet meant to her, but the moment Emily wanted it, he didn't hesitate to take it off and hand it over. Lucas's head snapped up, his eyes blazing. "Sophia!" "I want a divorce," Sophia said, her voice eerily calm. As she opened her hand, the last bead from the bracelet clattered onto the floor between them. "Let's just end this." The sound was small, but in the tense silence, it was deafening, echoing in Lucas's mind. He let out a short laugh, his gaze locked on her. "You think a threat will work? You should know better than that by now." 'This has to be a ploy,' he thought to himself. 'She loves me too much to go through with it. She has accepted her role as Emily's replacement from the beginning and has never once tried to leave. 'She would never have the strength to walk away from me.' "Go make us something to eat, and we can forget this ever happened." Lucas was certain he had thrown Sophia a lifeline. He waited, fully expecting her to be overcome with relief and scurry off to the kitchen. He'd been away on business, and days of unfamiliar rich food had left his stomach unsettled. What he craved was Sophia's cooking—simple, hearty food that tasted like home. It was a flavor he couldn't find anywhere else. "You can go eat your ass," Sophia shot back. She picked up her bag, her lips twisting into a scornful smile, and walked out without a backward glance. That smile grated on Lucas's nerves more than the insult itself. In his frustration, his eyes fell on the string of prayer beads lying scattered on the floor, and he gave them an impatient kick. 'So that's her game. She wants to challenge me? I'd like to see just how long her resolve will hold,' he thought, fuming. ***** Sophia sped away from Nightfall Estate, her phone buzzing relentlessly on the passenger seat. Lucas's name flashed across the screen again and again until she finally grabbed it and blocked his number for good. When she looked up at the road, she blinked, her vision blurring for a moment. She braced for the familiar sting of tears, but when her fingers touched her skin, it was dry. It was only then that she noticed the soft patter against the windshield. A fine drizzle had begun to fall, and a quiet melancholy settled over her, as gray as the sky. Up ahead, the flickering hazard lights of a sleek black car broke the rhythm of the rain. A man in a soaked suit, looking to be in his forties, stood beside it, waving frantically at passing traffic. Almost without conscious thought, Sophia found herself flipping on her turn signal and pulling over. She rolled down her window as the man rushed over. "Everything okay?" she asked. "It's my boss," the man said, his voice tight with panic. "He's having a heart attack. The ambulance is stuck in a multi-car accident. Please, can you take us to the hospital?" Sophia hesitated. Letting two strange men into her car, especially in this weather, felt dangerous. Every cautionary tale she'd ever heard flashed through her mind. Seeing her hesitation, the man added urgently, "I promise we're not dangerous. My boss is—" But Sophia was already moving, cutting the engine and stepping out into the downpour. "Just get him to my car, now," she called out as she rushed toward their vehicle. As she got closer, she recognized the distinctive emblem of the black Maybach. Working together, they carefully transferred the elderly man from the luxury sedan into Sophia's more modest car. The old man's lips were tinged with blue, and each ragged breath seemed like a struggle, clear signs of his critical condition. Sliding behind the wheel, Sophia started the car and pulled back onto the road, pushing through the veils of rain. In the backseat, the middle-aged man was a whirlwind of activity on his phone, coordinating with a hospital and alerting the family. Beyond the windows, the storm seemed to intensify, as if trying to match the urgency inside the car. After ensuring everything was in place, the man turned to Sophia with heartfelt appreciation. "You're the only one who stopped in this downpour. We can't thank you enough." A warm smile touched Sophia's lips. "Some things are just meant to be." ***** Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the hospital entrance where medical staff stood ready. The team swiftly transferred the elderly man to a stretcher and hurried him inside for emergency care. Just as Sophia was about to drive away, she spotted a lone leather shoe in the backseat—the one the elderly man had been wearing. After a moment's hesitation, she parked properly and carried the shoe to the reception desk, logging it as a lost item. Sophia was just turning to leave when a group emerged from the hospital's main entrance. At the front of the group was a man whose height and posture commanded attention. He turned his sharp gaze on her, and the intensity in his eyes was so commanding that it felt like a physical pressure. 