Marla’s POV

Suddenly, an announcement echoed through the air: "The second race will now begin!"

Without hesitation, Jason stood up, his presence commanding as ever. Shane clapped enthusiastically beside him, her excitement almost nauseating.

Jason mounted Chestnut with a single, fluid motion. His authority was unshakable, and despite my irritation, I couldn’t deny that he looked completely in control.

“Go, Jason!” Shane cheered loudly, as if she were his personal cheerleader.

Chestnut started strong, taking an early lead. But halfway through the race, it became obvious something was wrong. The horse looked tired, its pace slowing. Jason’s expression turned cold, his frustration visible even from a distance. Despite his efforts, Chestnut only managed to finish in third place.

As Jason dismounted, Shane spun toward me, her eyes blazing.

"You’re not taking proper care of your horse! Chestnut always looks exhausted! You’re such a lazy owner!"

With Jason not nearby, I refused to back down. Raising an eyebrow, I gave Shane a look that could cut glass.

"You don’t know a damn thing," I snapped. "So shut your mouth before I make you regret it."

Shane blinked, stunned by my boldness, but she quickly recovered, her face twisting with anger. Before either of us could escalate further, Jason appeared, his sharp gaze immediately silencing the tension.

"What the hell is going on here? Are you two fighting?" His voice was calm, but the dominance in it was unmistakable.

I clenched my fists, shooting Shane one last glare before turning to face Jason. But before I could speak, Shane jumped in, her tone sharp.

"You’re only in third place, Jason, and I just spent $50,000 betting on you!"

I rolled my eyes, biting my tongue to keep from saying something I’d regret.

Jason didn’t flinch. Instead, he shrugged, his tone cold and decisive. "Then I’ll buy the horse that came in first place. Problem solved."

His words weren’t directed at Shane—they were aimed at me. His icy blue eyes locked on mine, as if he wanted to offer some twisted version of reassurance.

But I wasn’t having it. "I’ll check on Chestnut," I said flatly, turning on my heel before either of them could say another word.

I made my way to the horse farm, my anger simmering beneath the surface. Chestnut stood in his stall, looking utterly drained. I grabbed some feed and gently placed it in front of him, feeling a pang of guilt for the way he was being used.

As I fed him, I heard footsteps behind me.

"Are you Jason’s fiancée?" a woman’s voice asked.

I turned around, recognizing her as the farm’s administrator.

"Yes. Why?"

She hesitated, then gave a small smile, as if what she was about to say wasn’t important.

"Oh, nothing. It’s just… Chestnut was sold. Jason arranged it earlier today."

I froze, the words hitting me like a punch.

"W-What?"

She shrugged, as though it was just business. "The horse that won first place? That’s going to replace Chestnut. Jason made the deal right after the race."

I stared at her, unable to process what I’d just heard.

"Jason loved that horse," she added thoughtfully. "But, well… I guess he loves winning more."

"Where is he now?" I asked, my voice low but steady.

"In the VIP lounge, I think. He’s with someone—"

I didn’t wait for her to finish. The anger inside me had reached its boiling point. I stormed off toward the VIP lounge, each step fueled by frustration and disbelief.

When I reached the door, I noticed it was slightly open.

"Jason!" I called out, but my voice faltered as I heard something inside.

I froze.

"Oh, Jason!" Shane’s voice rang out, breathless and filled with desire.

"Oh, fuck, Shane. You’re so fucking delicious." Jason’s voice was low, guttural, and unmistakable.

My heart stopped. I stepped back, the reality of what was happening crashing down on me. The sounds—the slap of skin, the wet noises, the moans—left no room for doubt.

I stood there, paralyzed, unable to believe what I was hearing. Every part of me screamed to turn away, to leave, but I couldn’t move.

My world shattered in that moment, and all I could do was stand there, drowning in the betrayal.

Marla’s POV

“Jason! Ahh!”

“Shane! Fuck! I’m cumming!”

The pain I felt from what I was hearing was unbearable. I couldn’t see it, but I could imagine what was happening to them. That image, that feeling—it hurt deep inside. At that moment, I knew what I had to do—I made the decision to cut them off completely.

