After five years of playing the devoted husband, Erick brought his mistress home.

"Sabrina is pregnant. I need to protect her reputation," he said with practiced calm, as if rehearsed in front of a mirror.

Bianca's response was swift and unexpected. "Sure," she said, her tone as serene as the surface of a still pond.

Erick faltered, caught off guard by her lack of outrage. He had braced himself for tears, accusations, or even shattered glass. Instead, she stood there, unshaken and smiled faintly, as if he'd merely asked her to pass the salt.

"I still love you," he blurted, rushing to fill the silence. "Once some time passes, I'll divorce her and marry you again."

Bianca's smile lingered, but she said nothing.

What Erick didn't realize—what he couldn't realize—was that the future he so confidently described would never come to pass. Soon, he would receive a call that shattered his world: his ex-wife and her unborn child were gone.

And by then, he wouldn't even have the right to decide how she'd be laid to rest.

***

"Sorry, Bianca, I have to work late again tonight."

At 10 p.m., Erick placed a glass of warm milk on the bedside table. He leaned down, brushing a hand softly over Bianca's hair, his touch almost tender.

"Drink this and go to bed early," he murmured. "Don't wait up for me."

At 10:05 p.m., the sound of water filling the bathtub echoed through the quiet house. Erick prepared the bath himself, adding drops of lavender and chamomile oil, the same blend that always lulled Bianca to sleep.

"Sweet dreams, Bianca," he said, his voice low, almost reluctant, as he pulled the door closed behind him.

At 10:10 p.m., he kissed her forehead, the faintest brush of his lips, before stepping out into the night.

If anyone had been watching, they would have thought Erick was the epitome of a loving husband—a man devoted to his wife in every gesture, every word. Bianca might have believed it, too, if it weren't for the hundreds of photos stored on her phone, each one a damning fragment of the life Erick lived beyond their home.

As the front door clicked shut, the tears Bianca had held at bay broke free, tracing silent paths down her cheeks. She stared after his retreating figure, her voice a broken whisper.

"I never doubted you," she murmured, the words more for herself than anyone else.

Her quiet sobs escalated, raw and desperate, as she grabbed her phone and hurled it across the room. It struck the floor with a sharp crack, but the impact did nothing to shatter the haunting images seared into her mind. Each photo—a kiss, an embrace, a laugh that wasn't hers—looped endlessly in her thoughts, vivid and cruel.

Three years. Erick had been unfaithful for three out of the five years they'd been married. She could hardly comprehend it. How could love—real love—wither in just two years?

Bianca sank to the floor, her arms wrapped around herself as memories of the past invaded her thoughts. She was nineteen when her world began to fall apart.

Her adoptive family, the Harpers, had finally found their long-lost biological daughter and Bianca, who had spent years as the eldest daughter, was suddenly rendered invisible. Soon, whispers began circulating: she didn't belong; she was merely a replacement.

When the day came that the Harpers nearly threw her out, it was Erick who intervened.

"I'm going to marry Bianca someday," he had declared with defiance. "If you kick her out now, don't even think about working with the West Group again!"

His words had shielded her, giving her a place to stay when she had nowhere else to go. In the days that followed, Erick confessed his feelings, his cheeks flushed as he poured out years of admiration.

"Bianca, I've always liked you," he said, his voice trembling. "But we're still young. Let's wait a few years and then we'll get married."

That moment had changed everything. His earnestness planted a seed of hope in Bianca's heart and over the years, it grew into love.

The path to their union hadn't been easy. The Harpers, reluctant to accept their adopted daughter as Erick's wife, threw obstacle after obstacle in their way. Erick had worked tirelessly to overcome them, vowing to silence every objection.

Bianca had watched him push himself, leaving early, coming home late, sacrificing sleep to take control of the West Group. He had seemed unstoppable, all for her. Or so she thought.

Now, Erick still left early and returned late, but Bianca knew it wasn't work that kept him away.