'That frown means trouble,' Sophia thought. She averted her gaze and continued walking, brushing past the group without a second look. It wasn't until she was back in the driver's seat that she felt the chill of her wet clothes clinging to her skin. As she dried her hair with a towel from the backseat, a notification popped up on her phone while she was opening the navigation app. It was a post from Emily: [Nothing says 'forever' like a soft-boiled egg made with love! My ultimate comfort food.] The post featured two photos—one showed a soft-boiled egg with a ketchup heart, and the other captured a tall man's back as he stood at the stove, an apron tied around his waist. Sophia couldn't help but compare. When she was with Lucas, he had acted like even pouring her a glass of water was a significant concession. Cooking a meal was utterly out of the question. The fact that he was now cooking for Emily spoke volumes about where his true affections lay. She closed the page and entered her apartment address into the navigation system before driving out of the parking lot. As she watched the heavy rain outside, a single decisive thought crystallized in her mind—this marriage was over. Chapter 6 Return the Trash to the Dumpster That evening, a text came through from Annabelle Quinn, Sophia's best friend since college, insisting they go out to a lounge. The old Sophia would have declined immediately, conditioned to obey Lucas's rule about her not going out. But now that Sophia was divorcing him, his opinions held no weight. ***** The moment Sophia stepped out of the car, she saw Annabelle waiting by the entrance. "Hope you haven't been waiting long," she said as she approached. "Just got here," Annabelle grinned, looping her arm through Sophia's. "So, what's the special occasion? Did you finally get a night off from your sweetheart?" Sophia struggled to find the words, but she couldn't keep it from her best friend. "I'm getting a divorce," she finally said. "Let me guess," Annabelle said, not one to mince words in front of her best friend. "This is about Emily being back, isn't it?" "It's not just that," Sophia admitted, her voice quiet. It just took seeing the difference for herself to truly see how little her three years of effort had meant. Annabelle threw a supportive arm around Sophia's shoulders. "You should have woken up to this a long time ago." For three years, she had watched Sophia lose herself in a hollow relationship, and it killed Annabelle to see her friend throw everything away for a man who never appreciated her. "Better late than never," Sophia offered with a weak smile. "Damn right it is," Annabelle declared. "Tonight, I'm getting us the best male models in town. You deserve some real attention." They ascended into the pulsating heart of the club, pushing through the glittering crowd toward the exclusive booth Annabelle had booked. As they moved past the entrance to a private booth, a burst of laughter and chatter spilled into the hallway. Amid the noise, Sophia's own name caught her sharp ear. "Got to hand it to Lucas. The minute Emily was back, he moved her right in. Word is, he showed Sophia the door." "Well, she had it coming. Play the simp, and you lose it all. Seriously though, that night in the booth with all the blood? I truly thought a tragedy had occurred, but it was probably just her period." "You're thinking about that? Man, have you had a thing for Sophia all along?" "Who'd pine after some nobody from a backwater? Only Lucas, with his unique preferences, would stick around for three years." "Guess the novelty wore off. Time for a change." Standing in the hallway, Sophia felt a cold stillness settle behind her eyes. The voices clicked into place—Lucas's oldest friends. They had been there that night, spectators to her most shameful moment. Annabelle's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm going to give them a piece of my mind." But as she moved toward the door, Sophia stopped her with a gentle hand. "This is my battle to fight," Sophia said firmly. With that, Sophia pushed the door open and swept into the room. She settled gracefully onto the sofa, joining their conversation with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "If you're talking about unique preferences, I top him," she began, her voice deceptively light, "I recycled what Emily threw away. But it looks like I did everyone a favor by returning the trash to the dumpster where it belongs." A stunned silence fell over the room. Every face on the circular sofa stared at her in horrified fascination. Unbeknownst to Sophia, two figures had entered the room behind her during her speech. The guests' eyes darted nervously between Sophia and the newcomers, the air thickening with tension. There stood Lucas and Emily, their expressions dark as storm clouds. Their presence made Sophia turn. Her eyes instantly met the cold, dark stare of Lucas. But she didn't back down. A defiant shrug lifted her shoulders. "Look what the cat dragged in. My trash husband." Emily's eyes instantly glistened with tears. "Sophia, ignore them," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "It's all lies. Lucas and I are just friends." As if to prove her point, she clutched Lucas's arm. "Tell her, Lucas. Make her understand there's nothing going on between us." Sophia's gaze dropped to the hand clinging to Lucas's arm, and a faint, derisive smile touched her mouth. 