I walked back to the administrator, my mind a mess, and then I saw Chestnut. Even though it wasn’t easy, I couldn’t help but feel attached to Chestnut in some way. After all, the poor horse was being dragged into all this chaos. I didn’t want the first-place horse that Jason bought for me. I just wanted it to go back to its original owner.

“Please, just give it back to the original owner,” I said. My voice echoed with anger and pain. Before I left, I warned them, “Before Jason asks, tell him it was my order.”

I turned around before anyone could respond.

When I returned to the mansion, everyone was surprised to see me come back by myself. “Lady Marla, where’s Lord Jason?” they asked, but I didn’t answer any of their questions. I just walked straight to our room.

Once inside, I let everything go. I started tearing apart everything that had anything to do with him. His things—his figurines, his clothes—I threw them around, ripping them apart. Even the gifts he gave me. The shoes, the bags—everything. I wanted it all gone!

I walked out, and the servants were standing there, watching me. It was like they could hear the destruction I was causing inside. “What? Why are you staring?!” I shouted at them. They all flinched, scared, and immediately ran off in all directions. But I wasn’t done. I wasn’t satisfied yet.

I went to the living room and smashed the TV, destroyed everything he owned—anything I knew he’d bought with his money. It was all chaos. The maids and servants could only watch, helpless, as I raged through the house.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. Then, I saw him—Matthew. He stood there, watching me, probably trying to figure out what to say. He opened his mouth, but I cut him off with a cold stare.

“Proceed according to the plan,” I whispered.

Matthew was taken aback by what I said. “Are you sure, Lady Marla?” he asked, his voice filled with uncertainty.

“Yes, I’m sure,” I replied, my voice loud, even though I couldn’t stop myself from yelling. “I’ll make him regret this! I’ll make sure he pays for what he’s done!”

I was determined. My plan was simple: I would make it look like I had been in a car accident. I knew it would shake him, and Matthew could sense the intensity in my words.

“Yes, Lady Marla. I’ll arrange everything,” Matthew responded, bowing his head as if he had no choice but to follow my lead.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. I had to keep my composure, even though I could feel the madness creeping in. But... I had loved him. And in the end, it was only pain that was left.

I told the servants to clean up the mess, and it didn’t take long for Jason to storm into the mansion. His footsteps echoed through the hall, sharp and deliberate. When he saw me, he walked straight toward me, his expression dark and unreadable, though there was a flicker of frustration in his eyes.

"Why did you leave without a word?" His tone wasn’t frantic—it was sharp, cold, and demanding. "And why didn’t you accept the first-place horse I arranged for you?"

There was no warmth in his voice, just a calculated edge. He didn’t care about me or the horses. This was about him—his pride, his image.

"I don’t care about horse racing," I said firmly, my voice icy. "And I don’t care about that horse."

For a moment, he just stared at me. His piercing gaze bore into mine, as if he were dissecting me, trying to measure how far he could push. But I didn’t flinch. I kept my expression cold, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing what I was thinking.

Then, without warning, he grabbed my arm and pulled me close. His grip was firm, almost possessive, and his voice dropped to a low murmur. "You don’t have to care about the races or the horses," he said. "But you will care about me. And I’ll make sure of it."

His words weren’t a promise—they were a command.

I pull my arm free and shoved him back, glaring at him. "Do whatever you want, Jason," I said with disdain, my voice steady despite the anger bubbling inside me.

He didn’t react, his face a mask of calm authority. He didn’t need to raise his voice or show his emotions. He was the kind of man who didn’t need to win arguments—he controlled them.

"Dinner’s ready," I added, my tone cutting, before turning my back on him and walking away.

You’ll see my vengeance, Jason. You’ll regret this.

Marla’s POV

We headed straight to the dining hall, and Jason, for once, didn’t say a word.

He quietly followed me, his presence heavy yet silent.

Once we sat down, I tried my best to act like everything was fine, but deep inside, I was seething. I wanted to strangle him. I wanted him to suffer for everything he was putting me through.

