Chapter 3

Lilly

“You’re five weeks pregnant, Mrs. McCallum.”

I stared at the file in my hands. Pregnant? I’m pregnant?

I was still outside the hospital. I had woken up three hours ago, and the doctor who had attended to me, and finally run proper tests, had delivered the news. I couldn't believe my ears. So, my exhaustion wasn't due to hunger; it was because I was carrying a child.

Dorcas’s warning from earlier echoed in my mind. So, she had known. She had seen it.

A tentative smile spread across my face. The doctor hadn’t told anyone else yet, and I had begged him to let me share the news with my husband myself.

I pushed my wheelchair to the roadside, expecting to find my own way home. I was waiting for a cab when a sleek, black limousine pulled up. I frowned as the glass rolled down.

I looked up to meet the cold, grey eyes of my husband’s uncle: Sabistan Rhys Hart. The man barely spoke, always moving with a commanding, terrifying presence. I never knew how to act around him, so I made it a point to avoid him at all costs.

I wondered why he was here. He had always acted as though I didn't exist.

I looked away, muttering a quick greeting and hoping he would just drive off. I was still on my phone when I heard him speak directly to me for the first time. His voice wasn't as cold as rumored, and I must confess, I hadn't expected it to unnerve me.

“Hop in. I’ll take you home.”

I looked up in shock. Was this man actually offering me a lift? I opened my mouth to respond, but he turned his gaze back to his iPad before I could get a word out.

“Drive, Duncan. She doesn’t want to.”

And before I could offer a polite refusal or accept, the car sped away. I was left there, gasping in total shock.

“What in the world was that?”

The cab I’d ordered finally stopped in front of me, and I climbed in, relieved I didn't have to endure a ride with that cold, enigmatic man.

When I arrived home, I realized the house was decorated as if for a celebration. I tried to remember whose birthday it was, and then it clicked: it was mine. I had been so occupied with everything else that I’d forgotten. But the house was dark and silent. Had they been planning a surprise all along?

I was halfway inside when I stopped. It wasn't my birthday they were celebrating; it was my twin sister’s. They had completely forgotten I existed. Still, it made me wonder, why was this party happening at my husband’s house?

The staff was so busy that no one noticed me until Dorcas helped me up the stairs. I made my way to my room, and my heart lifted when I saw Victor dressing.

“You look radiant,” I said.

He turned, his expression darkening. “Make some noise next time you come in, Liliana. Stop acting like a ghost.”

I paused. He seemed irritated to see me. He didn't even ask how I was, but that was fine. I would just tell him the news, and surely, that would bring joy to his face.

“Victor, I…”

“I don’t have time for a chitchat, Liliana. Save it for later.”

I frowned as I watched him adjust his suit; he looked breathtakingly handsome. He turned to leave, but I couldn't let this opportunity slip away. I turned my wheelchair to follow him, but I miscalculated my movement, causing me to stumble against the bedside table. I reached out to steady myself, but my hand caught the large frame of my sister’s portrait on the wall, sending it crashing to the floor with a deafening noise.

My heart stopped. Victor cherished that portrait! He wouldn't even let us display our wedding picture—we didn't even take one, to be precise.

Victor turned, his face twisting in fury. “What did you just do, you jealous bitch!” He barked, his voice louder than a volcanic eruption.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. I was just trying to…”

“Trying to what? Why do you always crave what was never yours? First, you caused the accident to marry me, then you stole her acting job—which you’re terrible at—and now you can’t even stand to see one piece of her in a house that was supposed to be hers? How much wickedness is stored in that heart of yours?”

“Victor, please.”

“Shut the fuck up!” he snapped. “I’m done with this pathetic excuse for a marriage. I’m done accommodating your useless self and looking at your ugly face! I wish you had died in that accident instead of her.”

He stormed out. I followed, pushing my wheelchair frantically as he descended to the living room. “I’m sorry, Victor! I’ll get a larger portrait, I promise! Please don't chase me out—I have nowhere to go, especially now that I’m…”

I stopped. The living room was vibrant, plastered with banners that read: Welcome Back, Alina and Happy Birthday, Alina. To my shock, the room was filled with people.

“I have nothing to do with you anymore,” Victor declared. “Alina is back.”

I froze. How? I had just left her at the hospital, hooked up to an oxygen mask.

Before I could question it, Harper came forward. “Come, brother. She’s being featured on live television.”

I watched in confusion as Victor broke into a smile and followed his sister, not sparing me a glance. I moved forward to see what the buzz was about, and my world stopped. On the TV, my sister, Alina, looked radiant and beautiful. The headline across the bottom of the screen read:

THE MOVIE GODDESS ALINA PENELOPE LEWISTON RETURNS WITH A BLOCKBUSTER AFTER A YEAR-LONG COMA. SHE IS SET TO MARRY THE ENIGMATIC BILLIONAIRE, VICTOR MCCALLUM.

I froze in my seat. What did that mean? I was still reeling when I heard the sharp click of heels resounding on the floor, and a familiar, sweet scent of vanilla filled the air.

I turned, and my lips parted. Alina walked into the room, dressed in a red gown. Her hair cascaded down her back; her face and body were flawless.

Her eyes landed on me, and she smiled. “Hello, sister.”