Revenge of the Billionaire's Dead Fiance

Katherina

"Wait, say that again," I said, gripping the phone tighter against my ear, my voice rising with anticipation before I could even help it.

"You heard me, Kath. That baby of yours could come any minute now. You’re officially in the final stretch. Get ready."

I let out a shaky laugh and ran my hand over my round belly, as if the little one inside could hear him. "Oh my God, Ryan, are you serious?"

"As serious as your midnight cravings," he said with a laugh. "You’ve been nesting, your last checkup was solid, and those Braxton Hicks contractions are getting more intense. I'd say keep a hospital bag in the car and make sure you keep those feet up."

I couldn’t stop grinning. My heart was racing. "I can’t believe it."

"I can. You’ve come a long way, Kath. It’s about time. You and Lysander have been what, three years in? And now a baby on the way? Maybe now he’ll actually do the right thing and make you his wife."

I rolled my eyes and smiled so hard my cheeks ached, my heart full as Lysander’s words echoed in my mind: “After the baby comes, Kath, I’m giving you the wedding you deserve. Just trust me.”

"You’ve been waiting for three years, sweetheart," Ryan said, teasing the way he always did. I could practically imagine his bushy eyebrows wiggling. "What’s he waiting for? The kid’s first birthday?"

I laughed, even though my chest tightened a little. "No, no, he’s just been busy with work and everything going on. He promised, Ryan. A huge wedding, after the baby. He's just buried in the ThornTech merger right now.”

"Well, I better get an invite."

"You’ll get to deliver the vows if you want to," I joked. "Honestly, you’ve been more of a therapist than a doctor these days. Thank you for being there,not just as a friend, but as someone I could really count on.”

"I wear many hats," he said. There was a short pause, then his voice softened. "By the way, happy anniversary, Kath."

I blinked and my smile widened. "Wait… you remembered?"

"Of course I remembered. Who could forget the day Katherina and Lysander became ‘officially complicated’? You guys never miss celebrating that"

I snorted. "Yes, we do. Every year. He always does something sweet."

"Well, here’s hoping this is the year he finally follows through and puts a ring on it. I’ve got to run, go eat something sugary, lie down, breathe easy. Don’t let stress get to you. And keep your phone close."

"Yes, sir," I said with a smile. "Thank you, Ryan. Really."

"Anytime, troublemaker. Talk soon."

The call ended with a soft beep, but I stood there for a moment in the quiet of my living room, phone still in my hand, my heart filled with a warm buzz that spread all the way down to my toes.

I glanced over at the cake box sitting on the counter and smiled again. The top read “Three Sweet Years” in soft gold icing, with a tiny fondant baby bootie just above the lettering. I had it custom made, half red velvet, Lysander's favorite, and half vanilla, mine. A perfect balance. Just like we always said we were.

I picked up the box carefully, making sure not to ruin the decoration, and walked toward the front door. The keys to the golden Aston Martin sparkled from where I had left them earlier. He had handed them to me just months ago, said it was a promise gift,something shiny to match my smile until the actual ring came.

And I believed him.

The drive to his house was smooth, the sun shining warmly through the windshield as I turned into his driveway. My heartbeat quickened as I stepped out of the car, carefully balancing the cake in my hands. I walked up and knocked on the door, twice.

"Lysander ?" I called, smiling, the excitement bubbling in my chest. "Babe, open up, it’s me."

There was no answer.

I frowned a little and tilted my head, listening. Maybe he was in the shower. Or on a call.

"Lysander ?" I knocked again, this time louder.

Still nothing.

With a sigh, I juggled the cake in one arm and reached down for the spare key under the welcome mat. He never remembered to hide it properly. I unlocked the door and stepped inside quietly, making sure not to slam it behind me.

The living room was clean. His sneakers were neatly beside the couch, and a half-empty bottle of water sat on the coffee table. I walked in slowly, the cake still in my hands, heart light with excitement.

"Lysander ?" I called out, my voice soft with a smile. "I brought cake…"

Then I heard it.

A sound, low at first. Then clearer. Rhythmic. Intimate.

Moaning.

A man and a woman. Their voices tangled together.

My heart stopped.

The box hit the marble floor with a sickening crunch. The lid flew open, spilling 'Three Sweet Years' into a grotesque smear of red and white." I didn’t move. Couldn’t.

My chest tightened as I stared toward the hallway.

No.

No, this couldn’t be happening.

I took a shaky step back, and my heel hit something. I looked down.

A shoe. Bright red. High. Definitely not mine.

Pain shot across my belly, sharp, intense. I gripped the side of the counter and gasped.

"Ouch, okay, not now, baby," I whispered, trying to catch my breath. "Please… not now…"

I steadied myself against the wall and inhaled deeply, trying to breathe through the pain and panic. Each breath burned. Each step toward the hallway felt heavier.

The bedroom door was cracked open—just barely, but enough.

The bed creaked, and the moans grew louder. A woman’s voice echoed through the room, laughing softly, whispering his name.

I pushed the door open slowly, just enough to see Lysander—naked, moving—on top of someone.

Her face turned, and I caught the soft curve of her cheek, her long hair spilling across the pillow.

I froze.

It was my sister.

Seraphina.

Her legs wrapped around his hip, wearing the anklet I gave her last Christmas