CH 3

Nora Hastings

My fingers tightened around my phone until my knuckles turned white. I wanted to crush it, imagining that I gripped that woman’s throat instead.

Anger surged through me, so intense that my teeth trembled.

I hated her.

She had sent that photograph deliberately, to remind me how little I meant to Ryan. After all, he had apparently bought two identical necklaces and given them to two different women.

My tears had finally dried. There was nothing left to cry over. I unclasped the necklace, opened the drawer of my dressing table, and dropped it inside. I didn’t want to see it again.

Then, I faced the mirror.

My reflection stared back at me. I traced the contours of my face with my fingertips, searching for some flaw I might have overlooked.

Was I too old for Ryan? Was I no longer attractive enough?

The questions made my stomach twist, but I forced myself to look away. I refused to let his betrayal turn into a judgment of my worth.

Before Ryan could return to the bedroom, I quickly changed and prepared to leave. I couldn’t bear the thought of spending another second looking at him.

When I said goodbye, confusion crossed his face. Usually, I would greet him with endless stories, cling to his arm, or shower him with affection whenever he came home. Today, I barely looked at him. He seemed puzzled by my sudden distance, but he didn’t stop me.

I spent almost the entire day at Sonya’s office, preparing the documents required for my new position. I also waited until the sky grew dark before heading home.

Sonya never questioned why I stayed so long. Instead, she brought me coffee and a book, telling me to make myself comfortable so I wouldn’t get bored.

I was grateful for her kindness. More than anything, I appreciated she didn’t force me to explain myself. By the time I returned home, night had fallen.

Ryan was in his study. Normally, I would have joined him, sitting nearby while he worked or chatting about whatever came to mind. Not tonight. I went straight to the bedroom. The farther I could stay from him, the better.

Later that evening, I was brushing my hair when Ryan appeared in the doorway. His eyes settled on me, lingering over my lingerie. His breathing grew heavier, and desire darkened his expression.

“Baby, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with affection.

I stopped brushing and turned to face him.

“Don’t come any closer.” I stepped backward, but he continued approaching.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, reaching for me.

I moved away, refusing to let him touch me.

Ryan didn’t seem to understand my reluctance. He caught me in his arms, his hands settling possessively against my back.

“I want you,” he whispered near my ear.

My entire body stiffened. I tried to pull away, but he held me firmly. Then he made an unexpected suggestion.

“Let’s have a baby. What do you think?”

For a moment, I couldn’t speak.

The photograph flashed through my mind. The woman wearing my necklace, the message about it, and the knowledge that Ryan had spent the previous night with her. The thought of letting him touch me made my stomach turn.

“I’m tired,” I said, keeping my voice as steady as possible. “I don’t want to do this tonight.”

Ryan finally released me and searched my face, confusion clouding his expression.

“I’m sorry. I just want you so badly. I love you so much.” His voice softened with what sounded like guilt.

I turned away. “Good night.”

“Good night,” he replied quietly.

That night, sleep never came.

I lay staring at the ceiling, unable to stop thinking about the photograph. Every time I closed my eyes, the image returned. By the time dawn arrived, I was still awake.

The following evening, Ryan and I drove through the gates of the Kingsley family estate. Before we reached the main entrance, a dark blue Bentley roared past us and came to a stop directly in front of the mansion.

Ryan’s grip tightened around the steering wheel. His expression darkened instantly.

“Uncle Damian,” he muttered.

Damian Kingsley was known throughout the family for his brilliance, formidable business instincts, and ruthless approach to everything he did.

Ryan parked behind the Bentley. As I stepped out, the heel of my shoe caught in the gravel driveway. I lost my balance and stumbled backward.

Before I could hit the ground, a pair of powerful hands caught me by the waist, steadying me against a solid chest.

I looked up.

A pair of striking blue eyes met mine, clear and captivating as the ocean.

The man towering over me was tall, perhaps around thirty, with sharply defined features, a straight nose, and a firm jaw. His tailored dark blue suit accentuated his broad shoulders and lean frame.

He was Damian Kingsley.

“I’ve got you. Be careful,” he said. His voice was deep and magnetic.

For a moment, I found myself caught in his gaze.

Then, Ryan appeared beside us. His expression had turned dark. He seized my hand and pulled me away from Damian.

“Thank you, Uncle Damian,” he said, his voice strained with barely concealed irritation.

We hurried toward the mansion. Once we were far enough away, Ryan leaned closer and whispered through clenched teeth.

“You know I don’t enjoy seeing you get too close to other men. That includes my uncle.”

I nearly laughed.

He dared to act possessive over a harmless encounter with his own uncle, even though he’d spent the previous night with another woman.

I said nothing and continued walking.

The Kingsley mansion was every bit as impressive as I remembered. Its grand foyer featured polished marble floors and an enormous crystal chandelier that glittered overhead.

Yet the opulence did nothing to lift my spirits. I had no desire to be here, surrounded by people who believed that Ryan and I were the perfect couple.

When Ryan’s grandparents spotted us, his grandma waved enthusiastically.

“Hello, Grandpa. Hello, Grandma,” I greeted them with a polite smile.

“Come, let’s sit over there,” Ellen, Ryan’s grandmother, said, gesturing toward the sofas arranged on the back terrace.

Once we were seated, she turned toward Damian. “Damian, come join us!”

Ryan and I settled on Ellen’s right while Damian took the seat on her left.

Ellen looked at her son with a fond but disapproving expression.

“Every year, you show up here alone. You’re thirty years old and still single! Look at Ryan. His wife is absolutely beautiful. If you don’t bring a girlfriend to the next family gathering, don’t bother coming at all!”

Damian’s gaze shifted briefly to Ryan before settling on me.

A faint, knowing smile curved his lips.

“Yes,” he said, his eyes lingering on mine. “Beautiful. Very beautiful.”