Claimed By The Alpha And His Father

　　"W-what?" I stammered with the phone pressed to my ear, my eyes wide, my hand shaking. The words were repeated, but I couldn't hear them because of a loud ringing in my head, like bells going off, which drowned them out.

　　Natasha was back. Natasha James was back.

　　I shouldn't be this worried. I shouldn't be shaking. I should be brushing the situation off with a laugh, saying I was the one married to him, not she. That she was his past, and it was his present, his future, but this was Natasha James, Richard's first love, and if I dare say, his only love.

　　Richard swore he had gotten over her, that if he hadn't, he wouldn't have married me, but we both knew that was a lie. The only reason I was answering his name was that it was his duty to marry me. He married because of duty, while I married for love, and for the past three years, I've felt that.

　　And coupled with the fact that I couldn't give him a child…

　　I ended the call and slowly moved to the nearest chair, dropping down onto it.

　　"It's okay," I muttered to myself. "It's okay. You're okay."

　　Nothing was okay.

　　Richard stopped coming home. He stopped picking up my calls, and when I asked, he would say he was at work. Just that single word, with no other explanation.

　　It hurts. God, it hurts so bad. But I chose to overlook it, telling myself that he was my husband and that he would come back to me.

　　But Richard crossed the line.

　　I was sitting in the garden when I heard his car roll in. I was immediately on my feet, a wild smile on my face, moving to the entrance as my heart raced.

　　Finally! It has been a long while since I saw him.

　　I picked up my pace, almost running, but my step slowed down when I heard laughter, my smile dropping. One voice stood out to me: a female's.

　　I picked up the pace again, and I finally reached the entrance, but what I saw made my heart drop.

　　There he was, Richard, in his suit, his hair styled perfectly, and on his arms was Natasha. Her hand was hooked on his, and their bodies were pressed tight. So tight, there was barely any space between them.

　　"Oh, Richard," Natasha chuckled, placing her hand on my husband's chest, and I watched as that husband did nothing.

　　I watched her, Natasha James, the perfect girl, blonde hair that glowed in the sun, blue eyes that caught the light, long legs, and a body that men would kill for.

　　I stood there, unmoving, my mouth opening, but no words came out.

　　They finally noticed me.

　　Richard was the first to do so, and when he did, he pulled away from Natasha as if her touch burned him, staring at me.

　　"Isabella," he called, his eyes wide. "Uhm… hey."

　　"Hey?" I repeated in a whisper, my chest tight to the point of pain. "Richard, 'hey' is all you have to say to me?"

　　He opened his mouth, but before he could speak a word, Natasha jumped in front of him, blocking my view of him.

　　"Isabella!" she gushed, like she was seeing a long-lost friend, smiling so wide it looked like her lips were going to tear, but that smile was nowhere near her eyes. "Oh my God, look at you! You look so well! Richard must be taking good care of you!"

　　I stared at her, opening my mouth. "I–"

　　"So I hope you don't mind," she cut me off before the word was even out of my mouth, stepping back and grabbing Richard's arm. "I asked him to invite me to dinner. It's just been so long we caught up, right?"

　　"I should have told you first," Richard said, still letting her hold his arm. "But she's already here, so let's enjoy dinner together. Is that fine?"

　　"Richard, how–"

　　"Of course, she's fine!" Natasha spoke, once again, cutting me off. "This is sweet Isabella. Come on, Richard. Let's have that steak you've been telling me about. I'm literally salivating right now!"

　　And so she tugged him towards the house, and Richard followed without a single glance back, holding her hand that was still on his arm. I turned away quickly when I saw him wrap his arm around her waist.

　　I didn't go to dinner.

　　After that day, I didn't see Richard for a whole week, so I decided to pay him a visit. I made lunch and packed it, excited that I was going to see him again, even though a part of me was still upset about what he did.

　　I dressed up and applied a bit of makeup so it wouldn't seem like I was trying too hard or make me look bland.

　　During the ride to his office, my hands were glued together, fidgeting, and when I finally got there, I didn't step out of my car. I stayed still, working on my breath. Then finally, I stepped out. And as soon as I did, I noticed the eyes on me, the uncomfortable glances, the nervous ones, but I didn't pay them any mind and went straight to his office. When I got to his front desk, his assistant there immediately jumped to her feet, a tight smile on her face.

　　"Mrs. Ashford," she greeted, her smile growing tighter.

　　"Hello, Sandra. I'm here to see my husband."

　　She nodded quickly, swallowing. "Uhm… yes. Of course. Mr. Ashford is occupied at the moment, ma'am, so I'll ask that you wait."

　　That made my back straighten, and my eyes narrowed. "Sandra, I'm here to see my husband," I repeated slowly.

　　"He's in a meeting, ma'am," she answered quickly, too quickly.

　　"Then, I'll wait in his office."

　　"You can't!" she yelled, but I was already moving towards his office. "Ma'am, please!"

　　My heart was racing as I marched to his office, and when I threw his doors open, my worst fear became reality.

　　Richard was in his office, and his assistant lied, but that wasn't what made my heart drop, and my eyes sting.

　　No. It was Natasha.

　　She was in his office, and not just anywhere, but on his lap, her shirt buttons undone.