Chapter 4

Elena's POV

I waited until the sound of footsteps disappeared down the corridor before picking up my phone.

The screen barely lit up before the other end answered — as if he'd been waiting by the phone.

I explained that I needed to stay until after the patriarch's birthday. The voice on the other end was tight with worry and frustration.

It wasn't until I promised — repeatedly — that I would leave with him, that the man on the line finally calmed down.

After I hung up, I leaned back against the headboard. When I'd first reached out to him behind Jason's back, I'd felt a strange, misplaced guilt.

But now — now that the other woman had moved in and was literally drinking my blood — that guilt evaporated in an instant.

Two days later, my body had recovered enough to function.

The estate buzzed with preparations for the patriarch's celebration, and every tedious detail was dumped on me.

I spent nearly every day on the phone. Some calls were about the event. Others were to soothe the man who grew more restless with each passing day.

Meanwhile, Jason and Vicky went out every night and didn't return until the small hours, always making a point of waking me with their affection on full display. I couldn't have cared less.

I was busier than ever. Sometimes I'd be typing replies on my phone even while Jason was in the room.

When I finally looked up, I found him staring at me. I had no idea how long he'd been watching.

That heavy, searching gaze made my skin crawl.

I was about to leave when Vicky materialized behind him, wrapping herself around his arm.

"Jason."

Her voice was syrupy, her chest pressed deliberately against him.

"You haven't spent any time with me today."

She'd clearly bounced back — spirits high, belly rounded, preening like a pampered cat.

Jason didn't push her away. He just looked at me, his tone flat. "You've been busy lately."

I nodded. "The celebration takes a lot of preparation."

Vicky's smile widened. "Funny — I've noticed Elena's been getting a lot of calls and texts."

She tilted her head, her pupils tinged red, her gaze a provocation. "Jason, don't you think that's odd?"

Jason was silent for a moment. Then: "Give me your phone."

The air went still.

I looked at him — at Vicky practically fused to his side — and slowly smiled.

"Jason, are you seriously accusing me of cheating?"

Every servant in the corridor froze.

I held his gaze, my voice unhurried.

"You got another woman pregnant, and now you want to check my phone?"

"What — afraid I might find someone too? That I might bring a man home, just like you did?"

Vicky's face twisted. "Shut up!"

Her hand flew toward my face.

I saw it coming. I simply reached up and caught her wrist in midair.

The corridor went dead silent.

Vicky stared, clearly not expecting me to fight back.

Jason's expression darkened. He pulled Vicky to his side and turned to me.

"Let go."

I released her.

Vicky retreated into Jason's arms, eyes brimming red.

"Jason, she just—"

"Enough."

His voice was frigid.

He wasn't looking at her. His eyes were locked on me.

"When she tried to hit you just now — why didn't you look at me?"

I blinked.

Jason went on: "You used to run to me the second something happened."

His voice dropped low, as if he was barely holding something back. "Why didn't you ask me for help?"

I looked at him and asked, quietly: "Would it have made a difference?"

Jason's expression shattered.