Chapter 6: I Confronted That Woman

Elena's POV

The moment Mia saw the call connect, she pressed a finger to her lips — a sharp signal for me to stay quiet.

I understood. She wanted to hear the other person speak first.

The voice on the line came through impatient, clipped. "Who is this? Say something or I'm hanging up."

My heart dropped.

That voice. Why did it sound so familiar?

I was still reeling when Mia lost patience and shot me a look — ask her something, say anything.

"Stop making these pointless calls," She said.

The line went dead.

My heart was pounding so hard I could barely think. I couldn't bring myself to believe what I'd just heard.

Mia grabbed my arm, her face creased with worry. "Elena, what's wrong? Did that hurt you?"

The thing I had feared was already unfolding.

I gripped her hand. My eyes burned. The words came out in pieces.

"Mia — I know who she is now. I know."

"Lucas has been lying to me. He's been lying to me this whole time."

When Mia saw me cry, she pulled me into her arms without a word, rubbing slow circles on my back.

"Elena, please don't cry. It kills me when you cry."

"Lucas is the one in the wrong. He's a liar. A complete bastard."

"Elena — you know who she is, don't you? Tell me. We'll go find her together."

Mia's eyes were red at the rims. She took my hand and started pulling me forward — ready to march straight to that woman.

Then a tall, broad-shouldered figure stepped directly into our path.

Mia moved in front of me the instant she recognized him.

"Lucas. What are you doing here?"

Lucas?

I scrubbed the tears from my face and looked up. The man blocking our way was, without a doubt, Lucas.

Hadn't he left for work? What was he doing here, right now, in front of me?

I didn't want Mia dragged into this because of me. Lucas was untouchable in this city — a god among men — and crossing him would cost her far more than it would cost me. Getting on his bad side would be as easy to arrange and as effortless to survive as crushing a worm underfoot. For him, anyway.

I quickly pulled Mia back, catching her eye and giving a small, firm shake of my head.

She was furious. Aching to fight. But she understood the reality of our position — we couldn't take Lucas head-on. She turned away, jaw tight, swallowing the anger. I understood her. And I ached for everything she had already endured just to protect me.

"Elena — what's wrong with her?"

As Lucas stepped toward us, I moved first, crossing to meet him and taking his arm before he could get any closer to Mia.

"She and I had a little spat. She'll cool off."

I forced a light smile and looped my hand through his elbow, steering him in the opposite direction.

"Lucas, how did you even find me?"

"Your old phone was broken, so I had someone bring you a new one. When it arrived, the housekeeper said you'd gone out."

There were a thousand places I could have been. How had he narrowed it down so fast?

A cold thought slid in: a tracking app. He put one on my phone.

My scalp prickled.

Had my every move been in the palm of his hand this whole time?

"Lucas." I looked up at him, not quite able to keep the disbelief out of my voice. "Were you tracking me?"

He didn't flinch. Didn't look away. "I had a tracking app installed on your old phone. That's how I found you."

He must have caught something in my expression, because he added quickly, "I only did it because I worry about you. Don't read too much into it."

Don't read too much into it.

Once, I might have believed him. I might have told myself it was love — that he was just being protective, being careful with me.

But that was before.

Before I found out he had been seeing another woman behind my back. And now, on top of that, he'd been monitoring my location — tracking exactly where I went and when. Was it really concern for me? Or was it so he could always know where I was, dodge me when he needed to, and be with her without any risk of being caught?

Lucas stopped walking. He folded his arms around me, pulling me close.

"You know how much I love you," he murmured. "How could I ever bring myself to hurt you?"

"Lucas — I love you too."

I did love him. But I refused to be a fool. I wouldn't stand there being fed beautiful words and smile and believe every one of them.

When he leaned in to press a kiss to my forehead, I turned away as if I hadn't noticed, and gently stepped back.

I glanced over my shoulder at Mia and raised a hand. "I'll call you soon."

Her eyes were still red. The look she aimed at Lucas was something beyond anger — something darker, something that had no clean name for it.

She lifted her hand in return. "Elena. No matter what — I'm here."

It was such a simple thing to say. But my eyes burned anyway.

Maybe love has an expiration date. But I believe friendship is made of something sturdier — something that might actually last.

Thank God Mia was still here. I didn't want to think about what I'd do without her. Whether I'd break completely, or say something I couldn't take back, or simply collapse under the weight of this betrayal with no one to catch me.

After Lucas dropped me back at the house, he left for the office.

I didn't want anyone worrying about me. I didn't want Mia enduring more for my sake. And I was not willing to keep swallowing the hurt in silence.

I picked up the new phone Lucas had given me and called that woman.

The number was different now, but it didn't matter — because I already knew exactly who she was.

She picked up quickly. I didn't circle around it. I told her directly: meet me at my house. Now.

She didn't refuse. She said she'd be there within half an hour.

Of course she would. She knew this house better than she had any right to.

Less than thirty minutes later, she was standing in my living room.

I sent the housekeepers out. It was just the two of us.

I lifted my teacup and took a slow sip before I spoke.

"What exactly is your relationship with Lucas?"

She picked up her own cup with the same unhurried ease, her expression still carrying that same maddening arrogance.

"Lucas and I grew up together. You tell me — what does that make us?"

I set my cup down quietly, every movement measured and deliberate. The lady of this house, calm and composed, holding her ground.

"Childhood sweethearts — is that what you're trying to say? And so what? He married me. Whatever he feels, it's mine."

Something shifted in her face. She set her cup down hard.

"A wedding with just the two of you?" she said, voice dripping with contempt. "You call that a marriage? Has anyone — anyone — given you their blessing? Doesn't it ever occur to you that the reason Lucas won't introduce you to his family is because you're something he's ashamed of? Because you don't belong there?"

"Elena — you've been losing since the beginning. You just haven't figured it out yet."

"Do you know what? You will never carry Lucas's child. He will never take you to meet his family. Because you are simply not good enough."

That was the last word I was willing to let her have.

I picked up my teacup and flung the contents straight into her face.

"Shut your mouth. I will not lose to you. I will not lose to anyone."

"You want to make a bet? If I carry Lucas's child — if he takes me home to his family — what will you have left to say?"

The change in her was instant. The triumph, the aggression — gone. She crumpled, her face twisting into something wounded and pitiful, and she sank to the floor in tears.

"Elena — aren't you afraid of what Lucas will do when he finds out? He won't let this go. Not for a second."

A cold premonition hit me before I heard a sound.

Click. Click. Click.

The sharp, rhythmic tap of leather shoes on tile.

"Lucas?"

I said his name as though I still couldn't accept what my ears were telling me.

Lucas walked in. He glanced at the woman crumpled on the floor, and his brow drew together.

"Elena — what did you do to her?"