Chapter 3

The moment I hung up, my fingertips went numb.

There were only seven days left until my death.

If my fate was already sealed, then there were things I needed to do.

One of them was making sure Natalie was as far away from Zane as possible.

I was the only daughter of the Weber family.

Once I took Natalie home, she'd be the apple of their eye. No one would ever lay a finger on her.

I was still staring blankly at my phone when the door suddenly flew open. Mom rushed in.

"Simone, why do you suddenly want to come home?"

Dad followed close behind. His face was grim as he scanned the room. "Did someone upset you? Tell me. I'll handle it."

The nurse who was standing beside me widened her eyes in shock.

Everyone else lowered their heads as they were too afraid to say a word.

"This has nothing to do with anyone else. I just felt like going home," I said, forcing a smile.

He studied me for a moment. "Did that punk Zane do something again?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but before I could, hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway.

Zane burst through the door without even bothering to put on his suit jacket. His eyes were bloodshot as he reached for my arm.

"Simone, tell me what's going on."

He kept his voice low, but his whole body trembled. "It's fine if you don't want the celebration. But why would you bring up divorce?"

Mom and Dad froze.

Mom's face drained of color. "What are you talking about?"

Zane kept his eyes locked on mine. He swallowed hard before stammering, "Why would you do that, Simone? Is it because I've been too busy lately? Or was it because of the celebration? Just tell me. I'll fix it."

I stared at the man I had spent the last three years loving. This was the face I saw every night before falling asleep. Now, it was filled with panic and confusion.

He acted like he had no idea what was happening, but he was the reason all of this was happening.

The anger burning inside of me grew stronger.

"Zane," I said sharply, "did you ever stop to think about Natalie when you bought Wanda that apartment?"

Zane went stiff.

His eyes widened, and his grip on my arm loosened.

That expression lasted for a split second, but I caught it clear as day.

Any hope I had left was shattered.

"You funneled millions to her through your personal account every year, hand-picked her for a position in the executive office, and even bought her a 4.6-million-dollar apartment."

I met his gaze. "Last March, I was so sick from my pregnancy that I couldn't stop throwing up. You told me you were busy with a project. Was buying another woman a house the project?"

"Simone, let me explain—"

"There's nothing to explain."

I cut him off. My voice was so calm that it barely sounded like mine. "I've already instructed Yvonne to draft the divorce papers. I don't want a cent of your money. All I want is Natalie."

Zane turned as white as a sheet. His hands trembled as he took a step toward me. "Simone, please listen. Wanda and I are just—"

"Just what?"

Dad strode forward, grabbed Zane by the collar, and shoved him away from me. "You'd better tell me who Wanda is."

Mom's knees nearly gave out, but she caught herself on the bed. Tears started streaming down her face. She pointed at Zane.

"I didn't say a thing when you showed up four hours late while Simone was giving birth. Yet now, when she's at her most vulnerable while recovering from childbirth, you've gone and found yourself another woman? I was completely wrong about you."

"That's not what happened—"

Mom refused to let him finish.

Desperate, Zane turned back to me. "Simone, please. I can explain everything. Natalie isn't even a month old. Don't leave."

I held Natalie close and took a step back to meet his gaze. "Explain what? That you wanted to be a good father?"

Zane went completely still. He looked as if he had just been slapped.

Dad shot him a glare before turning to me.

"Simone, let's go. It's time to head home."