'Just friends? Did she really expect anyone to believe that?' she thought bitterly. Lucas detached himself from Emily's grip and closed the distance between him and Sophia. The motion broke the tension, stirring his friends into action. "Hey, Lucas, take it easy," one of them said, stepping forward. "She's just reacting to our stupid jokes." "Come on, Sophia, just say you're sorry to Lucas," another one urged. "You know he'll forgive you." The suggestion made Sophia want to laugh bitterly. 'Is this really how they see me? As some lovesick fool who'd come crawling back at the first sign of forgiveness?' she thought. It explained everything—why, for three years, they had shown her phony respect as Lucas's wife while mocking her devotion in private. She had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn't met Lucas seven years ago, if that fateful incident hadn't tied her to him, she would have moved on with her life long ago. "Are you quite done?" Lucas's voice cut through her thoughts as he reached for her arm. She shifted her weight gracefully, letting his hand close on empty air. The rejected gesture hung between them for a beat too long before he withdrew, his features tightening with displeasure. Turning to Emily, who was now dabbing at her eyes, Sophia arched a brow. "There's no need for the waterworks. You're making it look like I'm the one being cruel here." "Sophia, I've treated you like my elder sister. I—" Emily began, trying to defend herself. "Don't," Sophia interrupted, her voice cool. "We arrived minutes apart, and you were first. Let's skip the emotional act." Emily's face turned from pale to deep red as she clenched her jaw in fury. 'Since when has Sophia found this kind of nerve? She used to shrink into silence whenever Lucas was near,' she thought. Despite her three-year absence from the city, Emily had ensured she received every scrap of information about Sophia's life. She knew all about Sophia's pathetic attempts to please Lucas, and she knew exactly how little he cared for his wife. She even knew they kept separate bedrooms, and that on the occasional night Lucas spent with Sophia, he always sent her back to her own room afterward. She knew that to Lucas, Sophia was just a body—convenient, disposable, and utterly unimportant. With a dark expression, Lucas grabbed Sophia's wrist and began pulling her toward the exit. Sophia's answer was a sharp, stinging slap across his cheek. The sound cracked through the air, and a dead silence fell over the room. All eyes were fixed on Sophia in pure shock. Everyone was wondering if she had lost her mind to dare something like that. Lucas slowly worked his jaw, the look in his eyes so dark that it promised retribution. When Sophia resisted, Lucas didn't hesitate. He swept her up onto his shoulder and carried her out of the room. The sight made Emily's heart clench. She'd never seen Lucas be so patient with anyone. Before she knew it, her hand was on his arm. "Lucas..." He didn't turn his head, but some of the tension left his expression. "I'm taking her home," he said firmly. "The driver will return for you when you're ready." Emily could only watch as Lucas walked away with Sophia. She had no right to stop him, but it stung—this was the first time he'd ever left her for another woman, especially one who meant nothing. Her hands tightened at her sides. 'I gave you a chance to walk away quietly, Sophia. You brought this on yourself,' she thought. Sophia's protests echoed down the hallway as she struggled against Lucas's hold. Unsure what was happening between the couple, Annabelle turned away, pretending she hadn't noticed them. Lucas carried Sophia into the elevator and stepped out briskly when it reached the basement level. As the car door opened, Lucas tossed Sophia into the back seat. Struggling upright, she felt a wave of dizziness and nausea from the prolonged time she'd spent upside down. She opened her mouth to curse, but the words died on her lips as the tinted window of a nearby Maybach began to descend. In the shadowy interior, the man's profile was sharp and forbidding. His lips were set in a firm line, and he sat with the imposing stillness of an iceberg, his presence pushing others away. Sensing her gaze, he glanced over, and their eyes locked. Without a word, Sophia averted her gaze and hid her face behind a veil of tangled hair. Chapter 7 Not Her Home Anymore Lucas's black Bentley pulled out of the underground parking garage, but Sophia was still lost in thought about those intense eyes. There was something familiar about them, though she couldn't quite place where she'd seen them before. Lucas's voice broke the silence. "Did you follow me here? What are you so concerned about?" "What?" Sophia asked, snapping back to reality. Keeping his eyes on the road, Lucas tried to explain. "You know how my friends are—they never think before they speak. Don't take their words seriously. There's nothing going on between Emily and me." 