Chapter 3

"Daddy!"

Before I could slam the miscarriage report down on the table, Sophie came running.

She bypassed me entirely, throwing her arms around Dominic's leg.

"Daddy, Mommy said this is going to be my home from now on, and I get to sleep in that pretty room forever, right?"

Gemma's face went pale. She rushed forward, putting on a show of scolding the child not to talk nonsense.

I stared at Dominic, watching intently to see which side he'd choose.

He didn't even spare me a glance.

Avoiding my eyes entirely, Dominic gently ruffled the top of Sophie's head with his large hand.

"Of course. This is your home now, and everything in that room belongs to you."

In that moment, I finally understood. I was nothing more than a breeding tool, replaceable at any given moment.

I rose to my feet, crushing the miscarriage report I hadn't gotten the chance to show him tightly in my palm.

Dominic noticed the movement.

He seized my wrist, brows furrowed, his eyes carrying the warning of a man used to absolute authority.

"Stella, you're being unreasonable. Don't embarrass me."

Three years, spent as the canary he kept in his penthouse cage out of gratitude—and this was the payoff.

I wrenched my hand free, crumpling the paper in my fist, and turned to walk into the master bedroom.

Dragging out a massive suitcase, I began mechanically sweeping my belongings into it.

Dominic followed me in, locking the door behind him.

Watching my movements, his tone was laced with utter irritation.

"What are you throwing a fit about now? Sophie is sick. What Gemma and I said was just to soothe her!"

The room fell into dead silence.

Realizing he might have pushed too hard, he sighed and tried to walk over to embrace me, offering his promise like alms to a beggar.

"Stop sulking. I'll try to consider your feelings more from now on, alright?"

I turned my body, dodging him.

His hand froze mid-air, his face etched with shock.

Right then, Gemma's voice drifted in from outside the door.

"Dom, Sophie says she can't fall asleep unless Daddy tucks her in. Can you come?"

Dominic's brow furrowed.

In the end, he withdrew his outstretched hand.

"Calm down for a bit. I'll go settle the kid."

As he walked toward the door, his peripheral vision caught the crumpled paper clutched tight in my fist.

"What's that you're holding? A medical report?"

I looked at him.

I suddenly felt that using the horror of my miscarriage to buy a fleeting moment of his guilt was utterly disgusting.

Right in front of him, I tore the blood-stained D&C report into shreds and tossed it into the trash bin.

"It's nothing. Just some garbage that shouldn't exist."

Dominic glanced at me once, then turned and walked out.

The instant the door clicked shut, my legs gave out, and I slid down along the edge of the bed onto the floor.

By now, I couldn't even summon the energy to feel disappointed anymore.

I'd only packed half my bags when the aftershocks of the hemorrhage crashed over me like a tidal wave.

My vision went black, and I passed out cold.

When I woke, it was already the next morning.

Forcing my drained, hollowed-out body down the hallway, I found Dominic sitting in the dining room, spoon-feeding Sophie organic oatmeal.

Sophie clapped her hands, urging him on. "Daddy, I'm full! You and Mommy hurry up and take me to get our wedding photos taken!"

The spoon in Dominic's hand froze violently in mid-air.

Gemma scrambled to her feet, explaining frantically to me. "Stella, it's just a story from a picture book. Sophie misunderstood. We only pretended to agree so she'd calm down..."

"Why 'pretended'!"

Sophie burst into loud sobs, pointing at them. "Daddy said last night that you two love each other the most and would be together forever!"

Dominic didn't look at me.

He knelt down immediately, personally kissing Sophie's forehead, his voice softening into a coo.

"Mommy was just joking. Of course we love each other. There, there, don't cry. Tomorrow I'll buy you a princess doll."

I stood before the towering floor-to-ceiling window, watching this absurd scene unfold.

I finally saw my position in this house with perfect clarity.

Before heading out the door to the office, Dominic stood in the foyer, adjusting his tie as he spoke to me.

"I left you the card, spend whatever you want. Once next month's wedding is over, I'll take you to Aspen for our honeymoon skiing trip."

I said nothing.

I simply watched him quietly, then closed the door.

The door was thick, but I still heard Gemma's probing question from outside.

"Dom, Stella was packing her bags last night. She's not actually planning to leave, is she?"

Dominic laughed, dismissive and utterly certain.

"Impossible."

"Her family went bankrupt. She didn't even finish college. How would she survive without me?"

"She's madly in love with me. Three years in, she's long since gotten used to depending on me. She'll throw a tantrum for a few days, then fall back in line on her own."

Standing behind that door, I listened to him treat my gratitude and love as chips to be trampled on at his whim.

The last flickering illusion in my heart burned to ash.

I turned around, wheeling my suitcase out the door.

Pulling out my phone, I contacted the most brutal demolition crew in Manhattan.

Ten minutes later, I pointed at that hundred-thousand-dollar nursery and issued my command, ice-cold.

"Smash it all. Don't even leave the paint on the walls."

To the thunderous roar of sledgehammers shattering the rocking horse, I walked into the elevator without once looking back.