Elaris’s POV

On the day I lost my baby and nearly lost my womb, my husband was across the hall in another woman’s private suite, taking care of her because she had an allergic reaction.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Greymark. There was nothing we could do. You’re lucky you were brought in on time. If you had stayed out there any longer, you would have lost your womb,” the doctor said, his voice echoing in my head.

That day had started like any other.

Draven woke before dawn and dressed for business. It was the first time he had slept in our penthouse in the past two weeks. He had returned late last night from handling trouble at the southern docks, and I had prepared his favorite meal for him.

He left after a brief goodbye.

A few hours later, his call came through, sharp and impatient, ordering me to prepare seafood and bring it to one of the syndicate’s private hospital suites.

At first, I was confused. Draven hated seafood. He could barely stand the smell of it. But before I could ask why, he hung up and told me to hurry.

Like an obedient wife, I went to the market, bought everything myself, and prepared the meal.

When I was done, I got into the car and headed for the hospital.

Then, out of nowhere, the storm hit.

It came so suddenly the road vanished beneath rain and ice, and panic spread through traffic. Several cars collided. Mine was forced off the road and left hanging over the edge of an overpass.

I struggled to breathe.

The car had rolled before catching on the edge. My whole body ached, bruises covered my skin, and a sharp pain tore through my abdomen.

I cried out for help, but the storm swallowed my voice.

Shaking, I reached for my phone and called Draven.

He answered at once.

“Draven…” I whispered weakly.

“How can you be so vicious, Seraphina?” His cold voice cut through me before I could say another word.

“But Draven—”

“Seafood. It was a simple thing, yet you still found a way to ruin it. I give you everything, but you can’t even handle this. Don’t call me again.”

Then he hung up.

I tried again and again, but he rejected every call.

Then the car shifted.

I screamed as it tilted farther over the edge, as if it meant to drag me down with it. No one heard me.

And then it fell.

I closed my eyes, heart heavy with pain and anger, knowing my husband had refused to listen to me—refused to save me—over seafood he did not even eat.

But before the car could crash below, it was caught.

One of the family patrol units reached the lower road just in time. They stopped the fall, pulled me out, and rushed me straight to the syndicate hospital.

That was when the doctor told me I had been pregnant for three weeks.

The baby hadn’t survived the accident.

And if I hadn’t been found when I was, I would have lost my womb from the bleeding.

“Is there anyone you’d like us to call for, Mrs. Greymark?” the doctor asked gently.

I blinked, trying to clear the fog in my head as the last few hours came rushing back.

I shook my head, swallowing hard against the grief rising in my throat.

My baby was dead before I had even known it existed.

“What about your husband?” the doctor asked.

His words struck a nerve as I stared down at my phone on the bedside table. I had called Draven more than forty times. Not once had he answered.

How could he be so cruel?

The doctor seemed to understand my silence. He adjusted the blanket over me and sighed.

“I’ll leave you to rest. We’ll discharge you tomorrow once we’re sure the bleeding has fully stopped.”

I barely acknowledged him as he turned to leave, but he paused at the door.

“If you need someone to speak with, I can call a counselor.”

I gave him a blank look as he slipped out and closed the door softly behind him.

A few moments later, I called Draven again.

This time, instead of his voice through the phone, I heard his familiar voice just down the hall.

Hope bloomed painfully in my chest.

Draven hadn’t abandoned me completely. He was here.

I pushed myself upright, ignoring the pain in my body, and stepped out of the room.

I moved slowly down the hall and stopped at the next suite when I heard his voice again.

Before I could think, I pushed the door open.

What I saw turned me to ice.

Elaris’s POV

My husband was holding another woman tightly in his arms, his hand moving over her hair with a tenderness he had not shown me in months.

“Draven?” I called, but my voice came out hoarse and weak.

He turned at once. His forest-green eyes landed on me, and his expression darkened.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded. “Did you follow me? Did you come here to spy on us?”

“Draven, I—”

“Save it,” he snapped. “You were vicious enough to hurt her, and now you have the nerve to stand there and watch? After everything I have done for you, you could not carry out one simple request. Look at what you caused.”

He stepped aside then, and I finally saw her clearly.

Even with the slight swelling in her face and the redness around her eyes, I recognized her at once.

Nyra Ravaryn.

Draven’s childhood friend.

The woman who had returned from London seven months ago, after marrying into another crime family overseas.

I frowned, confusion tightening in my chest. Why was she here with him?

Then her perfume reached me.

Lilies and jasmine.

It hit me so hard I nearly staggered.

For months, Draven had smelled different. When I asked about it, he told me he had changed the cologne he used after late nights at the club.

He had changed something, yes.

But standing in that room now, with Nyra’s perfume thick in the air and clinging to his shirt, I knew the truth.

That scent had never belonged to cologne.