'If there's really nothing between them, why was he being so protective? He only rushed me out because he was worried I might cause a scene and embarrass Emily,' Sophia thought. "Sure," Sophia said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You and Emily are completely innocent." "I'm trying to explain myself here," Lucas said, his patience wearing thin. "Do you have to be so sarcastic?" Her ungrateful attitude was beginning to irritate him. He remembered how she used to soften at the slightest reassurance. Now, it seemed her patience had worn thin. "Understood," Sophia said, her tone flat. "Is that all?" "I've been clear from the beginning—you are my wife, and that won't change. But if you want this marriage to work, you need to drop your little tricks. I won't play these games." Sophia stayed quiet, struck by his assumption that her mention of divorce was merely a plea for attention. Her silence tightened the air between them. "Don't become someone I resent, Sophia," he said with a frown, his voice low. A faint, bitter smile touched her lips as she turned toward the window, shutting him out completely. Sensing he had pushed too far, Lucas eased his tone. "I had your things moved back to our room. If you want to stay with me, just say so. There's no need for all this." Sophia was left speechless. ***** As the car came to a stop in the courtyard of Nightfall Estate, Sophia stepped out. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the cherry blossom grove in the garden. The sight sent a sharp pang through her chest. She forced her gaze away and continued into the villa. Inside, the decor had been completely redone. The new style, with its unmistakable resemblance to the Evans residence, clearly revealed who had overseen the renovations. She moved through rooms that felt entirely alien to her now, but she kept her thoughts to herself since this was no longer her home. Wendy looked surprised when she saw Sophia. "Mrs. Westwood, you've returned. Have you had your supper?" Sinking into the plush pink sofa, Sophia answered quietly, "Yes, thank you." Wendy offered a tight smile before retreating to her quarters to make a hurried phone call to Helen, reporting the unexpected arrival. Helen had never approved of Sophia, whom she saw as a plain nobody not good enough for her son. The infertility diagnosis hardened Helen's resolve to rush the divorce so Lucas could marry someone worthy of giving her grandchildren. The news of Sophia's sudden return after her dramatic departure kept Helen tossing and turning all night. Lucas had been certain Sophia would confront him about the complete makeover of their home.

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After the crash left me badly injured, my husband and best friend never left my side. I was grateful—until a message came through my new tarot shop. "I did something terrible. What kind of gift makes amends?" I asked what she'd done. Her reply: "I stole my best friend's husbands. Both of them." "The first was a doctor—cold, exactly my type. I s1ept with him. She divorced him for cheating but never knew it was me." "Her current husband? Billionaire CEO. Hotter. Richer. I fell again." "Last month, we drvgged her with sleeping pills, left her passed out in the backseat, and screwed in the front seat while driving. Then we crashed." "We got out. She lost her right leg. Can't have kids anymore." "I feel horrible. How do I make amends?" Every word matched MY story. I went cold. Stared until my vision blurred. Finally typed back: "You want to make amends? TURN. YOURSELF. F*CKING. IN." After the accident, my husband and best friend practically lived in my hospital room. Said they were worried I'd hurt myself. I was so touched. Really gave it my all in rehab. Until my tarot shop pinged. "I did something terrible and want to make amends. What kind of gift should I send?" I typed back. "Depends what you did." The response came instantly. "I stole my best friend's husbands. Both of them." "I swear I didn't plan it. Her first husband was this doctor—cold, controlled, totally my type. She was traveling for work, so I... we hooked up." "She found out he cheated. Divorced him. Never suspected me. I swore—never again." "Then she married