Chapter 4

But I was backed into a corner.

"I'm done running." My voice was eerily steady. "Tell me the truth, Dorian. Who do you really love?"

Dorian's expression changed completely, a coldness I'd never seen flashing in his eyes. "You want the truth?"

"Yes."

He stared at me for several seconds, as if weighing something.

Then his mouth curved into a cruel smile. "The truth? Yes, this house was built to Seraphina's design. Yes, we planned to live here together. So what?"

The words hit like a physical blow. "You... you're admitting it?"

"Admitting what? That I have a past?" His tone grew colder with each word. "Enough! Where will you go if you leave? Back to scraping by at your parents' place?"

I stumbled back, unable to believe what I was hearing. "What did you just say?"

"You and that baby—everything you have is because of me!" The mask had dropped completely, his voice sharp with contempt. "You should be grateful instead of throwing tantrums. Without me, you're nobody!"

My heart shattered. So this was how he saw me—a charity case. My love, my sacrifices, my pregnancy—all burdens.

"I don't want your charity!" I screamed. "I want a divorce!"

"Divorce?" He laughed mockingly, the sound echoing through the empty room. "What will you use to raise the kid? Your parents' wages? Those freelance gigs you call a career?"

Every word was a poison arrow aimed at my most vulnerable spots. My background, my work, everything I'd built—all a joke to him.

"I'm done with this." I turned toward the stairs, trembling. I needed to get away from this monster.

"You're not walking away from this!" He grabbed my arm roughly, hard enough to hurt. "We're settling this now!"

"Let go of me!" I yanked my arm free.

In that instant, I lost my balance.

Time froze. I felt myself falling backward, Seraphina's marble steps rushing toward me. These cold stones, once elegant decoration, now looked like an open maw.

My lower back slammed against the staircase edge. Searing pain shot through me, radiating from my spine to my abdomen.

No, no, no!

"My baby..." I clutched my stomach, feeling warmth trickling down my leg. "Save my baby..."

Dorian's face changed instantly. He rushed forward, but I pushed him away. The pain made standing impossible. I could only curl up on the cold marble.

"Someone call 911!" I sobbed. "Call 911!"

Ten minutes later, sirens cut through the night. The stretcher's bouncing made everything worse. I gripped the paramedic's hand. "Please, save my baby..."

"We'll do everything we can, ma'am." The nurse tried to comfort me, but I saw the worry in her eyes.

In the ER, doctors rushed around me. I was wheeled into the operating room, overhead lights blindingly bright. Anesthesia made my consciousness fuzzy, but the fear only grew sharper.

When I woke, the doctor stood by my bed. His expression as he removed his mask told me everything.

"I'm very sorry. We did everything we could. The fetus couldn't be saved."

Everything shattered.

My baby. My five-month-old baby. I'd felt him move. I'd picked out his name—Lucas. I'd imagined what he'd look like, his first word.

Now there was nothing.

"I need to be alone." My voice came out hoarse, tears streaming silently.

The doctor nodded and left. The room felt cavernous with just me facing this enormous emptiness.

No, wait.

A familiar voice drifted from the hallway. Dorian, on the phone:

"What? Online rumors about you being a homewrecker again? ...Don't worry, I'm coming over now."

My heart plunged into an abyss. I'd just lost our child, and he was worried about Seraphina's reputation?

The doctor returned, catching the end of Dorian's conversation. He stared at him in shock. "Sir, your wife just lost your child..."

Dorian glanced at me impatiently, like I was a burden. "I'll handle the bills. Valentina, rest. Seraphina needs me. Her career can't be damaged by rumors."

I reached out weakly. "Dorian... our baby..."

But he was already turning away. "We can try again."

The door closing sounded like a coffin lid slamming shut.

I'd lost everything. My child, my marriage, my dignity, even hope—he'd crushed it all.

That night, I didn't sleep.

I lay on the cold bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling the vast emptiness inside.

Five-month-old Lucas would never kick again, would never call me mama.

Morning came, sunlight painfully bright.

My phone buzzed. A text.

Sender: Dorian

"My assistant handled the paperwork. Seraphina says maybe this is for the best. We're still young. There'll be other opportunities. Take care."

I stared at the cold words, fingers trembling.

Seraphina said this was for the best?

Even losing our child needed Seraphina's approval?

I wanted to laugh but couldn't. I wanted to cry, but tears had dried up.

I sat up slowly, reaching for the mirror. The woman in the reflection looked haggard, but something burned in her eyes.

Not sadness. Not despair.

Cold, razor-sharp resolve.

I picked up my phone, deleted Dorian's message, then scrolled to a number I hadn't used in ages.

Divorce attorney. Marcus Knight.

Two rings, then: "Knight Law Offices."

"Marcus, it's Valentina Reyes." My voice was unnaturally calm.

A pause. "Valentina? God, are you okay? I heard about... your baby..."

"I need your help." I cut him off.

"Of course. You want a divorce?"

"Not just a divorce." I walked to the window, gazing at the brightly lit mansion in the distance, eyes glinting coldly. "I want them to pay. Every last price."

Marcus's voice turned serious. "I understand your anger, but the law requires evidence. Emotional infidelity is difficult to..."

"Evidence?" I laughed softly, my voice carrying a chilling edge. "That's exactly what I'm going to get."