Her phone buzzed on the floor, dragging her back to the present. She wiped her swollen eyes and reached for it, ignoring the jagged crack across the screen. A new photo stared back at her—a private investigator's latest update.

Erick stood in the photo, locked in a passionate kiss with another woman.

Bianca's chest tightened as she recognized the woman. It was the Harpers' long-lost daughter. Her so-called sister.

Her body began to tremble, the image burning itself into her mind like a brand. Each pixel felt like a dagger, twisting deeper into the wounds she didn't know could hurt more.

Why? The question rang in her head, sharp and unrelenting. Why would the man who once claimed to love her—who promised her a forever—betray her like this?

She clutched her chest, gasping for air as sobs wracked her body. Her tears fell harder, faster, until they blurred into laughter—cold, bitter laughter that echoed through the empty house.

The vows they had exchanged, the life they had built, now felt like a cruel joke. Five years of marriage reduced to nothing but lies.

Outside the window, the night stretched dark and silent. Inside, Bianca's laughter faded into a chilling quiet. For the first time, she began to see her path forward. And it would no longer include Erick.

Erick's so-called love had always been like a beautifully wrapped candy—deceptively sweet on the surface, yet destined to rot at its core. Bianca realized this too late. The truth had stripped away every ounce of sweetness, leaving only the bitter aftertaste of betrayal.

Her face, once alive with warmth and trust, had become eerily calm, like still water reflecting nothing but emptiness.

Sitting in the dim light of the bedroom, she stared at her phone for what felt like an eternity before dialing a number. The ringing echoed in the silence, her fingers trembling slightly as she pressed the device to her ear.

When the line connected, she spoke in a low, controlled voice. "Erick is cheating. Help me. I want to leave him."

The person on the other end didn't reply immediately. There was a long pause, punctuated only by the faint hum of static. Finally, the voice responded, steady and grim.

"With Erick's influence, leaving won't be easy. He'll make it impossible for you to escape." There was another pause, this time filled with hesitation. "Here's the plan—give me three months. I'll arrange everything. In three months, I'll deliver your 'corpse' to him so you can disappear."

Bianca tightened her grip on the phone, her nails digging into her palm. "No," she said firmly. "Before that, I'll find a way to divorce him first."

Her voice was steady, but her heart felt like it was being torn apart. Betrayal had already shattered her trust; she wouldn't let him destroy her dignity, too. Erick would have no claim over her—not even over her staged death.

After the call ended, Bianca sat motionless, her phone slipping from her fingers. Shadows from the window stretched across the floor as the night deepened. Hours passed and she didn't move, her mind racing with plans and regrets until dawn began to creep in.

The sound of the front door opening broke the silence. Erick's presence filled the room, accompanied by the cool scent of early morning air. His footsteps quickened when he saw her pale face.

"Bianca, you look awful! Are you feeling sick?" He knelt beside her, his hands cupping her face with the same practiced tenderness he always showed.

The faint scent of his post-shower cologne wafted toward her. She had once found comfort in its familiarity, believing it symbolized his thoughtfulness—his desire not to bring the grime of late-night work into their home. Now, she knew the truth. It wasn't about her at all. The cologne masked the lingering traces of other women.

Her stomach churned violently. The nausea was unbearable. Bianca shoved Erick aside and bolted to the bathroom, collapsing to her knees in front of the toilet.

The sound of her retching echoed through the small space. Erick's panicked voice followed her. "Bianca! Bianca, what's wrong?"

Moments later, he was on his phone, summoning an ambulance. "She's been pale all morning," he explained to the dispatcher, his voice thick with urgency. "She needs help now!"

At the hospital, the air was sterile, filled with the faint scent of antiseptic and the quiet murmurs of medical staff. Bianca sat in silence as the doctor reviewed her test results, her hands folded tightly in her lap. Erick hovered nearby, his brows furrowed with worry.