this CEO. Even hotter. Loaded. I fell for him too. Meant to keep it casual. Got addicted." "Last month we wanted a thrill. Drvgged her with sleeping pills, left her passed out in the backseat, and screwed in the front while driving. Then the crash happened." "We escaped. She didn't." "Lost her right leg. Messed up her insides—can't ever have kids now." "I feel awful. Can't tell her. Just trying to do something." I couldn't feel my hands. Just then, the shipping notification loaded. Recipient: Zelda Moss. My best friend. Everything went cold. I stared at her name until the letters stopped making sense. Where my leg used to be started screaming, but that was nothing. Nothing compared to what just ripped open inside me. How? This whole month, Zelda stayed by my bed. Fed me. Helped me drink. My husband Troy canceled everything. Wiped me down every day. Took care of everything. They were all I had left. How could they? I felt like I was being torn apart. Couldn't breathe. Grabbed my phone. Called my ex-husband Aaron. He picked up fast. "Jess?" I went straight. "Was it Zelda? The one you cheated with?" Dead silence. Then Aaron's voice came through quiet. "Jess, I was stupid. So stupid. I wanted to tell you, but Zelda said if you knew it was your best friend, you'd completely fall apart. That's why—" My heart just... broke. I hung up. Tears just came. Suddenly I was back there. Four years ago. I'd been drowning in work. Ignored Aaron. When I finally surfaced, I found women's underwear in his coat. Not mine. I remember crying. Grabbing my ch//est. Asking him over and over. "Who?" He just pulled at his hair. Looked destroyed. Never said her name. So I divorced him. My childhood best friend Troy flew back from overseas the second he heard. Old family money. Been in love with me since we were kids. Showed up at my door with red eyes. "Don't shut me out. Let me be here. I'll take care of you." And Zelda. When I got really sick, it was Zelda who stayed with me the whole time. Recovery was brutal. I was weak for months. Zelda acted heartbroken for me. Did everything to make me smile. And Troy never complained once. He cooked, cleaned, even blew on my tea to cool it down. Back then I thought they were all I had. Turns out I was just an fvcking idi0t. Betrayed twice. By the people I trusted most. Everything in front of me just... collapsed. I remembered two years ago when I finally said yes to Troy. He lit up like a kid. Pulled me close. "Jess, I got you. Forever." Zelda had tears in her eyes. "Me too. I'm your best friend. No one's gonna hurt you. Not ever." Guess forever was just two years to them. Huh. I laughed. Hollow sound. Opened my drawer. Grabbed the bottle of painkillers for my phantom leg. Dumped them in my mouth. Handful after handful. Until nothing was left. But the pain just kept coming. I tasted blood. Footsteps pounded outside. Someone screamed. "JESS!" Next second, everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, I was in a hospital bed. Troy sat next to me, looking exhausted. But when he saw I was awake, he didn't ask if I was okay. He just frowned, annoyed. "Jess, can you stop being so dramatic? You know what happened when Zelda saw you like that? She passed out. She's still getting fluids next door." "Your life matters, but hers doesn't? It's been a MONTH. How long are you gonna keep pulling this sh!t?" I opened my mouth to speak. The door flew open. Zelda stormed in, glaring at Troy. "Who do you think you're talking to? You got a death wish?" Troy's whole face changed. Softened. His voice went gentle, careful. "Are you feeling better? You should rest more. I can handle things here." Zelda snapped back. "You? Handle what exactly?" She walked over to me. When she saw how pale I was, her eyes filled with tears. "You idi0t. Why would you do that? I told you—you still have me. I'm your best friend. Talk to me." I smiled. Cold. Zelda didn't notice. She kept going. "Jess, you've been through so much. Maybe you've got bad energy or something. I bought you this karma bracelet to help clear—" "Get out." She froze. Just hearing "karma bracelet" made my blood boil. Everything she did. Every disgusting thing flashed through my mind. I shoved her. Hard. Grabbed whatever was near me and threw it at them. "GET OUT. I don't want to see you. EVER AGAIN." Zelda stumbled back. Something hit her face. She clutched it, shaking all over. Troy finally snapped. He shoved me. I lost my balance. My lower back slammed into the edge of the table. Pain shot through me, blacking out my vision. Before I could even recover, Troy had already pulled Zelda behind him. His voice turned to ice. "Jess, ENOUGH. Zelda doesn't owe you a d@mn thing. She's not your dog. You don't get to hit her or scream at her whenever you feel like it. What gives you the right?" Maybe he was panicking. Maybe he just stopped caring. Those words slipped