Chapter 0003

Charlotte’s POV

Her words kept ringing in my ear. His too

Apologize? To her?

I wanted to leave, I really wanted to, but I thought about everything I had gone through with him, how I’d lost my chances of getting a better job. I couldn’t just give up, I wouldn’t.

“I’m sorry,” I said, the words choking their way out. They tasted bitter. 

Mia smiled, no, she smirked. A slow curve of her lips that screamed conquest. She rested a hand on Drake’s arm as though claiming a prize.

“It’s okay, Drake,” she said sweetly. “Charlotte didn’t mean it. It was just a little accident, right?”

I swallowed hard and turned my face away. 

Accident. That word echoed like mockery. She had orchestrated the entire thing and now she was acting like the victim.

"Go clean yourself up and make sure this coffee is cleaned up," Drake said casually. “Mia, you can use my card to replace your outfit. Charlotte, make sure that everything with the design team is finalized today.”

I stood frozen, his words slicing through what little remained of my composure. Then Mia kissed his cheek and walked past me, her perfume lingering like poison in the air. She didn’t need to say anything. Her silence screamed, louder than words ever could:  “You’ve already lost.”

“Drake.” I barely recognized my own voice.

He didn’t look up. His fingers danced across his keyboard, his eyes fixed on the screen.

“Drake, I’m your wife. I walk in on another woman kissing you, and you expect me to act like it’s nothing?”

His sigh was deep, theatrical. “There should be a mop in the storage closet,” he said, brushing me off like a bothersome intern.

“Drake.”

That got his attention. He slammed his palm on the desk and finally looked up. “What the fuck do you want now, Charlotte? ”

I stared at him, really stared and for the first time, I saw him clearly. Not the man I fell in love with. Not even the man I thought I married. Just a stranger wearing his face.

“It’s been six years,” I said, the words heavier than I expected. “Six years of giving you everything. My career. My loyalty. My name. And this is all I get? Being tossed aside and humiliated??”

A flicker of annoyance passed through his eyes. Then indifference.

“What do you want, Charlotte? What exactly is it that you want me to do? You were a business arrangement, and you know this. That’s all you’ve ever been to me.”

He didn’t even flinch when he said it.

“You said you loved me.”

He scoffed and banged his hand on the table. “Then I lied.”

I clenched my fist tightly. “I’m taking the day off,” I said and began to walk away, ignoring him as he called me back.

I didn’t need Trevor to drive me home, I just wanted to leave, not to go home, but any other place.

As I walked out of the Watson holding building, I could swear that everyone was looking at me, that they had seen and heard what had happened. That they knew that I was nothing more than a puppet.

I didn’t return home that night and he didn’t call. He didn’t care and I wondered if he had even slept home, if he wasn’t curled up somewhere with Mia.

*******

It was around nine am when I entered the familiar building. I smiled to myself as I drove to the parking lot. 

Nearly every day for the last eight years, I had entered   this building  exactly one hour before Drake would.

Today however, I came late and knew that he would be there, and frankly, after yesterday, I didn't know how to face him.

I forced a smile as I walked into the office as though nothing had happened, just as I always did. Just as I tried for the past six years to make everybody believe that our marriage was perfect.

Today, I paid extra attention to my outfit. I wore a dark green body con dress that stopped  right above my knee, pairing it up with small pearl earrings and a dainty watch on my  wrist.

My  auburn hair had been put into a neat bun on top of my head and I wore red lipstick which seemed to be just right for my skin tone  and just right with the rest of the makeup.

The lobby buzzed with corporate rhythm, heels clicking  the marbled floor, phones ringing, polite greetings exchanged with empty smiles. 

The elevator ride to the executive floor felt longer than usual. As the doors opened, a hush swept across the room.

Every head turned.

I swallowed hard and squared my shoulder. They knew.

Sylvia, the boring woman from the accounting unit, found urgent fascination in her stapler. Martin, the new intern, pretended to sip cold coffee. Jen, the one I thought was my friend, wouldn't meet my gaze.

I forced myself to my desk, dropped my bag beside my computer and traced my hand along the desk. I had built my name here, despite my modest background. Harvard graduate, top of my class. I had earned every inch of my corner office.

I sat down and glanced at the strange file on my desk. It was the file from the design team.

Fine! I could lose him, but I wouldn’t lose all I had worked for in this company. I'll be busy at work and forget about everything. I could do that.

“The gold-digger finally arrives.”

The venom-laced whisper came from the hallway. I froze, my fingers gripping the file in my hand until the paper crinkled.

A woman I didn’t recognize stood outside the conference room, poised like a lioness in designer heels. Her honey-highlighted shone with elegance, and a pearl necklace glinted at her throat. She looked like she’d stepped off the cover of a high-society magazine, and she was glaring straight at me.

“I beg your pardon?” I asked, my voice icy.

Everyone was quiet, now listening to us.

She tilted her head. “Oh, don’t act surprised. You’ve made quite a name for yourself in this building, haven’t you?” She said, stopping just in front of my desk.

“Who are you?”

She smiled, showing all her teeth. “Alexandra Winters. The new Director of Strategic Development.”

My stomach dropped. “What?”

