Today was our third wedding anniversary. I'd cooked a homemade dinner and called my husband that evening, but the line was busy. Every time. By midnight, the food on the table had gone cold, and he still wasn't home. Maybe it was the waiting getting to me, because a sudden, sharp pain twisted through my stomach.

Then my phone rang—his ringtone. I grabbed it. “Where have you been? Why weren't you picking up?” I asked, panic already creeping into my voice.

His voice was cold. Distant. “Pack your bags and find somewhere else to stay for a while.”

I froze, panic licking up my spine. I didn't understand. Why would he want me to leave? “Did something happen?” I asked instinctively.

“Leilani's back. She doesn't like staying in hotels,” he said coolly.

The name Leilani Olson made my heart stutter. I'd never met her, but I knew my husband, Carlos Richards, had been in love with her for ten years.

Outside, the rain was coming down harder, and the pain in my abdomen sharpened. “Now?” I gripped the phone tighter and stared at the lightning flashing outside the window. It hurt to breathe. “But today is our…”

“Yes. Now.”

The words “wedding anniversary” sat on the tip of my tongue, but Carlos cut me off, impatient, and hung up. Once he made up his mind, there was no negotiating.

Trembling, I got up and drank a big mug of warm coffee. By the time I'd packed through the pain, the taxi I'd ordered was already outside.

“Miss, you okay?” the driver asked, concerned, as he got out to help with my luggage.

I managed a small shake of my head. “Thanks, I'm—”

Before I could finish, a sharp pain tore through my abdomen and brought me to my knees.

At the hospital, I lay in bed with an IV in my arm. “You're eleven weeks pregnant,” the doctor said, holding the test results, his face serious. “But you're dangerously fatigued, and the pregnancy is at risk. The pain you had today was a warning. If you want to keep this baby, I'd recommend admitting you for observation.”

I stared down at my belly, stunned. We'd used protection every time. But a little over two months ago, he'd been drunk, and I'd driven him home. Just once. In the car. And now I was carrying his child.

“Where's the father? It would be best if he could bring you something to eat. After the IV, you'll need to eat something,” the doctor advised.

I opened my mouth to answer, then closed it. This baby had come out of nowhere. How would Carlos react if he knew? Would he even want to keep it?

After the doctor left, I wrestled with it for a long time. Finally, I decided to tell Carlos.

He picked up quickly.

“Carlos…”

“Carlos is in the shower. Who's this?” a woman's sweet voice answered. “I'll let him know to call you back.”

It was the first time I'd heard Leilani's voice. He'd brought her home already. So quickly.

“Is it for me?” Carlos's deep voice came through. He must have taken the phone from her, because when he spoke again, his tone was cold. “What is it?”

Even with the heat turned up in my room, I felt chilled to the bone. “I…” The words I'd rehearsed lodged in my throat. “I'm pregnant” was harder to say than I'd imagined.

I took a deep breath, gathering my courage, when Leilani screamed on the other end. “Ah!”

“Leilani, what happened?” I'd never heard Carlos sound so panicked.

“I tried to peel some fruit for you and cut my hand…” Her voice was full of practiced helplessness.

“Does it hurt? Let's get you to a hospital!” Concern bled into Carlos's voice before the call cut off.

The phone slipped from my hand onto the bed. I clutched the sheets, my chest so tight I could barely breathe. Three years of marriage, and I still hadn't managed to touch his heart. How ironic was that?

An hour later, I checked myself out and left the hospital alone, dragging my suitcase behind me.

The elevator stopped on the third floor.

“You insisted on dragging me here for something a Band-Aid could fix,” a woman pouted as the doors slid open.

I looked up instinctively—and met Carlos's dark eyes. Beside him stood a petite, pretty woman holding his arm, her face glowing.

They looked perfect together. I didn't need to ask. It was Leilani.

The faint smile on Carlos's face vanished the second he saw me, replaced by that familiar indifference.

“Carlos, hurry up and get in!” Leilani called, pressing the door-open button and smiling sweetly as she motioned him inside.

Carlos stepped in and narrowed his eyes at me. With just the three of us in that elevator, discomfort crawled over my skin.

Part of me wanted to know if Leilani could still smile at me if she knew about my relationship with Carlos. But I didn't dare. Even if Carlos didn't love me, I couldn't bear the thought of him hating me completely.

The one-minute ride felt like a year. When the doors finally opened on the ground floor, I hurried out—only to hear Carlos call after me. “Hold on.”

His voice was deep and magnetic, but there was no warmth in it—nothing like the way he spoke to Leilani. Some people only ever love once in their lives. Carlos loved Leilani. I loved Carlos.

