Chapter 2

The hallway felt endless.

The fluorescent lights were blindingly white.

I leaned against the cold wall, dragging myself forward inch by inch.

Contractions came faster and harder now.

It felt like an invisible hand was tearing my insides apart.

I grit my teeth, refusing to make a sound.

Amniotic fluid kept dripping down my legs.

I left a horrifying trail of wet stains on the tiles.

At the end of the hall was the hospital's most luxurious VIP suite.

The door was half-open.

The warmth drifting out carried a faint scent of expensive French perfume.

Luke had personally imported it from France, claiming it was for soothing anxiety.

He had never let me use it, saying it wasn't good for pregnant women.

As it turned out, he was saving it for his "childhood friend."

I stopped ten paces away.

Through the crack in the door, I saw them.

Luke was in his crisp white lab coat, his back to me.

Holding onto him, dressed in silk hospital pajamas, was Lily Brooks.

I knew that name all too well.

Luke had a contact named "Lily" saved on his SnapChat.

He told me she was just a poor college student he was sponsoring, someone who saw him as an older brother.

I had once offered to meet her.

Luke declined, claiming she was too self-conscious and shy around strangers.

Now I realized she wasn't shy.

She was just terrified that I, his legal wife, would ruin her game.

"Luke, the MRI was so scary. It was so dark inside. I thought I'd never make it out," Lily whimpered, her voice dripping with helpless tears.

Luke leaned down.

He wiped her tears with incredible tenderness.

That was the gentle touch he used to reserve only for when I was sick.

"Shh, you're fine now. Haven't I been right here with you?"

His deep voice was laced with infinite patience.

Lily snuggled deeper into his chest.

"But what about your wife? You're staying with me and forcing her to delay her labor. Will she be okay?"

She looked up at him, her tone full of fake worry.

But her eyes danced with triumph.

Luke let out a soft chuckle.

To my ears, that laugh sounded like a poisoned blade.

"She’s just a gold-digging housewife. She won't die."

"Even if something happens, we can just throw some money at it."

*A gold-digging housewife.*

*Throw some money at it.*

I stood there, shivering violently.

My fingernails dug so deep into my palms that they drew blood, but I felt nothing.

This was the man I had loved for three years.

The man who once walked through a torrential downpour across three neighborhoods just to buy me a strawberry cake from Amazon.

The man who stayed up all night massaging my swollen legs when my morning sickness was unbearable.

Now, my life was nothing but trash to him.

Just a bargaining chip to please another woman.

Lily's sharp eyes caught me standing outside.

She didn't panic.

Instead, her lips curled into a mocking smirk.

She reached up and gently stroked Luke's face.

Her sleeve slid down.

Revealing an exquisite emerald bracelet on her wrist.

An imperial green emerald of the highest quality.

That was my mother’s heirloom.

Last month, Luke told me the clasp was loose and offered to take it for servicing.

And then, he put it on this woman's wrist.

"Luke, that pregnant lady is staring at us. It's kind of creepy," Lily whimpered, pretending to be scared.

Luke didn't even turn around.

"Ignore those lowlifes."

He wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"Come on, let’s get some lobster rolls downtown. Isn't that your favorite?"

He guided her toward the private elevator inside the suite.

The entire time, he didn't spare me a single glance.

The elevator doors slowly slid shut.

Cutting off the sight of their intertwined bodies.

I leaned against the icy wall, gasping for air.

My eyes burned.

But I didn't cry.

I closed my eyes, forcing the hot tears back.

When I opened them again, there was only bone-chilling cold.

Luke Carter.

Since you love playing games so much.

I'll play a big one with you.

Let’s see how long a pathetic social climber like you can stay on top.