Were you in Vegas?

Eleanor's POV

“Mother!”

Sophie’s voice echoed through the entrance the moment I stepped inside. She came running toward me, her suitcase wheels rattling behind her, Gabriel following quietly with the rest of my luggage.

For a second, I almost forgot how to breathe as I stepped inside the house.

It's been two days and five hours since I have known my husband and my best friend secret.

As soon as I arrived at the airport, I had reminded Gabriel of his promise.

He had nodded, serious and obedient, like he always did. I was his boss. He knew better than to talk. Still, trust was fragile now. Everything was fragile.

One careless word from him could destroy a night of planning.

So I smiled.

“Hey, darling,” I said softly, opening my arms. “I see you did your hair.”

Sophie beamed as she hugged me. “Do you like it?”

I pulled back slightly, studying her face, her curls, the familiar dimples that used to make me proud because I thought they were mine.

“Yes,” I cooed. “It looks beautiful on you.”

My heart was bleeding.

And I pretended not to feel it.

Fifteen and half years of believing she was my flesh and blood, and loving her without question.

And now… Now I wasn’t even sure she was mine.

My gaze drifted to the phone in her hand. A brand-new one, shiny and expensive.

“And a new iPhone?” I asked lightly. “Did your father get that for you? I thought you were waiting until your sixteenth birthday.”

Sophie laughed and shook her head.

“Nope! Aunt Rachel bought it for me,” she said proudly. “It’s for her birthday. Funny, right? It’s her birthday but she’s giving me gifts. She’s the best.”

My fingers twitched at my side.

Aunt Rachel.

“She also recommended this hairstyle,” Sophie continued, touching her hair. “She said it would suit me. And I think she was right.”

Of course she did.

“Come!” Sophie grabbed my hand. “She’s cooking right now. She heard you were coming today, so she wanted to make lunch. The workers are still on leave, remember?”

She kept talking as she dragged me toward the kitchen, while chattering away on how Rachel's birthday went. The fun, the glamour...

I didn’t hear a word.

All I heard was Rachel.

Rachel bought this. Rachel suggested that.

Rachel is cooking.

Rachel is here.

Rachel is acting like her mother.

My steps slowed, but Sophie didn’t notice.

It hadn’t struck me before.

When Sophie was born, Rachel had been there every day. Every doctor visit, every school event, every birthday, but I had thought it was friendship, and loyalty.

I had thought it was love for me.

How stupid I was.

Now I understood.

She wasn’t being a good aunt.

She was being a mother.

Her real mother.

My vision blurred, and I quickly shut my eyes, telling myself not to cry, or scream or lose control.

It wasn’t time yet and one mistake or emotional slip would collapse every plan I had carefully crafted.

I took a slow breath and forced my lips into a smile.

First, I had to be sure about Sophie’s real identity.

I would get their DNA, quietly and secretly.

And when I had the truth in my hands…

Then, and only then, would I begin.

But for now, I'll keep my company safe from those gold digger.

I walked into the dining room slowly, my heels barely making a sound against the floor.

Rachel was coming down from the kitchen, an apron tied around her waist, her hair loosely packed like this was her home and her family.

“Oh my God, Ellie, you’re back!”

She dropped the pot on the table and rushed toward me before I could even react.

I barely had time to brace myself.

Please don’t let me push her away. Please don’t let me lose control.

Her arms wrapped around me.

“You look tired,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to one cheek… then the other.

My body stiffened.

I forced a smile, my fists clenching at my sides. “Yeah,” I said softly. “You look… happy.”

Inside, I felt sick.

That kiss made my stomach turn.

It felt dirty and wrong.

Like poison on my skin.

It reminded me of Judas kissing Jesus before betraying him.

Only in my case, Rachel hadn’t betrayed me once.

She had been doing it for years, right under my nose.

She laughed lightly and crossed her arms. “Of course I’m happy. I just turned a year older.” She pouted playfully. “Though I was a little sad you couldn’t come to my birthday party. It felt lonely without you.”

I almost scoffed.

Almost.

The audacity of her.

The fake sadness.

The fake affection.

The lies dripping from her lips.

“Oh, really?” I murmured, my eyes rolling slightly before I could stop myself.

“Of course,” she replied smoothly, then turned to Sophie. “Baby, go get your father. Tell him Eleanor is back already.”

My head snapped up.

Baby?

My heart skipped painfully.

She had always spoken like that. Always sounded… possessive, familiar. Too comfortable.

Before, I had ignored it.

I had brushed it off.

I had told myself I was overthinking.

Now I could see it clearly.

Her words while addressing me seem like I was an intruder, an outsider.

Sophie nodded and hurried away.

Before Rachel could say anything else, I lifted my chin and smiled sweetly.

“Tell him his beautiful wife is back,” I added lightly.

The words tasted bitter in my mouth.

I hated being called his wife now.

Hated what that title represented and what it had become.

But if it annoyed Rachel… If it made her uncomfortable… then I would say it a thousand times.

Rachel’s smile widened, but her lips slowly pressed into a thin line.

“Of course,” she said lightly. “His beautiful wife. My beautiful friend.”

I dropped my gaze almost immediately, irritated by the pretence of it all.

Beautiful friend.

What a joke.

Rachel was disgusting.

Absolutely disgusting.

“Honey, you’re back. I wanted to pick you up from the airport myself.”

James’s voice sounded behind me before I could prepare myself.

Then his arms wrapped around my waist.

He pulled me close and pressed a kiss against my neck.

I froze.

My eyes slid shut instantly.

Don’t react.

Don’t flinch.

Don’t expose yourself.

All I could think about was him kissing Rachel.

Those same lips.

The same mouth.

The same warmth he was now using on me.

I felt sick.

“Eww,” Sophie muttered as she took a seat at the table.

Rachel nodded in agreement. “I know, right?”

James laughed softly.

I didn’t, not even a little.

I needed to get away from them before I completely lost control.

I didn’t know how long I could keep pretending I didn’t know their secrets.

It was suffocating.

“Ellie, go freshen up and come join us for lunch,” Rachel said cheerfully. “I made your favourite pasta.”

She passed a plate to James, who was already sitting down like this was some perfect little family scene.

My eyes drifted to the food.

It wasn’t my favourite, not even close.

I let out a small, humourless breath.

“You mean my husband’s favourite pasta,” I said calmly. “Oh, Rachel… did you forget what my favourite is?”

Her lips parted, then closed.

No words came out.

She lifted a hand and rubbed the back of her neck nervously.

Bingo.

I sighed quietly and turned away.

I needed air.

I needed distance.

I needed to breathe.

I had barely taken two steps when—

“Honey.”

James’s voice stopped me.

I paused.

“What is it?” I asked, sharper than I meant to.

He stared at his phone for a moment before lifting his head.

“Were you in Vegas yesterday? A friend of mine said he saw you there.”

My body went cold.

I froze.

My eyes blinked rapidly as my mind raced.

Vegas?

Yesterday?

Sophie and Rachel both turned to look at me.

“I thought you were in Singapore?” Rachel asked slowly, her eyes narrowing.

James glanced back at his phone. “He said he even took a picture of you.”

My throat tightened.

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding violently against my ribs.

Was this it?

Had they caught me?

Was everything about to collapse before it even began?