“Leilani, wait for me in the car,” he said softly, handing her the keys before stepping out after me.

As the doors slid shut, I caught Leilani's expression—shock, anger, and reluctance. She'd guessed who I was.

Carlos's brow furrowed. “What are you doing at the hospital?” he asked coldly.

I forced myself to stop and answer casually. “Visiting a friend.”

“At this hour? With luggage?” His tone sharpened, and he let out a cynical laugh. “Adele, your lies are getting more pathetic.”

To him, I'd always been manipulative and deceitful. He'd been forced into marrying me. Our families were bound by an alliance, and when my family was on the brink of bankruptcy three years ago, I went to Carlos's grandfather and asked him to make Carlos marry me.

Carlos hadn't wanted to. But his grandfather pressured him for the family's honor, leaving him no choice. I became his wife—and the obstacle between him and Leilani.

I loved him with a devotion that humiliated me. He hated me with everything he had.

“Still not going to tell me the truth?” Displeasure hardened his handsome face, his voice dropping dangerously low. “If you want something, just ask. Stop playing games.”

He'd only stopped me to talk because he was worried I might hurt his one true love. Carlos, I want you to love me. I want to bring our child into this world. But you'll never be able to give me that.

My nose stung. I looked at him for a long moment, then said, my voice hoarse, “I want a divorce.”

Carlos's brow furrowed, his gaze growing colder by the second. "Adele, do you have any idea what happens to people who try to threaten me?"

I could see he was angry—but I couldn't understand why. Shouldn't he be relieved that I was willing to divorce him and let him be with Leilani? Maybe he thought I was playing games again.

I pushed my feelings down and met his gaze, my expression calm. "If you have time, we can head to the courthouse first thing tomorrow and finalize the paperwork."

I thought I was offering him the most sincere compromise I could. Walking away from a man who would never love me was the best way to protect both me and the baby.

At my words, Carlos's eyes narrowed. He gripped my chin hard. His dark eyes were full of contempt, his voice edged with sarcasm. "Adele, you think too highly of yourself. You're nothing more than a pawn your family sold to mine. Whether you stay or go is up to me."

When I married Carlos, his family had paid mine a substantial marriage settlement, cementing a long-standing alliance between our families. I understood his unspoken threat. Without his family's support, mine would struggle to stay afloat.

His phone rang—probably Leilani, anxious for him to come back. Carlos shot me one last look, jaw tight, and walked out without a backward glance.

The storm was still raging when I stood at the hospital entrance, with no idea where to go. I breathed in deep and looked down at my belly. Don't worry, baby. No matter what, Mommy's going to bring you into this world safe and sound.

By the time the taxi dropped me at my parents' house, it was well past midnight, and the whole place was asleep. Mrs. Walker, the housekeeper, woke with a start and looked me up and down with thinly veiled disdain. "Adele, what brings you home at this hour?"

Too exhausted to explain, I just handed her my suitcase. "Go back to sleep," I whispered. "You can move it to my room in the morning."

I yawned and started for the stairs, but Mrs. Walker hurried to stop me. "Adele, Siena turned your room into an art studio for herself."

The words landed like a slap. We had plenty of spare rooms. Mrs. Walker's tone dripped with fake sympathy. "Don't be upset, Adele. You're a married woman now—who would've thought you'd show up with luggage in the middle of the night? If we set up a new room now, the noise will wake Mr. and Mrs. Tucker. Why don't you crash in my room for the night?"

I smiled to myself. She wouldn't dare treat me this way without Siena's blessing.

"No need," I said calmly, and headed for the living room couch instead.

Rain battered the windows all night. By dawn, it was my father who woke me.

"Adele, why are you sleeping on the sofa?" He frowned and turned on Mrs. Walker. "Why didn't you prepare a room for her?"

Caught under his stare, Mrs. Walker stammered out an excuse.

Siena's soft voice drifted down from the stairs. "It's not Mrs. Walker's fault, Dad. It's mine. I turned Adele's room into my art studio because it was convenient."

She hurried down, her face full of apology. "I didn't mean any harm, Adele. If you're planning to stay, just let me know. You're welcome to my room."

The irony almost made me laugh. This was my childhood home.

"I plan on staying for a while," I said evenly. "Please have my room restored."

Siena's smile flickered, but she agreed quickly.

Dad looked like he wanted to say something. I knew he was wondering why I'd shown up out of the blue. My troubled marriage to Carlos—and the baby growing inside me—were complications I wasn't ready to explain.