The doctor's expression softened. "Stantonratulations," he announced with a smile. "You're going to be parents!"

The words hung in the air like a thunderclap. Bianca froze, her mind reeling. She blinked and hot tears began streaming down her cheeks. This child... this innocent life had come at the worst possible time.

Erick, mistaking her tears for joy, clasped her hands in his. His face lit up, his usual composure replaced with raw emotion. "Bianca, we're having a baby! A baby!" His voice cracked with excitement as he spoke, his eyes glistening. "We're going to be a family, Bianca! Isn't this incredible?"

Bianca stared at him, her expression unreadable. She knew how much Erick had longed for a child. The news should have been a blessing, but all she felt was an overwhelming sense of despair.

'Erick,' she thought, her heart heavy. 'There's no future for us. No future for this child.'

The doctor's voice brought her back to reality. "The pregnancy is still in its early stages and your condition seems unstable. I recommend staying in the hospital for observation."

Erick immediately took charge, filling out the admission paperwork with an enthusiasm that bordered on childlike glee. He called everyone he could think of—family, friends, even distant acquaintances—proudly declaring the news.

"Bianca and I are having a baby!" he said, his deep voice brimming with pride. "Can you believe it? I'm going to be a dad!"

The nurses, overhearing his calls, giggled among themselves. One leaned over to Bianca, whispering with a grin, "Your husband really loves you. You're so lucky."

Another sighed wistfully. "Men like him are a rare find these days."

Bianca didn't respond. She simply stared at the scene unfolding before her, her gaze cold and detached. It was as if she were watching actors perform in a play—one that had become painfully absurd.

Eventually, Erick noticed her tears hadn't stopped. He crouched down beside her, his worry deepening. "Bianca, are you okay? Are you in pain?"

Through the haze of her emotions, Bianca looked at him—the man who had once promised her forever. Eight years together, five of them married and all of it felt like a cruel joke now. She wanted to scream at him, to ask him why he had betrayed her. But she couldn't—not yet.

Suppressing the storm raging inside her, Bianca let her tears flow freely. "I've never had a child before," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I'm scared."

Erick sighed in relief, his smile returning. He gently squeezed her hand, his touch warm and reassuring. "Don't be afraid," he said softly. "I'm here. I'll be with you every step of the way, Bianca. I'll always be with you."

'But I don't want you anymore, Erick.'

Bianca's thoughts swirled like a storm, though her face remained serene. She hadn't yet sorted through the tangled web of emotions engulfing her, nor did she have the strength to face Erick. Instead, she murmured that she wasn't feeling well and turned onto her side, closing her eyes as if to sleep.

Erick's initial excitement over the pregnancy had subsided and he quickly regained his usual composed demeanor. He pulled up a chair beside her hospital bed, the metal legs scraping softly against the floor. Sitting down, he reached out and gently patted her shoulder, his voice soft and tender.

"Rest, Bianca. I'll stay here with you."

For a moment, the room was silent save for the rhythmic beeping of the hospital monitor. Erick's presence seemed reassuring, almost as if he truly cared. Bianca wanted to believe the illusion, to pretend for just a moment longer that she still had a loving husband.

But the quiet was soon broken by the buzz of Erick's phone. He glanced at the screen, his jaw tightening slightly before he declined the call.

Bianca kept her eyes closed but felt the subtle shift in the air—Erick's hesitation, the way his body tensed as the phone buzzed again. This time, the call was followed by a string of notifications. Erick's hand moved quickly to open the messages, but Bianca could sense his agitation.

Her curiosity got the better of her and she peeked through her lashes, catching the faint glow of the screen. A photo of Sabrina in a lacy, revealing dress flashed across it. Bianca's chest tightened, anger simmering beneath her composed exterior.

Erick stared at the photo for a moment, his gaze darkening. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, before locking the phone and slipping it into his pocket.

"What's wrong?" Bianca asked suddenly, her voice startling him.

