Chapter 1—He Wants A Divorce

MONIQUE

“You’re five weeks pregnant, Mon.”

Trevor’s warm voice echoed in my ears like the sweetest melody.

My pupils trembled as I looked at the ultrasound photo on his desk, my heart fluttering so wildly I could barely breathe.

He’s my husband’s best friend and the doctor who had just confirmed my pregnancy. With gentle hands and warm gaze, he had placed the black-and-white image into mine.

“Congratulations! Max is one lucky man.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, pressing the photo tight against my chest as hot tears stung the corners of my eyes. I couldn’t stop the smile that kept breaking across my face.

There was nothing visible yet.

But I could feel it.

A tiny, fragile miracle… growing inside me.

After ten long years of loving Maxwell Lohr, one of the most powerful and sought-after men in the world, and five years of marriage, it was finally happening.

Our baby.

As an orphan who had drifted from one foster home to another, wearing hand-me-downs and carrying a quiet, aching longing for belonging… I was finally going to have a family of my own.

With him.

Who would even believe that I got the man?

I kept giggling and biting my lip as I hurried out of the hospital, trying but failing to contain the overwhelming joy bubbling inside me.

“Ross, let’s go home!” I called, slipping into the backseat.

As the car pulled away, I quickly dialed Maxwell's number. He didn’t answer the first time. Or the second.

On the third call, he finally picked up.

“What is it?” His voice was cold, distant.

I smiled widely anyway, unable to stop myself. “Hi, hubby! Are you still busy? I thought you were coming home tomorrow. Have you packed yet?”

“I’m in the middle of something,” he said flatly. “I’ll be home tomorrow. We’ll talk then.”

The line went dead before I could say I love you and I miss you.

“Oh…”

I stared at my phone for a second, but the disappointment didn’t linger. My happiness was too big, too overwhelming to be dimmed.

Maxwell was always busy. He ran one of the most successful companies in the world—constant meetings, endless business trips abroad. I had long since grown used to the empty mansion and the quiet dinners alone.

It didn’t matter.

He was doing this for our future.

For our child.

A soft laugh escaped me as I pressed a hand to my stomach, my heart swelling.

“Ross,” I said suddenly, leaning forward, “change of plans. Take me to my in-laws’ mansion.”

“Yes, Mrs. Lohr.”

I simply couldn’t keep the secret for another minute… I had to tell someone.

My in-laws would be first. They’d be thrilled, even if this wouldn’t technically be their first grandchild.

Elise—the girl they had raised like a daughter since she was thirteen, after her parents died in an accident—had already given birth to a little boy named Ambrose four years ago. She never revealed the father, so the entire Lohr family stepped in without hesitation, taking full responsibility for both of them.

Ever since Ambrose came into this world, Maxwell had always been unusually attentive toward him.

Sometimes… even more than an uncle should be. Like when the time Ambrose was burning with fever, he cancelled our anniversary date to personally drive the boy to the emergency. Or the time he accompanied Elise to bring the boy to the dentist because he's scared.

But I never questioned it.

But now?

This was different.

This time… I was carrying his child.

Ours.

Just thinking about it made my chest tighten with happiness.

The gates of the Lohrs’ estate opened, and my excitement only grew. I slipped out of my sandals at the entrance, changing into house slippers as I stepped inside, a smile already forming on my lips.

Voices drifted from the living room.

Warm laughter.

A child’s bright giggle.

Ambrose.

Perfect. It sounded like everyone was already here.

I slowed my steps, a playful idea forming as I moved quietly past a tall potted palm near the entrance.

Then I heard my mother-in-law Laurel’s delighted voice drifting clearly through the air.

“Oh my, Ambrose looks more like you every single day, Max.”

A familiar low, warm chuckle followed.

Maxwell?

I froze mid-step.

I thought he was still out of the country…?

“Of course he does,” Maxwell answered, his tone easy and affectionate in a way I hadn’t heard in years. “He’s my son. It’s only natural.”

My fingers tightened around the ultrasound photo until the edges creased sharply.

My son?

No… I must have misheard.

But my feet kept carrying me forward anyway, drawn by some invisible force I couldn’t fight.

And then I saw them.

Maxwell lounged back comfortably in the large leather armchair, the afternoon sunlight glinting off the infinity pool visible through the glass wall behind him. Little Ambrose sat nestled on his lap, clutching a bright red toy airplane, his dark brown curls and vivid green eyes an unmistakable mirror of the man holding him.

Elise perched casually on the wide armrest right beside them, her hand resting on Maxwell’s shoulder in a gesture that looked far too intimate, far too comfortable.

“Ambrose, sweetheart,” she cooed gently, brushing a stray curl from the boy’s forehead, “do you like the toy Daddy gave you?”

“Yes, Mommy!” the little boy chirped happily, waving the airplane in the air. “I like it so much!”

Maxwell smiled—that soft, genuine smile I used to see every day when we were teenagers. I hadn’t seen it in so long that it almost felt like the first time all over again.

Then he leaned down and kissed the child’s head.

“Daddy, I’m so happy you’re home!” Ambrose added so sweetly it made my stomach turn.

A broken, involuntary sound tore from my throat before I could stop it.

Maxwell’s head snapped up instantly. For the briefest split second, shock flashed across his handsome features. Then it was gone, smoothed away and replaced by cool, indifferent calm.

“Oh,” he said simply. “You’re here.”

Every head turned toward me. Laurel and my father-in-law, Derrick, fell silent mid-laugh. Their warm smiles faltered, then hardened into something colder and more guarded.

I stepped fully into the living room on legs that suddenly felt boneless and unsteady.

“What… is this?” My voice came out small and hoarse.

Elise gasped and was the first to move. She rushed toward me, grabbing both of my hands in hers. Her grip was cold and slightly trembling.

“Monique… please, just listen to me for a second.”

I didn’t pull away. I couldn’t. My body felt frozen in place.

“Five years ago…” The words tumbled out of her in a shaky rush.

“Maxwell and I… we were drunk. It was a stupid mistake. I never meant for any of this to happen. I didn’t want to ruin your marriage, so when I found out I was pregnant I kept it a secret. But Ambrose… he started asking about his father more and more and I just… I couldn’t hide it anymore.”

The room seemed to tilt around me.

All I could focus on was the little boy still sitting happily on Maxwell’s lap, looking so much like him it made my chest ache with every breath.

Maxwell stood slowly, setting Ambrose down on the floor with careful, protective hands.

“Monique,” he said, his voice flat and controlled. “We need to talk.”

My throat tightened. “Y-You’re the father?”

The words barely made it out.

“But she’s… she’s like your sister.”

“No.”

His gaze didn’t waver.

“She never was.”

Laurel crossed her arms over her chest, her expression tightening. “Let’s not make this any more difficult than it has to be. The boy deserves to know his father. And that father is Maxwell.”

Derrick placed a steadying hand on his wife’s shoulder and added calmly, “Elise has always been family. She belongs here with us.”

“She belongs?” The words scraped out of me, raw and incredulous. “And what about me? Didn’t I belong too?”

I looked straight at Maxwell, my vision starting to blur with unshed tears. “Max… please. Tell me this isn’t true.”

He exhaled slowly, a flicker of irritation crossing his face.

“We haven’t had a real marriage in years,” he said, each word deliberate and cold. “Let’s not pretend otherwise.”

Each word struck like a blade.

What? Not real?

“I’m choosing them,” he continued without hesitation. “Elise and my son. I want a divorce.”