01 The Best Day, The Worst Night

Elena’s POV

The pregnancy test had been trembling in my hands when the phone rang. I didn’t even need to answer to know who it was.

“Elena?” Elijah’s voice burst through the line, vibrant and excited, the way only my little brother could sound. “Congratulations, sis, you’re pregnant. Just over a month!”

My lips parted, and suddenly the whole world tilted. Pregnant. I pressed a hand over my flat stomach as though I could already feel the life stirring inside me. My chest filled with a joy so fierce it burned.

On the very day of our third wedding anniversary.

A sign. It had to be.

“Are you sure?” My voice trembled.

“As sure as science can be,” Elijah laughed softly. “Don’t you dare stress. You’re carrying the heir to the Rothschilds, Elena. Be careful, alright?”

The heir. My child. Damien’s child.

My heart fluttered in disbelief. After three years of quietly loving him, of being patient with his indifference, of clutching onto every sliver of kindness he spared me, I finally carried a piece of him that would never leave me.

“Thank you, Elijah.” My voice cracked, thick with emotion. “This is the best day of my life.”

The call ended, and I sat still for a long moment, staring at the phone as if it might tell me what to do next. But I already knew.

Tonight, I would tell Damien.

I would give him the one thing no one, not even Isabella, could ever take away from me. Our child.

The dining room table was set with more care than ever before. White lilies in the crystal vase he’d bought me on our first anniversary. His favourite dishes arranged on porcelain plates that gleamed beneath the chandelier’s light. I had even put on the pale silk dress he once said suited me, not knowing the offhand remark had meant the world to me.

Hours passed.

Ten o’clock. Eleven. Midnight.

My smile wavered, my hope thinning with each glance at the clock. I told myself he must be busy. That a man running the country’s most powerful empire didn’t measure time the way I did. Yet by one in the morning, fear began to gnaw at my heart.

I was rising to call him again when the door suddenly swung open.

“Damien!” Relief flooded me. “You’re home. I was so worried, ”

My words cut off as he strode inside. His eyes, usually sharp and cool, were like shards of ice tonight. He reeked of scotch and fury.

Before I could touch him, his hand came down against my cheek.

The crack echoed through the silence.

I staggered, clutching my face, disbelief turning the air to stone. He had never laid a hand on me before.

“Damien…” My voice broke. “What, what are you doing?”

His answer was a sheet of paper hurled at my chest.

I caught it with trembling fingers.

Mr. Rothschild,

“Please accept my deepest apologies for the crime I committed…”

The words blurred before me as I read about a hired driver confessing, claiming my late mother and I had orchestrated the accident that killed Damien’s parents, all to secure this marriage. Money transfers, instructions to hit them, threats against Isabella. It read:

“Two years ago, in a desperate attempt to pay for my wife’s medical treatment, I accepted money from your wife, Elena, and her mother, Sophia Carter. Under their instructions, I struck your parents with my car. At the time, blinded by fear and desperation, I obeyed without understanding their true motive, to sever your relationship with Miss Isabella and secure Elena’s position as your wife.

Later, to further drive Miss Isabella away from you, they coerced me into attempting her abduction, threatening to withhold the promised money if I refused. I complied, not out of malice, but because I believed it was the only way to keep my wife alive.

Since then, remorse has consumed me. I enclose the $10,000 I received from Elena, along with the transfer messages as proof. I know these gestures cannot undo the suffering I have caused, but I pray they may serve as a step toward truth and justice.

Please find it in your heart, if not to forgive me, then at least to understand the desperate man I was, and the guilt that has never left me.

With deepest regret.”

My hands shook violently. “This is a lie! Damien, I swear on my mother’s grave, this isn’t true.”

His laughter was bitter. “Enough. Do you think I’m a fool? All these years, you played innocent while hiding this from me. You and that scheming mother of yours trapped me into this sham of a marriage.”

“Damien, please listen, ”

“No!” His voice thundered. “If it weren’t for my parents forcing me, I would have married Isabella. You knew I loved her. You stole that from me.”

The room tilted, nausea clawing at my throat. He was cutting me open with every word, but I forced my voice steady. “I didn’t steal anything. I loved you, Damien. I have loved you since we were children. Isabella only ever wanted your money. You know that.”

“And what about you?” His eyes flashed with contempt. “Wasn’t it money your family chased? My parents gave your mother a job out of charity, but it was never enough, was it? You wanted everything. Admit it.”

Tears spilled hot down my cheeks. “No. I only wanted you.”

“You?” Damien scoffed. “Elena, don’t delude yourself. I never loved you. Not once. The only reason I touched you was to blow off steam. That’s all you ever were to me… a tool.”

My breath caught. A tool. After everything he’d promised, after saying he wanted a child with me?

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

“I’m pregnant.”

For a heartbeat, silence crashed between us. His jaw clenched, his hands tightening into fists.

“Pregnant.” His voice dripped with venom. “Is this part of the plan too? Another trick to keep me chained? Do you really think an unknown baby will change anything?”

The word unknown sliced through me.

“It’s your child, Damien!” My voice cracked, raw with anguish.

He stepped closer, towering, merciless. “No. It’s nothing but proof of your deceit. You disgust me, Elena. Sign the divorce papers now, or Elijah loses his job at my hospital. And if you resist, I’ll make sure the world knows what your mother did.”

My knees weakened. “You wouldn’t, ”

“Try me.” His lips curled. “Sign them. Or watch everything crumble around you.”

The man I loved, the man I had once dreamed would protect me, turned his back without another glance. His footsteps faded into the night, leaving only the echo of my sobs.

The lilies on the table drooped, the candles flickered out.

And the secret inside me pressed faintly against my womb, reminding me of the life I might now have to protect alone.