I took a steadying breath. "Dad, if I wanted to divorce Carlos, would you support me?"

He hesitated, worry etched into his face. "Adele, what's going on?"

I shook my head, and he didn't push. Instead, he handed me a cup of coffee, his voice tinged with regret. "Adele, we were wrong back then. If you're unhappy with the Richards, come home. Whatever you decide, I'll support you."

His words warmed something in my chest. After unpacking, I checked on my mother. Her anxiety usually kept her sleeping late. Standing outside her half-closed door, I heard her voice, sharp with irritation.

"If we hadn't adopted her, she never would've lived such a privileged life! Divorce? Does she have any sense of gratitude?"

My father sighed. "Adopted or not, we raised Adele as our own for twenty years. If she hadn't negotiated with Carlos's family back then, we would've gone bankrupt."

My mother's voice rose with indignation. "How is marrying into a wealthy family a sacrifice? It's a dream for plenty of women. Don't forget, Siena is our flesh and blood! After everything she endured out there before she came home last year, we owe it to her to make up for lost time!"

"I know we need to make it up to Siena, but Adele is clearly unhappy..." My father's voice trailed off as my mother cut him off. "Enough! We can't lose the Richards' support now. We raised her for twenty years—she can repay us this way!"

A heaviness settled over my chest. I was their adopted daughter; Siena, their biological daughter, had gone missing at three. I had been grateful to be loved by them, to receive the best care. But since Siena came back, everything had changed.

I didn't want to hear another word, so I left for the Richards' company. When I walked into my office, my assistant Helen brought me coffee, looking hesitant.

"Go ahead," I prompted. She'd been with me for years, ever since she'd followed me from my family's company.

"A new female design director's been appointed—apparently Carlos chose her himself," Helen said, putting pointed emphasis on female.

I froze, then connected the dots fast. "Was her name Leilani Olson?"

"Yes. Do you know her?" Helen's voice hinted at something more. "She seems innocent, but to get on Carlos's good side, she must be cunning."

Carlos had brought his mistress into the company. Only Leilani could make him act this openly. I lowered my gaze, hiding the smile tugging at my lips. "I see. You can go now."

Lack of sleep and a morning buried in paperwork had worn me down. After lunch, I found myself rushing to the restroom, fighting nausea.

"Are you all right?" someone at the sink asked, offering me a tissue. I took it and glanced up—into Leilani's face, pure as a daisy.

She’d spotted me. Her sharp eyes swept over me with something close to amused contempt.

“I’m Leilani. We met at the hospital last night.”

“Uh-huh,” I replied coolly, fixing my makeup and hair in the mirror.

Leilani had started the conversation, but I couldn’t get a read on her angle. Still, I’d heard enough warnings from other people to know she was no innocent.

After Carlos married me, he’d sent Leilani abroad to study. She’d supposedly accepted that the man she loved had chosen someone else—yet here she was, happily playing the other woman. I almost had to admire the audacity.

I gave her a dismissive once-over and turned to leave.

“I’m pregnant with Carlos’s child,” she announced proudly from behind me.

I whipped around. The innocence vanished from her face, replaced by a sinister smile. “Adele, you’ve been Mrs. Richards for three years. Now I’ve come back to claim what’s mine.”

For a second, the irony in her words knocked me off balance—and almost amused me.

Leilani had only returned last night. If she really was carrying Carlos’s child, then they’d never cut ties these past three years. Carlos’s last overseas trip had been two months ago. Somehow—absurdly—we were both pregnant by the same man at the same time.

A laugh slipped out before I could stop it. “From the sound of your voice, Miss Olson, you still haven’t grasped your position as the other woman. The child you’re carrying has a name—illegitimate.”

“Who are you calling the other woman?” Leilani’s cool façade cracked, and she jabbed a finger at me. “Adele, if you hadn’t interfered, Carlos would have married me! I’m the one who should have been Mrs. Richards. You took it all from me!”

“Do you honestly believe that if I hadn’t been in the picture, Carlos would have married you?” I asked calmly, aiming straight for the soft spot. “Do you think his grandfather would let a maid’s daughter into the family—especially when that maid is serving time for theft?”

Because I loved Carlos, I’d dug up every detail of Leilani’s past.

Leilani’s mother, Jenna Olson, had been the housekeeper for Carlos’s family for twenty years. Carlos’s mother had died young, and he’d been deeply attached to Jenna—and, by extension, to Leilani, who’d grown up alongside him. Five years ago, Jenna was caught stealing a family heirloom and sentenced to ten years in prison.

