CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 2

Amber Desiree’s POV

That night, I let him do whatever he wanted.

The way his hand found mine.

The way he kissed me—soft at first, then desperate and hungry.

I didn’t stop him because it felt good.

It felt good to finally be wanted… to finally be touched by the man my heart had always longed for. By my husband.

I still remember how he held my hips, how gentle yet firm his touch was, how my name slipped past his lips in a whisper that sent shivers through me. The way his green eyes locked with mine as he claimed me again and again.

I remember it all. Every moment. Every breath.

It was real. It happened.

And when I woke up the next morning with him lying naked beside me, my sore body, my swollen lips, and the faint bite marks scattered across my skin were proof of that night.

I know it was stupid. Lorenzo was drunk. I honestly never meant for things to go that far, but once they did, I couldn’t stop it anymore.

And truthfully… I didn’t regret it.

I didn’t regret giving myself to him, even if it happened that way.

But the moment he came down for breakfast that morning, I knew—he didn’t remember a thing.

He sat across from me at the dining table as if nothing happened. He was dressed sharply in his suit, his silver watch gleaming, his hair neatly slicked back. There was no trace of the man from last night—only Lorenzo Gabriel Devlin, the cold, emotionally distant husband I married for duty.

He didn’t even glance at me. He just picked up his utensils and started eating. The soft clinking of his spoon against the porcelain was the only sound in the room.

I stared at him, unsure if I should say something. My fingers fidgeted under the table, gripping the fabric of my robe. Still, I found myself speaking anyway.

“Good morning,” I said softly.

No response.

My fingers curled tighter. “Did you sleep well last night?”

His eyes flicked up to me for a brief second before returning to his plate. “Fine.”

I swallowed hard. My gaze drifted to his hand resting on the table—the same hand that had touched me tenderly just hours before.

And before I could stop myself, I asked the question that had been burning in my chest.

“Do you… remember anything from last night?”

The silence that followed stretched painfully long. He stirred his coffee slowly, deliberately, before finally meeting my gaze. His green eyes were cold and unreadable.

“Nothing worth remembering.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut.

I didn’t realize I’d stopped breathing until my chest began to ache.

His tone was detached, his expression emotionless—as if what had happened between us was not just insignificant… but something to be forgotten.

He stood up and adjusted his cufflinks.

“I’ll be home late.”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving me alone at the dining table, my heart twisting painfully inside my chest.

I was such a fool.

For a brief moment, I thought things between us might finally change.

But I was wrong.

So I forced myself to bury that memory, to forget it ever happened, and to keep playing the role of the obedient wife.

Until two weeks later, when I realized I’d missed my period. And when I took the test… it was positive.

That’s how I ended up in this moment.

I sighed.

“Ma’am, we’re here.”

The driver’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. I blinked and looked out the window, realizing we were already parked in front of the house Lorenzo and I shared.

I grabbed my wallet from my sling bag, handed him the fare, and thanked him before stepping out. The car drove away, and I stood for a moment, staring at our home.

I walked toward the tall iron gate and knocked on the smaller side door. Mang Tino, our guard, immediately opened it.

“Thank you, Mang Tino,” I said with a small smile.

“No problem, ma’am.”

I turned toward the house and immediately noticed Lorenzo’s car parked out front. I frowned.

He’s home early? That’s… rare.

“Ah, ma’am,” Mang Tino added in a low tone. “Sir came home early today. But he looks like he’s in a bad mood.”

I blinked at that.

Of course, he’s in a bad mood. When is he not? He always seemed irritated at the world, as if anger was part of his DNA.

I sighed and continued walking toward the front door.

The moment I stepped inside, I immediately saw him sitting on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, looking impatient. He was still in his suit, probably just got home from work.

I removed my shoes and slipped into my house slippers before walking toward him. He looked up the moment I did.

“You’re home ear—”

“Where have you been?”

I froze. His deep, cold voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding. His green eyes locked with mine, as if trying to read right through me.

I looked away, walking past him toward the grand staircase instead.

“Does it matter?” I muttered.

From the corner of my eye, I saw his forehead crease.

“I’m not joking, Amber,” he said, his tone low but firm. “I called your brother to ask if you went there, but he said you didn’t. You don’t have work today, so where exactly did you go?”

I stopped mid-step and turned to look at him, slightly surprised.

He’s… not acting like himself. Since when did he care where I went? Don’t tell me—

“Don’t be delusional,” he said flatly, as if reading my mind. “I’m not worried or anything. I just don’t want to get blamed if something bad happens to you.”

His words stung more than I wanted to admit.

“I was with your sister. We just hung out,” I said quietly, before turning away and heading up the stairs. I didn’t even bother to look back. I was too tired for this.

I was halfway up when his voice stopped me again.

“You should’ve informed me. What’s the point of having a phone if you’re not using it?”

I turned to him, raising an eyebrow.

Right. I usually text him whenever I leave the house, but I didn’t today.

“I forgot,” I said. “I’ll inform you next time. Are we good now? I’m tired.”

His jaw tightened. I could see the muscle twitching as he stared at me with that cold glare of his.

And honestly, I didn’t even understand what he was so angry about. He barely ever replied to my messages anyway, sometimes just a reaction, sometimes nothing at all. And now, the one time I didn’t text him, he’s mad?

I waited for him to say anything but even after a full minute, he still remained silent, so I turned away and continued walking upstairs.