Erick flinched, his face flushing with guilt. But he quickly recovered, forcing a calm smile. "It's nothing. Just an emergency meeting at the office. My assistant is being persistent."

Bianca sat up slightly, her expression unreadable. "Then you should go. Work is important."

He hesitated, torn between guilt and desire. Finally, unable to resist, he stood. "Bianca, I'll have a nurse come check on you while I'm gone. I won't be long."

Bianca nodded but didn't say anything further. Erick took a step toward the door but stopped when she called his name.

"Erick," she said softly.

He turned, his brow furrowing. "What is it?"

She didn't reply immediately, her gaze piercing as it lingered on him. For a fleeting moment, Erick felt as though he were standing on the edge of a vast, unbridgeable chasm. The distance between them felt overwhelming, even though they were just feet apart.

A pang of unease struck his heart. He quickly closed the gap, bending to kiss her forehead. "Bianca, wait for me," he whispered.

Bianca stayed silent, watching as he walked out of the room.

The moment the door clicked shut, she rose from the bed, her movements slow but deliberate. She straightened her hospital gown and made her way to the doctor's office.

"Hello," she began, her voice steady. "I'd like to schedule an abortion, please."

The doctor froze, his pen hovering over the clipboard. Beside him, a nurse gasped audibly, her wide eyes reflecting her shock. They had both seen the joy on Erick's face earlier, heard him proudly announce the news to everyone who would listen.

"Are you sure?" the doctor asked carefully, lowering his pen. "Would you like more time to think about it?"

Bianca's lips curved into a faint, humorless smile. She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her gallery until she found the damning image—Erick locked in a passionate kiss with Sabrina. Turning the screen toward the doctor and nurse, she said simply, "My husband is cheating on me. I'll be divorcing him soon."

The young nurse stared at the photo, her mouth agape. The man she had admired for his devotion just moments ago was nothing more than a fraud. Her shock quickly turned into anger. "That bastard," she muttered under her breath, clenching her fists.

Without another word, the nurse guided Bianca to the operating room, her steps firm and resolute, as if she were taking justice into her own hands.

***

Elsewhere, in a dimly lit hotel suite, Erick sprawled across the bed, a satisfied smirk on his face. Beads of sweat glistened on his skin as he let out a contented sigh.

Sabrina stretched languidly beside him, her bare shoulder brushing against his arm. "Erick, you're crushing me," she said with a playful pout, gently pushing him away.

Erick chuckled and rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow. He studied Sabrina for a moment, taking in her tousled hair and flushed cheeks. But his expression soon turned serious.

"Sabrina," he began, his voice low.

She glanced at him, her brows arching in curiosity. "What?"

He hesitated, then sighed. "Bianca's pregnant."

The words hung in the air, heavy and unspoken. Sabrina froze, her smile faltering. But it was only for a moment. Her lips soon curved into a sly grin.

"Oh? Then I'm going to have a little nephew!" she said, her tone light and teasing.

Erick didn't laugh.

The reason he had come to this rendezvous wasn't just to sleep with Sabrina. It was also to end their affair.

Not long ago, one of Erick's close friends had been exposed for cheating on his wife. The scandal spread like wildfire, tearing his family apart and ruining his reputation. Erick had watched as the man went from a respected businessman to a disgraced pariah in a matter of days.

The incident haunted Erick, serving as a stark reminder of the risks he faced. Bianca's tolerance had always been rooted in trust, but Erick knew that once her faith in him was broken, there would be no going back. She would never forgive him—not for something like this.

He had already ended things with his other mistresses, distancing himself from the chaos and temptations they brought into his life. But Sabrina was different. Letting her go wasn't easy. She was the only one who had remained in his life, pulling him back into a world he swore to leave behind.

Now, with Bianca's pregnancy, Erick realized the stakes were higher than ever. He couldn't risk losing his family, his carefully curated image, or the empire he had built. No matter how reluctant he felt, he had to end things with Sabrina once and for all.