out so easily. It gutted me. I'd seen this exact scene before. When we first started dating, I used to bring Zelda lunch every single day. I was worried she wasn't eating enough. One time I bvrned my hand pretty badly. Troy got pissed. "Zelda, Zelda... You're not her servant. Why do you revolve around her?" When I gave him a look, he backtracked fast. Wrapped his arms around me, acting all sweet. "Babe, I just don't want you getting hurt. I'd feel terrible. Plus, you're always worried about her. Makes me jealous." Now the person he worried wasn't me anymore. It was her. I must've looked like I was about to collapse, because Zelda tried to rush over. "Jess, don't listen to him. I'm fine. You're just upset. I get it." But Troy held her back. Wouldn't let her anywhere near me. He paused. Then spoke again, quieter. Almost begging. "Jess. Please. Zelda had a fever yesterday. You scared her so bad she fainted today. Just... let her rest. Okay?" Then he grabbed Zelda's hand. Turned around. Walked out. I doubled over. Started dry heaving. The pain in my ch//est mixed with the pain in my body until I couldn't tell them apart anymore. After they left, I pulled out my phone. Opened the home security app. Troy had installed cameras back when he used to travel for work and I got scared staying home alone. The feed loaded. There they were. The second they got inside, Troy pulled Zelda into his arms. His hands slid down her body. Zelda twisted away, playing coy. Troy's eyes were bloodshot. "Stop. I've been holding back for a whole d@mn month. I miss you." Zelda buried her face in his shoulder. "But Jess is still in the hospital. We can't—" He didn't answer. Just pressed her hard against the wall and started moving. It didn't take long before Zelda stopped resisting. She grabbed his tie and kissed him. The sounds coming through my phone made me sick. Tears just ran down my face. Everything blurred. But the memories wouldn't stop flooding back. Every sweet moment we'd had. Every promise he'd made. I remembered how hard Troy fought to marry me. Once, someone spiked his drink at a business event. Heavy stuff. When the drvg kicked in, he didn't touch anyone. He grabbed a knife and cut himself over and over. Used the pain to stay conscious. Spent the whole night in a freezing bath rather than go near anyone who came onto him. Afterward, he held me and swore, "Jess, I'll never touch anyone but you. This life. Only you." I believed him. And Zelda? She was supposed to be my salvation. Freshman year during a rafting trip, I fell into the water. She jumped in without thinking twice and pulled me out. Junior year, my parents died in a plane crash. Overnight, I went from trust fund kid to orphan. It was Zelda who took me in. Stayed up with me every single night. I gave her everything I had. Treated her like a sister. I don't understand what I did wrong. Why she had to steal both my husbands. I don't understand why Troy—who swore he'd love me forever—changed just like Aaron did. The next day, Troy came to pick me up from the hospital. I didn't say anything. Didn't accuse him of anything. He grabbed my hand first and started apologizing. "Jess, I didn't mean to snap at you yesterday. I just didn't want you to push Zelda away like that. She might get hurt and leave you. You don't want to lose your best friend, right?" I pulled my hand back. Cold. My eyes landed on the center console. There was a cake sitting there—my favorite flavor. For a second, my heart lifted. I reached for it. Troy pressed down on my wrist. His tone was firm. "Don't. That's for Zelda." He paused. Then added, softer, "If you want some, I'll get you one tomorrow." I pulled my hand back slowly. Right. Even a piece of cake wasn't mine anymore. When we got home, I said I needed the bathroom. Pushed the door open. Saw a pregnancy test on the counter. My ch//est caved in. I can't have kids anymore. Which means it's Zelda's. Is it Troy's baby? I opened the camera app on my phone. Pulled up the video feed. Zelda's voice came through, shaking. "Troy, how can I be pregnant? Jess just lost the ability to have kids. How can I do this to her? I'm such a terrible friend." Troy wrapped his arms tight around her. "This isn't your fault. It's ours. It's fate. Jess can't have children. This is my only shot at being a father." Silence. Then Zelda grabbed his hand. "Will you marry me? I can't keep being nobody to you. I know it's wrong. I know it'll hurt Jess. But we can make it up to her some other way." Long pause. Troy's voice came out quiet. "I don't know, Zelda..." My ch//est went completely numb. All the pain peaked. Then went silent. At dinner that night, I looked straight at them. "I saw the pregnancy test in the bathroom." Both of them froze solid. Zelda went ghost-white. Started stammering. "It's—it's a friend's. She accidentally left it here—" I laughed. Sharp. Bitter. "What