As soon as we settled at the table, I couldn’t help myself—I had to bring up the issue about Chestnut.

“So, who did you sell Chestnut to?” I asked, keeping my tone as steady as I could.

His eyes locked onto mine, his jaw clenched tightly, and his gaze was sharp, almost dangerous. Then, with unsettling calmness, he replied, “It was just a business partner.”

I scoffed, barely hiding my disbelief. “A business partner, huh? I doubt that,” I muttered under my breath.

Before the tension could thicken any further, my phone buzzed with a notification. I paused, putting down my fork to check the message. And, oh, wasn’t this just delightful? The message was from Shane.

As I read it, my stomach twisted in anger.

Attached to the message was a photo—a picture of her kissing Chestnut on the forehead.

Looks like I know who he gave it to.

I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound escaping me bitterly and uncontrollably. Jason immediately noticed, his eyes narrowing, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, his voice laced with suspicion.

I turned to him and shook my head. “Nothing,” I said curtly. “Just finish your dinner.”

But I had no appetite left. I pushed back my chair, stood up, and left him sitting there alone.

“Marla!” Jason called after me, his voice firm and commanding, but I ignored him. I climbed the stairs to the second floor, heading toward a different room—one that wasn’t ours.

He followed me, his footsteps echoing behind mine. Before he could catch up, I turned around and looked him straight in the eyes.

“I’m not sleeping in our room tonight,” I said coldly.

“Marla! Don’t you dare turn your back on me,” he said, his voice booming with authority, but I didn’t flinch. Instead, I shut the door in his face, cutting off whatever argument he was about to make.

The next morning, I forced myself to rest. After everything that had drained me emotionally and physically, I needed to regain my strength.

Over the next few days, I wasn’t surprised that Jason didn’t come home. I knew he was busy dealing with issues at his company.

I was sipping a glass of water when my phone buzzed with another message from Shane.

My heart sank as I opened it and saw a photo of her and Jason together at his company.

They were holding hands, her face glowing with satisfaction. The message was loud and clear—she was flaunting their closeness, as if to remind me that Jason, my fiancé, was hers in every way that mattered.

I don’t know why she’s doing this or how she even got my number, but one thing is for sure—she’s trying to mock me.

This is the moment I need to leave everything behind.

But then another message came in from Shane, accompanied by a new photo. The sight made my world come to a screeching halt.

It was an x-ray. An ultrasound, to be exact.

The image of an unborn child stared back at me, accompanied by Shane’s message:

‘We’re looking forward to the baby’s arrival. We’ll meet this angel soon.’

My heart plummeted, and the strength in my legs gave out. Before I could process what was happening, I collapsed.

“Lady Marla!” panicked voices echoed around me as the house staff rushed to my side.

“Call Jason!” I managed to scream, my voice breaking with desperation. “Tell him to come home. Now!”

The servants sprang into action, and I was left. Minutes passed like hours until Matthew returned. His expression was a mix of hesitation and disappointment as he approached me.

“Lady Marla,” he began carefully, “Sir Jason said there was an emergency at work. He instructed us to take care of you and ensure you recover… before the wedding.”

His words cut through me like a knife.

“Where is he?!” I screamed, my voice echoing through the room.

Matthew hurriedly handed me a phone. “He’s on the line. I was just speaking to him.”

Without hesitation, I snatched the phone from Matthew’s hand. “Jason! Where are you?!” I demanded, my voice trembling with anger and desperation.

But instead of hearing Jason’s voice, a different, unmistakable tone greeted me. The voice on the other end was high-pitched, playful, and far too familiar.

“Jason, hang up already,” the voice chirped. “Come here. Let’s continue what we were doing.”

Shane.

Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard, and the casual intimacy of her words made my blood boil. I felt my grip tighten around the phone, my knuckles turning white. My heart raced, each beat filled with rage and betrayal.

For a moment, I couldn’t speak. She was with him right now. Whatever he was doing, it was with her, not handling an "emergency," as he had claimed.

“Jason!” I finally yelled, my voice sharp enough to cut through the tension. “Answer me!”

But the line had already gone dead.