Chapter 4

The silence dragged on until it became almost unbearable. My stomach was empty, but even the thought of eating made nausea rise in my throat.

Then I heard the lock turn.

I remained seated on the floor, watching as the door opened and Vanessa quietly stepped inside with a tray. A bowl of soup sat beside a glass of water.

“Serena?” she called softly, coating her voice in exaggerated concern. “You must be starving. I brought you something to eat.”

“Take it and leave,” I muttered without looking at her.

Vanessa sighed as though I were the unreasonable one and placed the tray on the nightstand. She perched herself on the edge of the bed, casually smoothing down the skirt she was wearing—my skirt.

“I don't want us to keep fighting,” she said. “I only want you to accept what has happened and stop making things harder for yourself.”

I finally raised my eyes.

“Accept what, exactly? That you're sleeping with my husband?”

Her expression barely changed.

“Adrian and I love each other. We understand one another in ways you never did. He needs a woman who knows what he wants and can give him the life he's looking for.”

“A son,” I said bitterly. “You're talking about the heir I couldn't give him because he tried to have me killed.”

“Don't make yourself miserable over it,” she replied, reaching toward me. “You need to be honest about what happened. You were never suited to Adrian. You were always too delicate, too easily broken.”

I stared at her.

“I was his wife.”

“And you betrayed him.”

The accusation came so casually that my anger surged.

“You know that's fabricated. You arranged those photographs and paid someone to make it look as though I was seeing another man.”

Vanessa's shoulders lifted in a small shrug.

“Maybe I did. But what difference does it make?”

She looked directly into my eyes, and for the first time, the sweetness disappeared completely.

“Adrian believes me. That's the only part that matters.”

“You're disgusting.”

A satisfied smile slowly spread across her face.

She rose and came toward me until she was standing over me as though I were something filthy beneath her shoes.

“Call me whatever makes you feel better. It doesn't change anything. Adrian wants me now. You're barren, Serena. There's nothing left inside you that he needs. You're like a useless machine that has stopped working when he already has a perfect replacement.”

Her hand drifted deliberately over her stomach.

I had to force myself to breathe.

I wouldn't cry in front of her. I refused to give Vanessa the pleasure of watching me fall apart.

Slowly, I pushed myself upright, ignoring the sharp pull of my stitches.

“You may be right,” I said, keeping my voice calm. “Adrian might want you. He might sleep beside you every night. But there's something you seem to have forgotten.”

Vanessa's brow furrowed.

“What?”

I moved closer until there was barely any space between us.

“He locked me in this room because he refuses to let me leave. He told me himself that he won't divorce me.”

Her expression tightened.

“So while I'm still alive, I'm Mrs. Adrian Whitmore. I'm the woman who carries his name and holds the legal place beside him.”

I pressed one finger against her chest.

“And you? You're still his mistress. You're the woman he keeps hidden whenever it's convenient. You're only waiting for him to decide that he's tired of you, and believe me, Vanessa, Adrian gets tired of everything eventually.”

The color rushed into her face.

“You really think a marriage certificate gives you power over him?” she snapped. “He despises you.”

“He despises the fact that he can't completely control me,” I replied. “And he certainly despises that he still has a reason to keep me alive. If he didn't need something from me, I wouldn't be standing here.”

Vanessa's hands tightened into fists.

For a moment, she looked as though she might say something else, but instead she spun around and headed toward the door.

“Enjoy your dinner, Mrs. Whitmore,” she said with a bitter smile. “I'll be upstairs enjoying my night with your husband.”

The door slammed behind her, and the lock turned once more.

I spent the rest of the night awake, trapped between pain and restless thoughts. By the time pale sunlight began filtering through the curtains, I had barely slept.

The lock turned again.

Adrian entered carrying a cup of coffee, which he placed on the bedside table with the casual ease of a husband beginning an ordinary morning.

“Good morning, Serena.”

I sat up and pulled the duvet higher over my body.

“Adrian?”

“I assume you've had enough time to settle down,” he said, adjusting his cufflinks. “You were rather emotional yesterday. Frankly, I found it concerning.”

“I was grieving,” I answered cautiously, studying his face.

“Of course. Losing a child can affect a woman's judgment.”

He said it as though my grief were merely an unfortunate side effect.

Then he glanced at his watch.

“There's something we need to take care of. My grandfather turns eighty tomorrow, and the family is hosting a formal dinner. We need to attend, and we can't arrive empty-handed.”

He looked at me with an expression that made it clear this wasn't a request.

“I'm going into the city to find a suitable gift at the auction house. You're coming with me.”

I stared at him.

“I'm going?”

“Obviously. We need to show everyone that we're still united. The last thing I need is more gossip.”

He paused before adding, “Vanessa will be joining us.”

My hands tightened beneath the blanket.

“Vanessa?”

“She has better taste when it comes to these things. And after what you did to her last night, you owe her an apology.”

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

“You want me to apologize to the woman who's sleeping with you?”

His expression immediately hardened.

“You will apologize to my sister-in-law for putting your hands on her.”

The carefully controlled husband disappeared for an instant, revealing the anger underneath.

“And if you can't manage something as simple as behaving civilly, perhaps the hospital was right to question your mental stability.”

He waited for me to react.

He wanted the screaming, the tears, the accusations. He expected the same Serena who had spent years demanding fairness from him.

But that woman had died in the hospital.

I inhaled slowly and arranged my face into something resembling a smile. It felt stiff and unnatural, but I kept it there.

“You're right, Adrian.”

His eyebrows lifted.

“I am?”

“Of course. I wasn't myself yesterday. I was overwhelmed by the loss, and I shouldn't have pushed Vanessa. She's family, after all.”

I lowered my gaze, carefully pretending to be ashamed.

“I'd like to come with you tomorrow. I'd also like to make things right.”

Adrian watched me for several seconds, clearly looking for the anger he expected to find.

When he found nothing, his mouth curved into a pleased smile.

“That's better. I knew you would eventually understand.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out my phone.

“Get ready. We're leaving in an hour.”

He tossed the phone onto the bed, then paused at the doorway.

“And Serena? Don't give me a reason to regret trusting you with this.”

He walked away.

This time, the door remained unlocked.

I waited until his footsteps disappeared before snatching the phone from the bed. My hands shook as I turned it on, but there was no fear behind the trembling. It was anticipation.

Dozens of missed calls appeared from my mother and several friends whose loyalty I no longer knew whether to trust.

I ignored every one.

There was only a single message I cared about.

It came from a contact saved under one name.

Damien.

I opened it.

I'll be seeing you soon, future wife. Make sure you're ready.