My Kickass Wife Never Suffers A Loss

{BREAKING NEWS}

"LUCIEN DELACROIX PERSONALLY WELCOMES EX-GIRLFRIEND GWEN LEIGH BACK TO VERDANTIA!"

The first thing Nova saw when she unlocked her phone was her husband standing intimately beside another woman.

For several agonizing seconds, she simply stared at the screen.

The video was taken at the airport terminal.

Lucien Delacroix stood beneath the glaring floodlights, dressed in a sharp, tailored dark suit, one hand casually tucked into his pocket.

Beside him stood a beautiful woman in a delicate beige dress. Her hand rested protectively over a visibly swollen, pregnant belly.

Nova’s fingers slowly tightened around her phone until her knuckles turned white.

The news reporter's voice blared through the speaker, dripping with excitement:

"Big news out of the airport today! Delacroix Group CEO and Chairman, Lucien Delacroix, was spotted just this morning welcoming his renowned designer ex-girlfriend, Gwen Leigh, fresh off her flight from London. The two looked closer than ever!"

The footage cut to a swarm of paparazzi surrounding them, flashing cameras blinding the screen.

"Miss Leigh, are you and Mr. Delacroix getting back together?"

"Are you returning to Verdantia permanently to raise the child?"

"Is it true you're getting married?"

Neither of them responded.

Suddenly, a bold reporter stepped directly in front of them, thrusting a microphone forward.

"Mr. Delacroix, is it true that you are the baby's father?"

Nova’s breath caught. Her eyes locked entirely onto his face.

For some reason, despite everything, she found herself waiting for his denial.

But Lucien remained expressionless.

Beside him, Gwen lowered her head shyly, a soft, modest smile playing on her lips as her hand caressed her stomach.

The reporter pressed again. Lucien finally opened his mouth, his voice dropping into a cold tone:

"No comment."

No comment.

Nova stared at those two words on the screen.

He didn't deny it.

She slowly lowered her eyes, a bitter numbness washing over her. She tried to tell herself it meant nothing, but her chest felt strangely tight.

The footage changed again, showing the two walking toward a private VIP exit. Gwen was openly holding Lucien’s arm, leaning heavily against his broad shoulder for support.

The reporter's voice followed them:

"Although neither party has confirmed the rumors, sources close to the Delacroix family suggest that Gwen Leigh and Lucien Delacroix are rapidly rekindling their old romance. Is Gwen Leigh about to become Mrs. Delacroix?"

Nova turned the screen off.

Exactly one hour ago, Lucien had called her.

His voice had been as calm, deep, and detached as usual.

"Something important came up. I won't make it tonight."

He hadn't explained what the important matter was. And she, acting the part of the perfect, obedient wife, hadn't asked.

After all, they had been married for three years. She knew him well enough to know he never felt the need to explain himself to her.

But tonight was different.

Tonight was their third wedding anniversary.

They had never celebrated their anniversaries before, but this year, Nova had foolishly wanted to try.

She had spent the entire afternoon preparing. She had personally reserved the most exclusive private dining room in the city and arranged for the chef to prepare the exact dishes he liked most.

But he had canceled because "something came up."

Apparently, that "something" was welcoming his pregnant ex-girlfriend back into the country.

Nova looked down at the table.

The exquisite food in front of her had already gone completely cold. The romantic candles had burned halfway down, dripping wax onto the pristine tablecloth.

She had been sitting here like an idiot, waiting for a man who was currently playing the protective hero at the airport.

A waiter approached the table with caution, lowering his head. "Madam... would you like us to serve the next course?"

Nova looked at the empty chair opposite her.

Then, she forced a small, flawless smile. "No."

She glanced at the untouched luxury dishes. "Please pack everything."

The waiter blinked in surprise. "Everything, Madam?"

"Yes," Nova’s smile remained gentle, but her eyes were entirely devoid of warmth. "I’ll take it home."

***

The lights of the grand Wyatt Estate were still on when a limited-edition Rolls-Royce Ghost finally rolled down the driveway.

Lucien stepped out of the back seat, his handsome face carrying a trace of exhaustion.

The day had been far more demanding than expected.

After leaving the airport, he had spent several hours dealing with emergency board meetings. By the time he finished, it was already late into the night.

The moment he strode into the grand foyer, the housekeeper, Madame Greene, greeted him anxiously.

"Master, you're back."

Lucien nodded, loosening his tie with a careless flick of his wrist. "Where is Nova?"

Madame Greene hesitated, looking briefly toward the back of the house. "She’s... she's in the dining room, Sir."

Lucien paused.

Usually, Nova would already be asleep by this hour. He told her not to stay up waiting for him.

He walked down the long, marbled corridor toward the dining room.

The moment he pushed the door open, he saw her. Nova was seated gracefully by the window, holding a delicate cup of tea, staring silently out into the dark gardens.

