Chapter 5

Lydia’s POV

I scrambled out of the tangled silk sheets, my limbs heavy and aching as I snatched my ruined crimson nightgown off the floor.

The cold morning light bled through the glass windows, exposing the dark bruises blooming across my skin.

"Where do you think you're going?" Zane’s deep baritone cut through the quiet, a dangerous vibration that instantly made me freeze.

Before I could snap my bra closed, a massive, tattooed hand clamped onto my wrist. Cassian dragged me backward against his bare, solid chest, his grip a steel vice.

Kian materialized from the shadows of the bathroom, blocking the door, his eyes dark and unyielding.

"I'm going home," I choked out, wrenching my wrist free, though my hands shook violently as I pulled the velvet dress over my head.

“This was a mistake. I never wanted to meet you guys again in my life! You tore me apart years ago, and I won't let you do it again!"

"You're already ours, Lydia," Kian murmured, stepping closer, his fingers grazing my jaw. "Running back to that pathetic excuse of a husband won't change what happened last night."

"Let me the fuck go!" I cried out, shoving past him, tears blurring my vision as I bolted out of the fortress and tore down the driveway in Julian’s sports car.

The garage door hadn't even finished rolling down before the house door slammed open. Julian stood there, his face contorted in absolute rage, his designer suit wrinkled from his own night of debauchery.

"Where the fuck were you?" he roared, storming down the steps toward the car. "You vanish for an entire night after throwing a tantrum? Who the hell do you think you are?"

I slammed the car door shut, marching right past him. "Do you actually fucking care, Julian? Does it look like you give a damn about where I sleep?"

"I care about my goddamn car!" he snapped, aggressively grabbing my shoulder and spinning me around.

“You took a limited-edition vehicle into a storm! If there is a single scratch on this paint, Lydia, I swear to God you will pay for it. You are lucky the investors signed the contract, or I would have thrown you out on the street hours ago!"

I ripped my shoulder out of his grip, staring at him with pure ice in my veins. "Is that all? The car? You're a pathetic excuse for a man."

I didn't wait for his reply. I turned on my heel and walked straight down the long corridor toward the nursery, desperately seeking a shred of peace in this living hell.

I pushed the door open. Leo was sitting on the plush rug, playing quietly with his wooden blocks. The moment his small eyes met mine, a bright, innocent smile lit up his face.

"Mama!" he chirped, holding up a blue block.

I dropped to my knees, pulling his small, fragile body into my arms and burying my face in his soft hair.

The tears I had held back finally spilled over. Julian had never shown this baby a single shred of love since the day he was born.

He ignored him, looked past him, and treated him like an unwanted tax write-off. But I had loved Leo from the second I felt his heartbeat, and I would protect him with my life.

Maybe I should just give Julian one more chance, I thought bitterly, rocking my son back and forth. Where else would I go?

If I leave him, my father’s shipping connections instantly collapse. My family will be ruined. I’ve already endured four years of this sacrifice. What is the rest of my life if it keeps my son safe? I can just continue. I can survive this.

By evening, the house was dead silent again. The heavy storm outside rattled the windows, matching the hollow ache in my chest.

I stood in the kitchen, silently plating a perfect dish of seared salmon and garlic mashed potatoes. For four years, I had done this. Most nights, I sat entirely alone at the massive mahogany dining table, staring at an empty chair, eating my dinner in the dark while he was out spending his money on cheap thrills.

I set the two plates down, smoothing out my apron, trying to force a compliant smile onto my face. I had to be the perfect placeholder. For Leo. For my family.

The heavy thud of the front door echoing through the foyer signaled his arrival. My heart tightened, but I forced myself to stand tall at the edge of the dining room.

"Julian, dinner is ready," I called out, my voice smooth and controlled.

The heavy footsteps approached the dining room, but they weren't alone. The soft, rhythmic click of expensive, elegant stilettos tapped against the hardwood right beside his shoes.

Julian stepped into the dining room light, but he didn't even look at the table. He stood aside, holding the door open with a level of respect and chivalry he had never once shown me in our entire marriage.

A woman stepped into the room.

The breath instantly died in my throat. She was breathtakingly beautiful, wearing a perfectly tailored, minimalist cream trench coat.

Her dark hair was styled into a flawless, sophisticated bob, and she carried a high-end designer bag. She didn't look like the cheap, trashy whores Julian usually brought around.

She looked deeply polished, highly educated, and radiated an intimidating, old-money class that instantly made the air in the room feel heavy.

She stopped, her cold, calculating eyes scanning the dining table, then dropping to my apron, before finally locking onto my face with a faint, mocking smile.

Julian cleared his throat, his voice completely devoid of shame as he wrapped a possessive hand around her waist.

"Lydia," Julian smiled, his eyes flashing with a ruthless satisfaction. "Pack your things from the master bedroom. She's moving in."