It had belonged to her.

Still, I tried to tell myself I might be wrong. Maybe I was only exhausted. Only hurting. Only letting grief twist everything into something uglier than it was.

“After everything you put her through, you still cannot even ask what happened to her?” Draven’s cold voice cut through my thoughts.

My throat tightened. “What happened to her?”

“She had an allergic reaction because of you,” he said harshly. “I told you to bring the seafood, but you never came. She had no choice but to go out and eat instead, and this is what happened.”

I stared at him, my breathing turning shallow.

The seafood.

The meal he had ordered me to prepare in the middle of the day.

The meal I had nearly died trying to deliver.

The meal that had cost me my baby.

It had all been for Nyra.

“How...” My lips trembled. “Why didn’t you answer me? Why did you ignore my calls?”

Draven looked almost offended by the question.

“When you refuse to do as I say, why should I listen to you?” he said coldly.

“Draven, let her be,” Nyra said softly at last. “I’m sure Seraphina was only delayed.”

“Delayed?” Draven let out a harsh scoff and looked back at me. “Apologize to Nyra. Now.”

“Apologize?” I repeated, too stunned to believe what I was hearing.

Nyra lowered her lashes, all softness and false grace. “That isn’t necessary, Seraphina. But... why are you here in the hospital?”

For one brief second, I was grateful for the question.

“I had an—”

“It hurts, Draven,” Nyra whimpered suddenly, clutching her side. “Ah—”

At once, Draven turned back to her and gathered her closer, all his attention returning to her as if I had ceased to exist.

I stood frozen by the doorway, pale from blood loss, shaking from grief, and he did not even ask why I was there.

Over his shoulder, Nyra lifted her eyes to mine.

There was something smug in them. Quick. Sharp. Ugly enough to make my stomach twist.

Then I understood.

She had asked that question on purpose.

Only to show me that no matter what I said, Draven would choose her.

I staggered back to my room with that truth clawing through me.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, but my mind kept circling all the small changes in Draven I had ignored these past months.

It had begun seven months ago, on our third wedding anniversary.

We were meant to have dinner alone, just the two of us, but he left in the middle of it to pick up an old family friend arriving from London. Later that same night, he came back with Nyra at his side and casually invited her to join us, as though there had been nothing strange about it.

At the time, I had thought little of it.

But now, lying awake and replaying the last seven months, I realized how blind I had been.

His late returns to the penthouse.

The phone calls he would end the moment I walked into the room.

The unfamiliar perfume clinging to his jackets.

Still, perfume and suspicion were not proof.

Maybe he only cared too much because Nyra had run from a brutal marriage when she returned to the city. A few weeks later, word spread that she was pregnant. Maybe Draven’s protectiveness came from pity. From loyalty. From an old promise between their families.

Maybe it truly was all in my head.

I clung to that thought as I drifted into an uneasy sleep.

The next day, the doctor discharged me with strict orders to rest and avoid any strain.

Before leaving, I asked about Nyra, but the young nurses only sighed dreamily and told me she had already gone.

“She was carried out in her husband’s arms,” one of them gushed. “Like something out of an old romance film.”

I said nothing.

I pulled my coat tighter around myself and took a hired car back to the Greymark estate.

When I arrived, I stopped at once.

There were two pairs of shoes outside the door.

One belonged to my husband.

The other was a woman’s.

A cold feeling slid down my spine.

Then I heard voices drifting from the kitchen.

Nyra’s voice.

“Draven, are you sure about this?” she asked softly. “I don’t want your wife to be upset, and I don’t want to intrude. Maybe you should talk to her first... tell her that I’ll be living here from now on.”

Elaris’s POV

My breath hitched, and before I knew it, I was already striding toward the kitchen, fury rising so fast it felt like it might tear me apart.

“You’ll be what?” I snapped.

Draven turned at the sound of my voice, and his face darkened at once.

“Lower your voice,” he said sharply. “You’ll upset her.”

I let out a harsh, disbelieving laugh. “Upset her? Since when do you make decisions in this house without speaking to me first?”

“I’m sorry, Seraphina,” Nyra said softly, her eyes already shimmering with tears. “There was a gas leak in the townhouse this morning, and Draven thought it would be safer if I stayed here, especially in my condition. Please don’t be angry. I can leave right now.”

I almost laughed in her face.

Her act was so thin, so pathetic, it was insulting.

Still, she pushed herself up from her chair like some fragile little thing, swaying just enough to look weak. Before she could even pretend to stumble, Draven was already at her side, one arm around her waist as though she were something precious.

“Sit down, Nyra,” he said, his voice softening in a way I had not heard in months. “Eat. I’ll talk to Seraphina.”

Nyra nodded and lowered herself back into the chair. Then she reached for the plate in front of her.