friend? I don't know any of your friends. Who is she? Someone you're hiding from me?" I paused. My eyes slid over to Troy, whose face had gone dark. My voice turned ice-cold. "A pregnancy test left at someone else's house? What is she, some kind of mistress? Honestly, Zelda, if your friend's mixed up in that kind of mess, you should drop her. Before she drags you down and embarrasses you." Zelda's face went completely white. Her whole body started shaking. Troy slammed his hand on the table and shot to his feet. "JESS, SHUT UP." He grabbed the plate in front of him and smashed it on the floor. Shards flew up. One sliced across my cheek. "She's your best friend. Even if you won't help her, how can you talk to her like that?!" Zelda grabbed his sleeve. Tears streaming down her face. "Troy, stop. Don't be mad. I'm fine. Don't blame Jess..." One of them furious and protective. The other fragile and pitiful. Like a pair of star-crossed lovers being torn apart by a villain. And I was the villain.

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“Congratulations.” I said it to Penelope Hayes, my husband’s latest favorite. She froze. The relatives gathered around to watch the spectacle fell silent. Today was a family gathering at the Croft estate. In front of everyone, my husband, Julian, had just announced that the hostess of this year’s Founders’ Gala would, once again, not be me—his wife of five years—but Penelope. All of Charleston society was waiting for my fifth annual breakdown. Waiting for me to scream and claw at my husband like a madwoman over the empty title of “Mrs. Croft.” But I only smiled. Because I had been waiting for this day, too. For five years. My brother, Liam, ever the pragmatist, had made a deal with me long ago. If Julian humiliated me like this for five years in a row, I had to pack my bags and go home with him. Tonight was the deadline. … My composure clearly stung Julian. He personally removed the sapphire earrings from my ears, then turned and fastened them onto Penelope. “These were always meant for her.” Then Penelope, right on cue, spilled a glass of red wine on me, her eyes waiting for me to lose my temper. I just brushed at the stain on my dress and smiled at her. “You’ll catch a chill in a wet dress. Should I have a maid bring you a shawl?” I saw Julian’s face darken. His little game of public humiliation had lost its power over me. He thought this was the fifth time he had successfully tamed the “wild mare” from Texas. He was wrong. This was never a test. This was the funeral I had prepared for him, and for the entire rotten Croft family. … I didn’t wait for Penelope to answer. I simply waved over a maid and even instructed her personally to use soda water and a white cloth to carefully treat the wine stains on Penelope’s hem. When it was done, I untied the cheap silk scarf Julian had tossed at me moments before as “compensation.” “And this,” I said, handing it to Penelope. “This color suits your dress much better.” I smiled, playing the part of the gracious hostess looking after her guest. Penelope clearly hadn’t expected that. For a moment, she was at a complete loss. Julian, however, frowned. His voice dropped. “Elara, who gave you permission to give away something I gave you?” I looked up at him. My voice wasn’t loud, but it carried through the silent living room. “She’s hardly a stranger.” I paused, my gaze sweeping over him and the “real” Charleston sweetheart at his side. “Isn’t she the hostess of the Croft family tonight?” For a moment, Julian had no answer. His eyes went dark, like the currents churning beneath a Lowcountry swamp. I stood. “Excuse me. I’m going upstairs to change.” I could feel Julian’s stare like a nail in my back all the way up the stairs. Only when the bedroom door clicked shut behind me did my chest tighten. After I changed, my phone vibrated on the vanity. An encrypted message. From my brother, Liam. “Five years, Elara. You lost the bet. Emergency plan activated. Come home.” I stared at the text. The nerve that had been stretched taut for five years finally snapped, and my eyes began to burn. I didn’t even have time to reply. A pair of cold hands settled on my waist. Julian pressed himself against my back, a low, satisfied laugh rumbling in his chest. “I knew you were faking it. If you really didn’t care, why would you be hiding in here crying?” I quickly blanked the screen before he could see the message. “I was just thinking about how ugly I’ve acted.” Looking back on the last five years, I had lost control so many times I barely recognized myself. He turned my face toward him and kissed my tears away, a punishing sort of kiss. His eyes were bright with the triumph of a man who believed he had finally broken something wild. “Now you know how you’ve embarrassed me for years.” He seemed to enjoy my vulnerability. His fingers traced my lips, ......

