Arranged To Marry The Enemy

On the 28th birthday of my mafia husband, Lawrence Ardent, I personally baked his favorite mango cake. However, when I brought it to the banquet hall, I was met with the sight of his childhood sweetheart flirtatiously lifting a glass of wine to his lips.

Everyone around them was cheering, "Kiss her! Kiss her!"

"This is your chance, Don Ardent! You've always regretted not marrying Eloise, no? Now is your time to get all lovey-dovey with her!"

Laughter erupted as the crowd closed in on them. Lawrence braced his arms against the wall, shielding Eloise Rosenveil in his arms.

Eloise's cheeks flushed crimson as she brushed her face with her wineglass and murmured, "Stop it. Sylvie will get jealous if she sees us. She's Lawrence's wife, not me."

Lawrence lowered his head. The way he looked at her was tender in a way I'd never seen before.

"Eloise, you're the one Don Ardent has always loved. That woman is just your stand-in. Now that you're back, there's no place for her anymore. Say the word, and he'll send her packing in a few days!"

"Exactly! How could that woman ever compare to you? The only reason Don Ardent married her was because she looked similar to you. She's nothing but your replacement."

"No matter how much she tries to act like you, she'll never be you. There's no way Don Ardent would actually fall for her!"

My grip on the cake box gradually tightened as I stared blankly at the two of them pressed so closely together.

In response to everyone's teasing, Lawrence merely smiled and told them to stop messing around. His gaze never left Eloise, and he held her close as if she were something precious he needed to protect.

That gentle demeanor of his was something I'd never seen before. The lively and intimate atmosphere surrounding them felt like a world I would never belong to.

From the moment he didn't push her away, I knew our marriage had already reached its end. Clutching the cake, I silently took a step back and turned to leave.

Unfortunately, Eloise noticed me standing at the door and called out, "Where are you going, Sylvie?"

She shot Lawrence a coy glare, smoothed her dress, and walked toward me. "Don't leave, Sylvie! You must've gotten the wrong idea. We were just playing a game of truth or dare, and I lost.

"There's nothing going on between me and Lawrie!"

The others, startled by my sudden appearance, began to scatter with awkward excuses.

Lawrence frowned. Impatience edging his voice, he said, "That's enough, Sylvie. It's just a game. Don't make a scene and ruin everyone's mood."

Instinctively, I covered my slightly rounded belly as a dull ache spread through my chest.

The corners of Eloise's lips curled slightly, and her eyes glimmered with triumph. "You're scaring her, Lawrie. Sylvie even brought you a cake to celebrate your birthday. Don't be so harsh on her!"

Then, she reached for the box in my hands and talked to me as if she were Lawrence's wife, "Don't be afraid. Lawrie's all bark and no bite."

I instinctively tightened my grip on the string of the cake box, yet she let out a shrill scream as the cake slipped out of the box and landed on her gown. "My dress!"

Tears instantly welled up in her eyes, and she looked piteously at Lawrence. "Sylvie didn't do it on purpose, Lawrie! Don't blame her."

"Sylvie, if you're mad, you can take it out on me. Don't hurt Eloise! You're going to be a mother soon. Why are you still so short-tempered?" He yanked Eloise to his side and shot me an irritated look.

"Think about what you've done. Come find me only when you realize your mistake." Then, he carefully guided Eloise past me.

Out of nowhere, something struck my leg, and I went tumbling down the stairs. Pain ripped through me. Staring at Lawrence's retreating figure, I cried out in agony, "Don't go, Lawrence! My stomach…"