Chapter Two

Elena’s POV

The night had been endless. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as the hours crawled by, the sting of Damien’s words replaying in my mind like a cruel echo. “I never loved you. Not even for a moment.”

The only warmth I had was the faint flutter of hope inside me, the life that refused to be erased by his hatred.

My phone buzzed. Elijah’s name lit up the screen.

“Hello?” My voice was faint.

“Elena? You sound terrible.” My brother’s tone shifted instantly from cheerful to alarmed. “Come to the hospital. Now. You need to be checked. I don’t like the way you sound.”

I wanted to protest, but exhaustion weighed me down. And truthfully, fear gnawed at me. What if something had already gone wrong with the baby?

An hour later, I sat in the sterile chill of the examination room while Elijah studied the results. His expression was grave when he finally looked up.

“You’re at risk of a miscarriage,” he said quietly. “You need complete rest. Stress isn’t just bad, it’s dangerous for you right now.”

The words pierced me deeper than Damien’s slap. I swallowed hard, my hand instinctively pressing against my stomach. “The baby’s still there?”

“Yes,” Elijah said firmly. “Still there. Still fighting. But you have to protect it.”

Tears blurred my vision. “I don’t want to lose them, Elijah. I can’t.”

“You won’t,” he said, his jaw tightening. “But you need to tell Damien. If he knew you were pregnant, he’d never divorce you. He’d, ”

“He’d what?” My laugh was brittle. “Care? Protect me? Elijah, last night he accused me of orchestrating the very accident that killed his trust. He called this baby a trick. He… he said he never loved me.”

Elijah’s fists clenched. “Why would he say such cruel words without even investigating the truth first?”

I wanted to believe him. I wanted to cling to the idea that once Damien saw the report in my hand, he would break, apologise, hold me, promise me everything would be okay.

So I stepped into the hallway, clutching the report like a lifeline.

And that’s when I saw them.

Damien. And Isabella.

Side by side, too close, their steps matched as if they’d been rehearsing for years. She brushed his arm with casual intimacy, and he didn’t flinch, didn’t even move away. To anyone else, they looked like a couple already. To me, they looked like the graveyard of my marriage.

My breath caught in my throat. My heart crashed against my ribs as if it wanted to escape. “Damien…” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Why are you with her?”

His gaze found mine, cold and unyielding. “That’s none of your business.”

“I’m still your wife,” I said, clinging desperately to the only truth left between us.

“Not anymore.” His reply was a knife. “Our marriage was a mistake from the very beginning.”

The words stole the ground from beneath me, but I forced myself to stand straighter. “That’s not true. You said you wanted a child. Our child. Just give me five minutes, five minutes to explain.”

He scoffed, his jaw tightening. “You have some nerve, Elena, standing here pretending. You should be grateful I haven’t involved the police yet. You’d be in handcuffs by now, rotting in a cell for your crimes. The only reason I’m holding back is because of my mother. She’d be devastated if I dragged you through the mud. But don’t test me. I can damn the consequences and end this charade right now.”

Beside him, Isabella’s eyes softened, brimming with feigned fragility. She clutched his arm, her voice a silken plea.

“Don’t be afraid, Isa,” Damien murmured, his tone shifting, protective, tender in a way it had never been for me. “I’ll protect you. I won’t let you suffer even a scratch ever again.”

The sight of his gentleness toward her shattered me. I swallowed the bile clawing at my throat. “Why?” I asked, my voice breaking. “Why do you believe the words of a stranger over mine, Damien? Does our three-year marriage mean nothing to you?”

Isabella tilted her head, her lips curving into a concerned frown that didn’t reach her eyes. “What is going on, Damien? I heard something about police… crimes. Did Elena do something?” Her tone dripped with fabricated innocence, and I could see the lie shimmering beneath it.

“Don’t worry about it, Isa,” Damien said softly, his voice laced with endearment that cut into me deeper than any blade. “It’s nothing to concern you.”

The way he said her name, Isa, like it was sacred, like it was tender, made me feel invisible. I had been erased from his world, replaced, discarded.

But I gathered what little courage I had left. Beyond the ache, beyond the humiliation, I forced my voice to steady. “Can… can we please just talk? Five minutes. In private. Damien, let me explain.”

“There’s nothing left to say,” he replied flatly, as if my plea were nothing but noise. “If you want Elijah to keep his job, sign the divorce papers. Otherwise,”

“You’re heartless,” Elijah snapped, fury blazing in his eyes. “Can’t you see she’s,”

“Elijah, don’t!” I grabbed his arm, my desperation sharper than his rage. He didn’t understand. If Damien thought this child was leverage, he’d rip it from me without hesitation.

