Chapter 2

Scarlett

  The city lights blurred past the taxi window as I sat uncomfortably and silently in the back seat, my hands folded tightly over my stomach.

  I had lost everything. Totally everything. Adrian divorced me few days ago, he took everything which belongs to me, he took the designers clothes and bags he bought for me, he took my lambo and handed it over to that witch, Avery. 

  Now, I was left with nothing.

  Well, maybe not, I am left with my unborn child. My world.

  I am pregnant. 

  Just previously, I was Adrian's loved wife. Now, I was nothing. I'm divorced, humiliated, forced to flee my home, alone and carrying his child.

  My chest tightened as the memory of the ballroom replayed in my mind. 

  I couldn't forget the scene, the way Adrian turned my expectations into a fucking nightmare. The look on Avery's face, the way he had wrapped his hand around her waist and kissed her. I couldn't forget the way he embarrassed and let me down.

  The way Adrian’s voice had sounded so calm while he destroyed me.

  The way everyone had looked at me like I was some cheap woman caught in a scandal.

  The way he hadn’t even listened to my explanation. There was really nothing to explain because I didn't cheat on him, I wouldn't stoop so low.

  I closed my eyes tightly, fighting back fresh tears.

  The doctor’s words from the clinic floated back to me.

  "You’re about six weeks pregnant."

  Six weeks.

  That meant the baby had been conceived during the last time Adrian and I had been truly happy.

  Before everything fell apart.

  My fingers curled slightly over my stomach. A strange mixture of fear and protectiveness filled my heart.

  No matter what happened, I wasn’t alone anymore.

  "Miss, we’re here," the taxi driver said.

  His voice pulled me back to reality.

  I looked up and realized the car had stopped in front of the apartment building Adrian had bought for me after we got married.

  The place that had once been our home. A hollow feeling settled in my chest.

  "Thank you," I murmured as I handed the driver the fare.

  The night air felt cold against my skin as I stepped out of the taxi.

  For a moment, I simply stood there staring at the tall building. Three years of memories lived inside those large walls.

  Our first dinner together after the wedding. The nights we had stayed up eating junks and watching movies. The mornings Adrian had quietly kissed my forehead before leaving for work.

  Had any of it meant nothing to him?

  Or had he always doubted me?

  I swallowed the painful thoughts and walked inside. The lobby was quiet. Most of the staff avoided looking directly at me. They had probably already heard the rumors spreading across the city.

  News traveled fast when it involved Adrian Mattson and everything that got to do with him.

  Even if it were good or bad, the media doesn't care, they'd leak everything, true or not.

  I reached the elevator and pressed the button. The ride to the top floor felt endless and when the doors finally opened, I stepped into the hallway and walked slowly toward the penthouse.

  My heart pounded with every step I took. This place didn’t belong to me anymore, but I needed to gather a few things before leaving. My hand trembled slightly as I touched the doorknob.

  The apartment was dark and silent. I stepped inside and flipped on the lights. Everything looked exactly the same as it had that morning. Sitting pretty at the right hand side of the room was the white sofa Adrian liked.

  Then the glass dining table we had chosen together. The framed photos on the wall from happier days.

  A lump formed in my throat. I forced myself to look away and walked toward the bedroom. I didn’t need much, just a suitcase with some clothes and my personal documents.

  Nothing else mattered anymore. The sophisticated lifestyle I enjoyed being married to Adrian didn't matter again.

  I had just opened the closet when the sound of heels clicking on the marble floor echoed from the living room.

  My body froze, a cold dread creeping up my spine like an icy finger, as the eerie certainty slammed into me, someone was here.

  I inched back into the hallway, my heart thumping like a jackhammer, and then she materialized, my morning nightmare, her eyes hollow, skin deathly pale, and her presence sucking the air out of the room.

  Dorothy Mattson sauntered into the living room like she was the queen of the manor, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor with an air of ownership, after all, she'd bought the place out from under them, or so the papers said.

  Adrian’s stepmother was dressed elegantly in a dark red dress, her perfectly styled hair falling over her shoulders. Her sharp eyes landed on me.

  A small, satisfied smile played on her full red lips, a triumphant glace that said she'd just hit the jackpot, like she'd won a billion, cashed in her chips, and was now sipping champagne on a private island.

  "Well, well, well." she said smoothly. "You’re still here."

  My stomach twisted.

  "What are you doing here?" I asked quietly.

  Dorothy walked slowly toward me, her heels clicking with each step.

  "You didn’t think I would miss tonight’s entertainment, did you?"

  Her tone was dripping with mockery and angst.

  I clenched my fists.

  "You set this up," I said suddenly.

  The truth exploded in my mind like a puzzle locking into place, the photos, accusation, and timing formed a devastating picture that left me reeling.

  Dorothy raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow.

  "What an interesting accusation."

  "Those pictures," I continued, my voice shaking. "You arranged them. They weren't me. You blackmailed me."

  Her grin spread, slow and sly.

  "Let’s just say.... I helped Adrian see the fucking truth."