Leilani clearly hadn’t expected me to drag her family’s disgrace into the open. Her eyes blazed with fury.

“You witch!” she shrieked, her hands clawing at me.

I wasn’t about to stand there and take it. Instinct kicked in, and I sidestepped. But Leilani was relentless. She pivoted and lunged straight at my stomach.

There was no time to dodge. Every instinct in me screamed to protect the life inside me. Without thinking, I threw all my strength into shoving her away.

She hit the floor with a scream, clutching her stomach and wailing, “The baby... my baby...”

Her screams cut through the room. Panic spread as a red stain bloomed beneath her. Two female coworkers rushed in, screaming.

It didn’t take long for Carlos to burst in, his face dark and terrifying. He scooped Leilani up and cradled her against his chest.

“Carlos, save our baby...” Leilani pleaded. Her face was pale, sweat beading on her forehead, her voice pitiful.

“Don’t worry. The ambulance is on its way,” Carlos said, but I could hear the fear underneath.

Then Carlos turned his fury on me. His glare pinned me in place like a rabbit frozen under a predator’s stare.

I stood frozen, not sure how to explain myself. What could I possibly say that he would believe?

The ambulance arrived quickly, and Carlos left with Leilani.

In an instant, I became the office pariah, exposed to everyone’s stares. To escape the whispers, I left work early and went home.

When I got home, my father called me into his study.

“Adele, the company’s in trouble. Could you lend us three million?” he pleaded.

“I don’t have that kind of money,” I said with a bitter smile. Every cent of the marriage settlement from the Richards family had already gone to my family.

“Could you ask Carlos?” My father paced nervously, explaining there’d been an accident at a construction site and they urgently needed money for compensation. “Please, Adele. Help the family get through this.”

Faced with his desperation, I couldn’t say no.

But I didn’t dare ask Carlos. I knew he wouldn’t lend me a penny. After going back and forth, I decided to visit his grandfather at the family estate instead.

Mr. Richards Sr. was kind. As his grandson’s wife, maybe I could get the money if I was persistent enough.

The butler led me into the grand living room. Carlos, in a crisp white shirt, stood out against the black leather sofa.

I hadn’t expected him to be here—I assumed he’d be at the hospital with Leilani.

“Adele, why are you so late?” Grandpa greeted me warmly, his eyes bright with hope. “Carlos told me you two are planning for a child. Wonderful! But you’re too thin. You need to eat more and get healthy.”

Carlos had told him we were planning a child? And how did he know I’d come to see his grandfather?

Stunned, I looked to Carlos for answers. His gaze met mine, unreadable, giving nothing away. I had no idea what he was really playing at.

“Let’s start dinner,” Carlos told the staff, his tone indifferent.

Dinner was extravagant. Grandpa insisted I finish two bowls of chicken soup for my health. Afterward, he kept me in friendly conversation.

I wanted to bring up the loan, but I couldn’t find the right moment.

“Grandpa, it’s getting late. We should go,” Carlos said as eight o’clock approached, signaling it was time to leave.

In the car, I sat in silence. The air between us was cold and suffocating.

I couldn’t help myself. “How is Leilani?”

I meant no harm. It had been self-defense, after all.

Carlos slammed on the brakes. The car lurched to a stop in the middle of the road, and my body jolted forward.

Startled, I instinctively wrapped my arms around my belly.

At the same time, Carlos grabbed my collar and roughly pinned me against the seat. His face was a storm—eyes dark and turbulent, voice cold and dangerous. “You have no right to speak her name!”

My heart shuddered, my ears ringing. After the sting of heartbreak, self-mockery almost felt comical.

I looked at him, a faint, humorless smile on my lips. “If she’s so important, shouldn’t you be at her side in the hospital? Coming back to the estate—were you afraid I’d report to your grandfather? Seems Leilani’s place in your heart isn’t as secure as she thought.”

My taunt didn’t provoke him. Whether I’d hit a nerve or he was simply coldhearted, I couldn’t tell.

He ignored me, straightened, and resumed driving.

Soon we arrived at the estate. Carlos got out without another glance.

After a beat of hesitation, I followed him inside.

The familiar scent of our shared home filled the air. Everything looked untouched, with no sign of Leilani. Foolishly, I hoped Carlos hadn’t brought her here.

While I was distracted, Carlos came out of the bathroom, water droplets clinging to his hair. He wore a loosely tied white robe, his muscles taut beneath the fabric—sculpted and distracting.

Maybe he felt my gaze, because his brows drew together slightly. “Need help with the shower?”