My chest tightened the moment I saw it.

Honey cakes.

Draven had made them himself.

I knew because of the little smile he had drizzled over the top with honey. It had always been his stupid habit.

The last time he made them for me was seven months ago. He had called them our special thing.

Now he was making them for her.

“Come with me,” he said, all warmth vanishing the second he looked at me again.

He led me to our bedroom and shut the door behind us.

“Nyra is staying here until she gives birth,” he said without preamble. “I’m not leaving her alone in that townhouse. And besides, you owe her. She ended up in the hospital yesterday because of you.”

A bitter laugh escaped me. “As if she was the only one in the hospital.”

Draven exhaled through his nose, already sounding annoyed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t answer your calls yesterday, Seraphina, but I was angry. Nyra is pregnant. I’m sure you don’t understand what that feels like, since you’ve never been pregnant.”

His words sliced straight through me.

We tried everything, but we could not save the baby.

The doctor’s voice rang through my mind all over again, crueler now because he did not know.

Because he had never cared enough to ask.

“Seraphina,” Draven said, his voice softening as if that could somehow undo what he had just said, “Nyra’s father helped me years ago, before he died. He made me promise I’d look after her. I failed him. That’s why she came back to this city broken and bruised from that marriage. Every day, I blame myself. If I had stepped in sooner, maybe she would never have suffered that way. Now we finally have a chance to help her. Don’t you agree? It’s only for a few months.”

I blinked hard and turned my face away.

The same excuse.

Always the same excuse.

Nyra is pregnant, Seraphina.

I failed her father, Seraphina.

Without him, I wouldn’t have built this empire, and you wouldn’t have the life you have now, Seraphina.

She’s suffered enough, Seraphina. Show some compassion.

“Yeah,” I said sharply. “Whatever.”

At once, his expression eased, as though my surrender pleased him.

He stepped forward, wrapped his arms around me, and kissed my forehead.

“You’re the best,” he murmured.

Then he suddenly paused, his brow furrowing.

“Why do you smell like antiseptic?”

My whole body went still.

Before I could answer, Nyra’s voice floated in from outside.

“Draven!”

Just like that, the faint concern on his face vanished.

He turned and walked out immediately, drawn to her as if I had never been standing there at all.

I stayed in the room until I heard the sound of his car disappearing beyond the estate gates. He was probably on his way to a meeting with the captains.

Only a few moments later, the door opened again.

Nyra stepped inside with a smug curve to her lips, every trace of weakness gone.

“I love this room, Seraphina,” she said, glancing around as though she already owned it. “I think I’ll ask Draven to give it to me when he gets back.”

I looked at her coldly. “Whatever you want, Nyra.”

She giggled and clasped her hands together. “Good. You’ve finally accepted it. That I’m above you. That I’m the woman your husband really wants.”

“Keep dreaming.”

She laughed, then tilted her head.

“Oh, and one more thing. Draven never saw any of the calls you made yesterday. I made sure of that.”

My anger hit so hard I could barely breathe.

“You monster. I could have died.”

Nyra only shrugged. “That would’ve made things easier for my son. I doubt he’d want to share Draven with anyone.”

I stared at her in horror.

“Wait until I tell Draven the truth. He’ll see what you really are.”

She laughed again, louder this time.

“You still don’t get it, do you? Draven is mine. Maybe you need a harsher lesson before you finally accept it.”

I brushed past her and left the room before I did something I would regret.

I needed air. Distance. Anything but her perfume and that smug little smile.

And if there really was another mouth to feed under this roof now, then I needed to bring in more groceries too.

But more than that, I couldn’t stay in that house another second while she stood there smiling, knowing I had lost my baby and saying nothing. If I remained, I might have wrapped my hands around her throat and squeezed until the world went quiet.

But tonight, I told myself, I would tell Draven everything.

He didn’t know the truth.

He was being played by her.

That was what I still wanted to believe.

After buying what we needed, I wandered into one of the family’s private lounges above the casino and sat there for a while, pretending to read while trying to steady my thoughts.

I must have lost track of time.

By the time my phone buzzed, evening had already fallen.

Frowning, I picked it up and saw Nyra’s name on the screen.

A chill ran through me.

I opened the message.

It was a video.

Draven.

Kissing Nyra.

My phone slipped from my hand and hit the floor with a sharp crack.

I shook my head at once.

No.

No, that couldn’t be real.

Draven would never—

My breathing turned faster and faster until I could barely stand. I snatched up my coat and rushed outside, waving down a car as panic pounded through me.

The whole way home, I told myself Nyra was lying. That she had staged it somehow. That she only wanted to break me.

But the moment I saw Draven’s car waiting outside the estate, my heart dropped.

I ran for the door.

Then I heard it.

Low, breathless moans drifting from my bedroom.

And in that instant, I knew.