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Chapter Twelve: Lena's Lies
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2025-05-26 13:00:09“You’ve really grown wings, haven’t you, Sarah?” Lena sneered, stepping closer with a dangerous edge in her voice. “Flapping around like you own the place.”
Sarah smiled, unflinching. "I've always had wings, Lena. Maybe you're just finally looking up."Lena's expression darkened, her voice turning venomous. “You think Andrew cares about you?”Sarah tilted her head, playfulness creeping in. “Who said I needed him to care?”Caught off guard, Lena blinked.“I’m not after Andrew’s heart,” Sarah said, her tone sharp, unwavering. “And I’m not obsessed with a title. But don’t push me, Lena.” She leaned in, their faces inches apart. “If you make me fight for either… I won’t lose.”Lena’s jaw clenched. “You think Andrew is some prize to win over with fluttering lashes and fake smiles?”Sarah's smile remained. “You sound scared.”“This marriage—” Lena hissed, “is just a punishment.”“Is it?” Sarah’s brows raised
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After their tense argument, Andrew had no choice but to accept Sarah’s decision to attend the ball. He hadn’t liked it—not one bit—but she'd stood her ground, and for once, he hadn't pushed back.Now, hours later, Sarah lay sprawled on her bed, one arm flung over her eyes. The tension still buzzed in her veins like leftover static. Across the room, Mia was on a full-on fashion rampage, pulling dresses out of the wardrobe like she was gearing up for war.“You’ve got a caring husband, you know,” Mia said suddenly, holding up a red satin gown to the light.Sarah groaned softly, her voice muffled by the pillow. “Not this again.”“I’m serious,” Mia said, twirling the dress before tossing it onto the bed. “You’re too deep in denial to see what’s right in front of you.”Sarah peeked out from under her arm. “Mia, I’ve told you—you’re getting ahead of yourself.”“No, you’re just refusing to face the truth,” Mia countered, planting her hands on her hips. “Can’t you see the way Andrew looks at y
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Sarah let out a small, tired smile. The kind you give to end a conversation, not start one.“It’s fine, Lena,” she said, voice even but distant. “No one’s blaming you for what happened. I’m sure you didn’t know things would go that way.”Her tone was gentle, but her eyes told a different story—wary, skeptical, done playing nice.Lena’s lips curled into a faint smile, laced with something less than innocence. “You might not be blaming me, Sarah… but Andrew definitely is.”She turned her eyes to him, all faux fragility and feminine anguish.“He thinks it was all my fault. That you were accused because I dragged you out to the mall in the first place. And maybe he’s right.” She paused, lowering her gaze. “If I hadn’t invited you, none of it would’ve happened.”Sarah folded her arms loosely. She could see the performance unfolding in front of her like a soap opera rerun. The gentle self-blame. The poor-me card. It was a script Lena had mastered.“And if Andrew blames me,” Lena added, voic
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Andrew stared at the glowing screen for a moment longer, jaw clenched, before pressing the red button to end the call. His mother’s name vanished, but the tension lingered like smoke.“I’m heading to the office,” he muttered, sliding the phone back into his coat pocket.Sarah nodded silently, still shaken from the bombshell they’d just navigated. Her palm rested over her stomach protectively. Her thoughts were racing, but she didn’t speak—there was nothing left to say after that.But then came the sharp sound of heels against marble.Click. Click. Click.The sound sliced through the quiet like a blade. Sarah turned, her stomach twisting instinctively as Lena entered the room, her designer coat draped perfectly over one shoulder, lips painted with that trademark too-sweet smile that never quite reached her eyes.“Hello, Andrew. Hi, Sarah,” Lena cooed, her voice syrupy, almost mocking.“Hello, Lena,” Sarah said stiffly, forcing a tight smile.Mia didn’t even bother with the pleasantries
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ANDREW’S MANSIONThe black luxury car rolled up the stone driveway, its engine humming low like a warning. As it slowed to a stop before the grand entrance of Andrew’s mansion, a swarm of security guards appeared almost instantly, their movements sharp and practiced.“Welcome back, Boss.”“Welcome, Mrs. Luthor. Welcome, Miss.”The guards bowed their heads respectfully, the chill evening air catching in their pressed uniforms. Andrew didn’t respond. He simply stepped out of the car, jaw locked and eyes cold, brushing past them like they were invisible.Sarah climbed out after him, her heart pounding against her ribs. Her hand instinctively moved to her stomach. Mia followed silently, her face unreadable, the shadows under her eyes betraying the weight she was carrying.Sarah managed a nod in return to the greetings, but her attention was already on Andrew’s retreating back. He was walking fast—too fast. Like a man trying to outrun something.Without a word, they followed him into the m
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Sarah exhaled sharply, a breath caught somewhere between relief and dread, before she rose from the chair. The sterile office felt suffocating, its walls closing in with the weight of unspoken fears. Without a word, she stepped away, her footsteps measured but heavy, the door clicking shut behind her.Andrew’s eyes remained locked on the doctor, cold and calculating, but beneath that façade, something flickered—an unspoken storm. “You can start speaking now,” Andrew said, voice clipped but commanding.Mia leaned forward, her gaze sharp and expectant. She had been quiet, absorbing every detail like a shield against the mounting tension. Now, all eyes were on the doctor.The doctor shifted in his seat, clearing his throat before speaking. “Mr. Andrew, I must be frank—the baby isn’t in good condition.”The words hit the room like a grenade. Andrew’s brow furrowed, his jaw tightening. “What do you mean?”“The situation is delicate,” the doctor explained, choosing his words with clinical p
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"Alright," Sarah murmured, brushing damp strands of hair from her face. Her voice was low, almost reluctant, but there was no room for debate. She knew it—there was no use arguing with Andrew when his mind was made up.“I’ll go get ready,” she added, not bothering to wait for a reply as she stepped past Mia and walked out of the bathroom.Mia trailed behind, glancing back briefly at Andrew, who hadn’t moved from his spot. He stood there, arms folded, eyes locked on Sarah’s retreating figure as she climbed the staircase slowly, one hand gripping the banister. The silent tension wrapped around him like a coiled spring. Something about the way she walked—tense, guarded, hesitant—bothered him more than he cared to admit.He walked out of the bathroom. His phone buzzed sharply in his pocket, jerking him back to the present. He fished it out with one hand, eyes still on the stairs.Secretary.He picked up with a grunt. “What?”“Good morning, sir,” she chirped, polite and poised. “Your meet
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