Chapter 3

And so, little by little, the two of them ended up together.

Emma couldn't stomach the idea of sharing a man with anyone else.

She wanted to push me out and take my place, to become the real Mrs. Farley.

So she found every possible way to make my life miserable.

And the more she tormented me, the guiltier Miles felt.

The guiltier Miles felt, the more he paid me to make up for it.

He paid me enough that I could retire from being his mistress before my youth and looks were gone.

My phone screen lit up.

Another compensation payment had landed.

I stared at that long string of digits.

And the bitterness in my chest melted away with it.

This was fine, really.

Love was hers.

Money was mine.

She got what she wanted, and so did I. Everyone got exactly what they needed.

After I saw Miles off, I started tallying up the assets in my name.

Two hundred million in savings, enough that I'd never have to worry about money for the rest of my life.

Once I'd confirmed the numbers, I booked myself a flight to Switzerland.

Departure was three days away.

Once I'd tied up the last loose ends, I could walk away free.

I'd barely finalized the travel plans when Miles's call came through.

I was still worried he might have figured something out.

Then I heard him on the other end, giving an order that left no room for argument.

"Come to the old estate."

"Emma hasn't had much of an appetite lately. She wants some of your fish soup."

I let out a breath.

I didn't argue. I simply changed my clothes and hurried over to the old estate.

The old Farley estate hadn't been this lively in a long time.

Luxury cars were parked bumper to bumper out front.

And Old Mr. Farley couldn't hide his laughter if he tried.

"Good, good, the Farley line will go on."

"You wild thing, all these years of running around, and now you've finally settled down."

Emma sat in the middle of the crowd, one hand resting lightly on her belly.

Miles sat beside her, smiling as he peeled an orange for her.

Guests crowded around them, showering them with congratulations.

I'd long since gotten used to being left out in the cold.

But then Miles and the others started discussing names for the baby growing inside Emma.

And without meaning to, I looked down at my own flat stomach.

There had once been a child there too.

Our baby.

Our flesh and blood.

The day Emma pushed me down the stairs, I was already more than three months pregnant.

When the blood came sliding down between my legs, I was terrified.

Lost, not knowing what to do, all I could do was call Miles in a panic.

I called more than a dozen times.

In the end, the only answer I got was the sound of Emma moaning on the other end of the line.

It wasn't until the next afternoon that Miles heard about my miscarriage from his secretary.

He didn't offer much of an explanation.

He only said two things to me.

"It's just as well it's gone. Saves the trouble."

"Remember to take your medicine on schedule from now on."

And with that, he signed the villa over to me.

Back then I laughed and told myself it was fine.

An unborn child for a villa worth over a hundred million.

Not a bad trade.

But now, watching the tenderness in Miles's eyes, watching him so full of anticipation, I felt an ache in my chest unlike anything I'd ever felt before, and I couldn't even say where it came from.

"Why are you only getting here now?"

Miles's voice cut into my memories.

His gaze swept over my pale face before shifting toward the kitchen.

"The fish is already cleaned. Emma can't stand the smell. Be careful when you're cooking."

I smiled.

A gold-digger, a mistress.

What right did I have to be upset, to make a scene?

I nodded and walked obediently into the kitchen.

Behind me came wave after wave of laughter, open and undisguised.

"Oh my, our little Mrs. Farley really is such a good little wife."