InactiveJun 28, 26 · 1d
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The interview was going perfectly until the door opened. "Your employer will see you now." I smoothed my skirt and walked into the penthouse living room. A little girl sat on a massive white sofa, her legs dangling. She had big brown eyes and a chocolate stain on her chin. Cute. Then I looked up at the man standing behind her. My heart stopped. Ethan Cole. Six-foot-two. Sharp jaw. Cold gray eyes that I had once memorized in the dark. My ex-husband. The man who married me in a courthouse on a Tuesday and served me divorce papers on a Thursday — three years ago. He looked at me like I was a stranger. No. He looked at me like I was furniture. His gaze swept over me once, then returned to the tablet in his hand. "You're the candidate from the agency?" His voice was flat. Professional. Zero recognition. My blood ran cold. He didn't remember me. We were married for eleven months. I changed his bandages after his car accident. I sat in the hospital for six days straight. I signed the divorce papers while still wearing my wedding ring. And he didn't remember me. "Yes," I said. My voice didn't shake. I wouldn't let it. "I'm Lily Morgan. I'm here for the live-in nanny position." The little girl tugged his sleeve. "Daddy, she's pretty. I want her." Ethan didn't react. He swiped through his tablet. "It says here you have a degree in early childhood education. Why are you applying for a nanny job?" Because I'm broke. Because my mother's medical bills ate through everything. Because three years after our divorce, I'm sleeping on my best friend's couch and pretending I'm fine. "I prefer hands-on work with children," I said. He finally looked at me. Really looked. His eyes narrowed for half a second. My pulse spiked. Did he recognize me? Did something click? "Fine," he said. "One-month trial. Ruby is five. She doesn't sleep well. She bites when she's angry. She's fired four nannies in three months." Ruby grinned at me with all her baby teeth. "I bite hard." "I've dealt with worse," I said, holding Ethan's gaze. He stared back. Something flickered in those gray eyes, but it vanished before I could name it. "Mrs. Park will show you to your room. You start tonight." He left without another word. His footsteps echoed down the marble hallway. I exhaled so hard my ribs hurt. Three years. I had spent three years erasing Ethan Cole from my life. New city. New name — I went back to my maiden name. New everything. And now I was living in his house. Raising his daughter. A daughter I knew nothing about. We were married for eleven months. He never mentioned a child. Ruby was five, which meant she was born... I did the math twice. She was born while we were still married. The room tilted. I grabbed the back of the sofa. Ruby looked up at me. "Are you okay, Miss Lily?" No, I was not okay. Because either Ethan Cole had a child he hid from me during our entire marriage — or Ruby's mother was someone he was with while he was sleeping next to me. Mrs. Park appeared at the door. "This way, Ms. Morgan." I picked up my suitcase. My hands were steady. My heart was not. As I followed Mrs. Park down the hall, I passed a row of framed photos. Ethan in a suit. Ethan at a charity gala. Ethan holding baby Ruby in a hospital room. I stopped at the last one. In the photo, Ruby was a newborn. Ethan was holding her, and there was a woman's hand resting on his arm. The photo was cropped. You couldn't see her face. But I recognized the bracelet on her wrist. It was mine. That was my hand. ================================

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