Damien’s eyes narrowed at the interruption, suspicion flashing like lightning. But before he could speak again, Isabella’s syrupy voice broke the moment.

“Oh, Damien,” she cooed sweetly, “I think I left my phone in the car. Could you fetch it for me?”

He hesitated, just a breath, but then turned on his heel without another word. I watched him walk away, obedient, unquestioning, her errand boy.

And in that instant, I wondered bitterly if he had ever done the same for me.

No. He never had.

The instant he was gone, Isabella pivoted toward me. Her painted smile dropped, revealing the venom underneath.

“You couldn’t keep him,” she sneered. “Just like your mother couldn’t keep her husband. It’s your turn to lose everything, Elena.”

My pulse thundered. “You vile, ”

Elijah stepped forward, fury blazing in his eyes. “You shameless witch, ”

“Shameless?” Isabella laughed coldly. “Do you want to know why Damien will never look at you again? Because I’m carrying his child. His true heir. Not your pathetic attempt at tying him down. You? You’re nothing. Just a discarded wife clinging to scraps.”

The words knocked the air from my lungs. My ears rang. For a moment, the world went silent except for the sound of my heart cracking in two.

Damien. My husband. With her.

I could endure his coldness. I could endure his mistrust. But betrayal? That I could never forgive.

“You’re lying,” I whispered, though the dread in my chest told me I wasn’t sure anymore.

Her smirk widened. “Am I? Tell yourself whatever you like. But Damien’s already mine.”

Elijah lunged, fist raised, but at that moment Damien reappeared.

“Elijah!” Damien barked. Guards rushed forward, grabbing my brother before his fist could land.

“Let him go!” I cried, trying to push past the guards. In the chaos, Isabella shoved me.

Pain exploded through my abdomen.

I gasped, clutching my stomach as white-hot agony shot through me. The medical report slipped from my fingers, fluttering uselessly to the floor.

“Elena!” Elijah roared, struggling against the guards as I collapsed.

The last thing I saw was Isabella’s satisfied smile before darkness swallowed me whole.

When I woke, the antiseptic sting of hospital air filled my nose. My hand was cold, but Elijah’s warm grip anchored me to the world.

“Thank God,” he whispered hoarsely. “You’re awake.”

My lips parted. “The baby?”

A tear slipped down his cheek. “Still here. Still fighting. It’s a miracle.”

Relief crashed through me, and I sobbed quietly into the pillow.

“Elena… you need to tell him,” Elijah pleaded. “Damien owes you too much. He has to know you’re pregnant.”

I turned my face away. “He cheated on me with Isabella. He believed her lies but not me, his wife. He didn’t even come when I fainted. Did he?”

Elijah’s silence answered.

“I won’t beg for his love, Elijah. Not with this child. Not with my dignity. He made his choice, and now I’ll make mine. Isabella can have him, his money, his empire, his cold heart. But she’ll never have my babies. I won’t use them to win him back.”

Elijah squeezed my hand tightly, his eyes shining. “You’re just like Mom. Stronger than you know.”

“I’m tired,” I whispered. “So tired. But I’ll protect them with everything I have. Promise me, Elijah. Don’t tell him. He’ll take them away.”

He nodded fiercely. “I promise.”

At that moment, the door opened. Elijah’s supervisor entered, his face rigid.

“Elijah Carter,” he said stiffly, “you’re fired. Assaulting a patient is grounds for termination.”

“You mean defending my sister from that viper?” Elijah shot back. He tore off his staff badge, his eyes blazing. “I quit. I wouldn’t work another day for the Rothschilds if you begged me.”

He stormed out, leaving me trembling in the hospital bed.

Alone, exhausted, I drifted into a restless sleep.

And in my dream, I was ten years old again, kneeling by the roadside. A boy with blood on his shirt lay crumpled on the dirt, his lips pale, his breath shallow.

“Help him!” I had screamed, cradling him in my arms.

That boy’s name had been Damien Rothschild.

And back then, he had looked at me with eyes full of trust.

Now, years later, those same eyes had only looked at me with hate.

Somewhere between dreams and waking, I felt a hand slip into mine. Warm. Familiar. Comforting.

“Damien?” I whispered faintly, but I didn’t open my eyes.

The warmth lingered for only a moment, then disappeared, leaving me in the darkness.