DIBUANG LAKI-LAKI PECUNDANG DINIKAHI ANAK SULTAN

Alice’s POV

How about I give you a baby?” I turned my head to look at my husband beside me and tried to cl“imb onto his chest with my hands to caress it.

“Alice, how many times have I told you,” he drawled while getting out of the bed, his voice clipped and irritated. “It was my grandfather’s wish that I marry you. Don’t try to tie me down with a child”

 I sat up, clutching the sheets, trying not to let the sting show on my face. “I didn’t mean it like that,” I murmured, biting my lip to keep the tremor in my voice from escaping. “I wasn’t trying to trap you.”

He rolled his eyes the way he always did when he thought I was being naive. “Alice, stop. We both know what this is.”

Before I could answer, his phone rang. He froze when he saw the caller ID. Then Lily’s fragile voice spilled through the speaker, “David, Lucas is dead. The private jet he was on to LA this morning—crashed.”

Lucas was David's cousin. David froze for a second upon hearing this. But at the news of a family member's death, his face showed no sorrow—even a hint of excitement. Only I knew why: Lucas's death meant no one could stop David and Lily from being together anymore.

My breath caught, and I pressed a hand against my mouth. “Oh my God… Lucas…”

David stiffened but didn’t respond emotionally like a man hearing about his own cousin. “When did it happen?” he asked her, his tone suddenly soft, almost coaxing.

“It was on the news,” she whispered. “They said there were no survivors.”

I looked at him, waiting for grief to crack his calm exterior. Instead, something flickered behind his eyes, something bright and unsettling. Relief. Excitement. Hope. He tried to hide it, but I knew him too well.

“Are you alone right now?” he asked Lily, voice gentle in a way he never used with me.

“Yes,” she whispered, sounding like she might break. “I don’t know what to do.”

“You won’t be alone,” he said quietly. “I’ll come get you.”

When he hung up, he turned toward the closet, not toward me. “Alice, let’s end this contract marriage.”

Just like that. No hesitation. No pause. No breath wasted on pretending to consider my feelings.

My heart lurched. “David… please. Can’t we talk about it? Can’t you just think for one moment about everything we’ve been through? I know you used to care about me, even a little. That has to mean something.”

He sighed sharply, rubbing his forehead like I was exhausting him. “Alice, I don’t want to keep talking about this.”

But the memory was already crashing over me, a tidal wave dragging me backward.

At that party, both my sister Lily and I had drunk too much. I helped her back to her room, and when I returned to mine, I found the drunken David standing there.

He embraced me, his voice hoarse as he declared his love.

My heart soared, my head spinning. “David… are you sure you mean me?” I whispered, searching his eyes for confirmation.

He pressed his forehead to mine. “Who else would I mean?” he murmured. “I want you, Alice. Only you. Don’t leave me tonight.”

He kissed me then, slow and deep, his hands roaming my back as though memorizing every inch. His touch felt like a promise, his voice thick with longing as he whispered, “Let me make you happy. Let me give you everything.”

And I believed him. Every word. Because I’d loved him quietly for years and never imagined he could love me back.

I didn’t know he thought I was Lily. I didn’t know Lily was sneaking into Lucas’s room that same night. I didn’t know I was stepping right into a tragedy disguised as a dream.

The next day, the world found Lily in Lucas’s bed. Chaos followed. Rumors exploded. The families panicked. And David married me to preserve reputations, not because he loved me.

Back in the present, he finished adjusting his cuffs. “Don’t cause a scene at the funeral,” he warned.

At the cemetery, reporters hovered everywhere. People cried, whispered, clung to each other. I approached David hesitantly. “Are you alright?” I asked, touching his arm lightly.

“I’m fine,” he said without looking at me.

Lily approached him then, eyes red and trembling. “David… I can’t believe he’s gone.”

He touched her shoulder like she was made of glass. “I’m here. Don’t worry.”

I stepped closer, forcing a smile. “Lily, I’m so sorry for your loss.”

She barely acknowledged me, leaning further into David.

After the service, I tried again. “David, should we go home together?”

He barely glanced my way. “I’m taking Lily back. You can manage on your own.”

“David,” I snapped, hurt flaring through my chest, “we’re still married.”

“Not for long,” he said.

And there, in the passenger seat, sat Lily.

She leaned gently against his shoulder, her hair neat, her makeup fresh, her posture soft and delicate. They looked like newlyweds reunited after years apart, radiating sweetness. That sweetness hit me like acid. It wasn’t even that they were trying to hide it, it was worse. They weren’t hiding anything at all.

David stepped out of the car without rushing. He adjusted his cuff like he had all the time in the world, then looked at me as if I was the inconvenience.

I pushed a hand through my hair, realizing too late how tangled it was, how pitiful I looked. My thin dress clung to me in all the wrong places, and my knees felt weak. I straightened anyway because pride is sometimes the only thing that keeps you from collapsing.

He didn’t soften.

“Let’s divorce, Alice,” he said. “I’ll give you a fair price.”