Lucien’s dark brows creased slightly. "Why haven't you slept yet?"

Nova turned her head. The moment her gaze landed on him, that familiar, gentle smile appeared on her lips.

"You're back."

Lucien stared at her for a moment. There was nothing unusual about her expression. She looked as calm and placid as she had for the past three years.

But somehow... his chest tightened with a strange sense of unease.

His eyes drifted to the dining table. Several takeout boxes from the private diner were laid out. It was obvious she couldn't finish the anniversary dinner alone and had brought the remains home.

Seeing those boxes, an inexplicable irritation surged in his chest. He didn't understand why the sight bothered him so much.

He ripped his tie off completely and walked closer, his voice deep. "About tonight..."

Nova looked up, her calm eyes meeting his gray ones.

Lucien stopped. For some bizarre reason, looking at her quiet face, he felt an unprecedented urge to explain himself.

"It was unexpected," he muttered, his jaw tightening. "I’ll make it up to you later."

Nova looked at him silently. She almost wanted to laugh.

Make it up to me? He had already missed the only deadline that mattered.

But she didn't argue or throw a tantrum. Instead, she asked in a light, conversational tone:

"I saw you on the news channel today. You were at the airport."

Lucien had already walked over to the refrigerator. He was in the middle of twisting the cap off a water bottle when his hand froze.

He turned around, his gaze sharpening as he met her eyes. Her expression was perfectly tranquil. He couldn't detect a single emotion on her face.

He expressionlessly tightened the cap and nodded. "Yeah. Something happened with Gwen."

The moment that name left his lips, Nova’s fingers tightened around her teacup until her skin went pale. Lucien didn't notice it at all.

"Gwen Leigh?" Nova asked softly.

Lucien looked at her. "You know her?"

"Everyone knows her," Nova’s voice was smooth. "The famous designer who has been abroad for years."

"She just returned," Lucien stated flatly.

"I saw." A tense, oppressive quiet fell over the room.

Then, Nova looked directly into his eyes. "The reporters asked if you were getting back together."

Lucien glanced at her, his expression unbothered. "It's just media speculation."

"You didn't deny it."

If Lucien had been even a bit more perceptive, he would have heard the razor-sharp edge of accusation hidden beneath her gentle tone.

But he simply dismissed it. "It’ll die down soon enough."

Nova fell completely silent at his calmness. Slowly, she nodded. "I suppose."

Ring! Ring!

Before she could say another word, the sharp vibration of a phone shattered the silence. Lucien pulled it from his pocket and glanced at the caller ID.

His expression shifted instantly. He answered it without hesitation.

"Gwen?"

Nova’s fingers stopped moving entirely. She didn't want to eavesdrop, but in the dead silence of the dining hall, every single word from the receiver was crystal clear.

Lucien’s brows furrowed deeply, his voice laced with sudden, intense gravity. "Is it very bad? Are you bleeding? Do you need to go to the hospital right now?"

Nova couldn't hear Gwen's frantic replies, but she watched her husband's face morph into pure concern. He glanced sharply at his luxury watch.

"Can't it wait until tomorrow morning?" Lucien asked.

A second later, whatever Gwen said on the other end completely shattered his hesitation.

Lucien nodded firmly. "Okay. I’ll be there in twenty minutes."

Nova froze.

He’s leaving again. In the middle of the night. On their anniversary.

Lucien hung up the phone, slipped it into his pocket, and grabbed his water bottle, turning on his heel toward the door without a backward glance.

Nova’s fingers curled into tight fists. For the first time in three years, an unfamiliar, commanding energy surged through her veins.

She stood up abruptly.

"Lucien."

The sheer weight in her tone made Lucien’s steps halt instantly. He paused, turning his head back in surprise.

Nova met his gaze, her voice dropping all pretense of sweetness. "We are not done talking."

Lucien frowned, his tone hardening into his typical cold baritone. "Gwen needs help."

The words were so simple, yet they felt like a physical strike.

Nova stood there, a sudden clarity washing over her.

Earlier today, a reporter asked if the baby was his, and he remained silent. Now, in the dead of night, a single phone call from Gwen had the all-powerful CEO rushing out the door like a loyal dog.

Everything from the past few months suddenly made perfect sense. His sudden trips abroad, the private calls, the late nights at work…

She had trusted him. She had believed that their marriage, even if born from a cold agreement, deserved mutual respect.

But perhaps, she was the only one playing house.

Gwen was back, heavily pregnant with his child. And she was standing here like a pathetic background character while they renewed their romance.

The thought was laughable.

Nova raised her chin, her gentle expression instantly shifting into something cold and unreadable.

"Lucien."

He stopped at the threshold.

Nova locked her eyes onto his gray ones, delivering a line that shattered the silence:

"Let's get a divorce."

For the first time in his life, the unshakeable Lucien Delacroix completely lost his composure.