“Alex!” Mia’s voice came from behind. “I’m glad you made it.”

I stood up, my eyes darting from Mia’s to the strange woman’s. 

Mia chuckled, exchanging handshakes with the woman before she turned to me. “Yes, Charlotte. Alexandra will be overseeing your department. Effective immediately.”

I turned to Mia, disbelief tightening around my ribs. “My department?” I scoffed. “What is going on here? I am the director of strategic development!” Drake had given me that position immediately after our marriage, but it was in name only, I had no real power. 

Still, it hurt to have it taken away from me just like that.

“I thought you understood,” Mia said, blinking innocently. “This transition has been in motion for quite a  while now, Drake didn’t tell you?”

I stared at her. At Alexandra. At the vultures circling my career. This couldn’t be real. Drake would have told me. He would have…

Would he?

Of course not. Not anymore.

“You have no authority to do this,” I said, my voice dangerously low. 

Mia blocked my path before I could storm into Drake’s office. “Where do you think you're going?”

“To speak to my husband.” My boss.

Alexandra laughed, a cruel, musical sound. “You mean the man whose bed you climbed into to skip the corporate ladder?”

The words hit me like bullets. 

“What did you just say?”

“That you slept your way into this position straight out of business school, and that was  the reason you landed this role? I didn’t lie, did I?” 

 

The accusation struck with brutal force. I had graduated top of my class at Harvard. I had worked eighty-hour weeks. I had sacrificed everything for my career. And now these conspirators were reducing all my accomplishments to this?

 

My fingers curled into a ball. “You know nothing,” I whispered.

“Oh, come now,” she purred. “You didn’t think you could hide it forever, did you? Everyone talks. Everyone knows,” she leaned closer to me, such that the other employees wouldn’t hear what she had to say. “You were a pretty little consolation prize while Mia was in Milan.”

“She’s right,” Mia added with theatrical pity. “Drake may have married you, but everyone knew it was me he wanted.”

“Stop.” My voice cracked. “Just stop.”

Alexandra advanced, her words slow and deliberate. “You were a mistake, Charlotte. A distraction. And now, you're being corrected. You might have slept your way to this role, but you certainly can’t keep it through the same methods.”

Heat flared in my chest. Anger, shame, betrayal, it all tangled into a single, unbearable ache. My knees weakened.

“Who do you think you are to do all of this?” I spat out, facing Mia.

“Your replacement.” Mia chuckled. 

“Of course!” 

I clenched my fist tightly, willing myself to stay strong, to not breakdown in front of them, but I couldn’t, 

I felt the tears slipping down my face as I  grabbed my bag and rushed out, ignoring the gazes that followed me. I didn't stop until I got to the parking lot.

Just like the day before, I didn’t let the driver take me, I drove myself, the tears blurring my vision until I reached the Memorial Hospital, my heart slamming hard against my chest.

 

Dr. Sullivan was kind and professional. He reminded me of my father when he spoke.

He kept reassuring me that everything was fine while he did the scan and when he was done, he handed me a bottle of water.

“You don’t look too good, Mrs. Watson, is everything well?”

I forced a smile. “Yes, I’m just tired.”

He didn’t seem convinced, but said nothing about it. I kept my hands protectively on my still fist stomach as he cleared his throat.

“Your baby’s fine,” he said gently.

I closed my eyes, exhaling as the fear drained from my limbs.

“But..” he hesitated, his brows pulling together in seriousness. 

The new life growing inside me gives me hope, it’s the strength I’m relying on to ensure that  Mia doesn’t become my replacement.

Drake wouldn’t turn away his own child.

 

"You need to avoid emotional distress at all costs. Your blood pressure is dangerously elevated, and that poses a significant risk to both you and the baby. Do you understand?" His gaze was stern but compassionate

I nodded. What choice did I have?

As I moved toward reception, a familiar laughter in the hallway sent a chill down my spine.

 I froze, my gaze drawn to the sound like a moth to flame.

 

Drake.

 He sat in the waiting area, his tall frame making the standard chair look small and beside him was a redhead, I recognized her voice instantly, Mia.

 He had his arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders as a nurse examined what appeared to be a minor scratch on her forearm, likely from the coffee incident she orchestrated. They looked intimate, comfortable. Mia leaned into him with the ease of someone who belonged there.

 

My stomach twisted tightly. So while my world was falling apart, while our child was at risk, he was here playing a concerned boyfriend to the woman who had just humiliated me?

Something broke inside me and I whipped out my phone from my bag. 

With trembling hands, I typed:

‘I’m pregnant. Meet me in Room 218. We need to talk.’

I hit send and watched him. He glanced at his phone and then furrowed his brows as he read it and then his eyes risked around the hallway until they landed on me. He didn’t say anything, he just averted his gaze and pocketed his phone.

 His expression was unreadable but I smiled. He would never abandon his child. 

I walked to ward 218, my heart racing in anticipation. He would tell me that he was sorry and that Mia had been a distraction.

I giggled quietly to myself as I thought about what I’d say to him. 

Suddenly, the door creaked open and I turned around. 

I looked up.

It wasn’t Drake who entered the room.

It was Mia.