Chapter 3: All Masks Are Off

Regina’s POV

My lips went numb. A wave of nausea surged so hard I bent at the waist, clutching the edge of the dresser just to stay upright. My vision swam, sweat broke along my spine, and I could feel the blood draining from my face.

“Regina?” Maxwell’s voice snapped like a whip. But he didn’t move. Didn’t come closer.

I tried to speak, to explain. I’m pregnant, I need help. But all that came out was a shallow gasp.

He folded his arms, jaw tight enough to crack. “Don’t,” Maxwell said, voice filled with disdain . “Whatever this is, this performance, it won’t work on me.”

My knees buckled, and I clung to the dresser like it was the only thing anchoring me.  “I’m not acting,” I whispered, voice rasping at the end.

He looked at me like I was something broken beyond repair. “You’ve always been strong. Fit. The kind of woman who ran five miles before breakfast. And now what? You suddenly faint at the sight of a mirror?” He scoffed, disgusted. “You think pretending to collapse is going to make me forget what you’ve done?”

I stared at him, stunned. “I’m not pretending.”

But he was already turning to the staff. “She stays here until she gets her head on straight. No visitors. And keep her off the grounds. I don’t want her wandering around causing more scenes.”

Something cracked inside me. I watched his back as he walked away, crisp and indifferent. That man had once whispered he couldn’t breathe without me.

Now he wouldn’t even look me in the eye.

There was no one else who could help me. My in-laws had settled abroad, my friends kept away, and the man I trusted most had left me caged in a house that no longer felt like home.

And worst of all... he didn’t even care enough to ask why I was falling apart.

My eyes flicked to Morgana then.

I moved towards her and gripped her arm, desperate. “Please,” I whispered. “You know I didn’t do this. Just tell him. Help me get out of here. Just this once.”

Her lips curled into that infuriating little smirk. “Oh, Regina,” she said, gently prying my fingers off her. “You still don’t get it, do you? I’m not here to help you. I never was.”

I stared at her, stunned. “But I brought you in. I vouched for you. I gave you everything.”

“And I took it,” she said with a shrug, stepping back. “That’s what happens when someone leaves the door open and then hands me the keys.”

My stomach twisted. “You’re sick,” I muttered, voice shaking.

“No,” she said with mock sweetness. “I’m just better at playing the game.”

I took a step forward, heart pounding. “He won’t believe you forever. He’ll see through you.”

She laughed. Actually laughed. “Maxwell doesn’t see anything but what I show him. And right now? He sees a broken, jealous woman who can’t accept responsibility for her own mess. You’ll stay here, Regina. Behave. Stay quiet. Or I’ll use… other ways to keep you in line.”

A cold wave slid down my spine. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.” She turned to leave, then looked over her shoulder. “This little meltdown of yours? It’s only helping me. Keep it up.”

As the door clicked shut behind her, regret clawed at my chest. I had trusted her. I had trusted her. Invited her into my life, my home, into his world. I stepped aside so she could shine.

And now she’d sunk the knife in so deep, I couldn’t even tell where the bleeding started.

Morgana turned to the staff and barked, “Keep a close watch on her. And don’t fall for her little sob stories. She’s very good at pretending.”

I could barely stand. My legs still trembled from earlier, and my vision swam, but I caught the way the staff glanced at each other before turning to me.

The change in their faces was instant. All the fake politeness drained away, revealing sneers, curled lips, and narrowed eyes.

“So this is the mighty Mrs. Chamberlain?” one of them mocked, stepping forward. “Doesn’t look so mighty now.”

Another snatched my wrist. “Move.”

“Wait! Please...” I managed to whisper, but it only made them laugh.

“Save your breath,” one snapped. “Should’ve thought about that before playing innocent.”

They dragged me back to the far end of the room like I was nothing. My arm twisted awkwardly behind me, my knees scraping the floor. My body throbbed with pain, but worse was the burn of humiliation.

Once they finally left, slamming the door behind them, I stayed where I was, curled up on the cold bed, shaking.

I pressed a trembling hand to my belly.

I hadn’t told Maxwell. I wouldn’t. Not now. He didn’t deserve to know.

But then my heart stuttered. That reaction earlier, the nausea, the dizziness, it wasn’t normal.

What if the juice Morgana gave me...

No.

Tears welled up as I whispered to the tiny life inside me, “Hold on. Please. Just hold on.”