MasukCHAPTER FOUR
"Run like the day you killed Adrian." The words kept ringing in my mind like an echo. How dare he say that I killed our child? I clench the bedsheet. I had wanted a baby more than he wanted to be a father. I was pumped when I was pregnant. He would say anything to paint me as the villain so he could have his hands on Cyanne. How could he accuse a mother of killing her own child? "Ma'am. Dinner is served," I hear the bell ring. I ignore it, curling deeper into my bed. My hands on my stomach. A few hours later. I wake up to find my stomach grumbling loudly. I check the time. It's quite late and I'm sure everyone has retired to their beds. I could just sneak into the kitchen. I wonder why I feel this hungry. It almost feels like the room is spinning. I race down the stairs on my toes. I haven't seen any lights. I use the fridge light to grab the sour grapes. They're sour, but they taste delicious on my tongue. A plate is on the table covered in foil. We hardly have leftovers. Desmond always loves fresh food. He insists we don't microwave food. My hand plucks the sour grapes as I relish the taste on my tongue. While my other hand pulls the foil off the plate. "You should have been in the dining room with us, Lavanda." I jump, holding my chest before registering his voice. Desmond was sitted on the stool with two glass of orange juice in front of him. "I don't owe you any explanation." "You do. Apologize to Cyanne." "I won't do that." I close the foil back. "Give me my phone and laptop." "What will you do? Run off to some man's house, divorce me, and eat on the streets?" "Anything is better than staying here." "Nobody will love you. You can't bear children." He sips his juice gently, watching my face. "I don't need a child to complete me." He clicks his tongue, sipping his juice. I saw what you did outside. I swallow hard. My car and this. He drops something on the table. “Our wedding ring” I took a deep breath. That's for locking me up. I hope this is all about it. He reaches for my finger, forcing back my wedding ring. You are lucky that Cyanne begged, stop being hard. It pulsed underneath my finger. I don't want this marriage. He peeked me on the forehead. You don't know what you want, let me be the judge of that. I perceive his aftershave. Warm, comforting and suffocating. Everything about this house was. This is for you. The baby. Us. He grabs the juice from the table. "I wish you would get along with her. For the baby's sake." Here he goes again. For the baby. For Cyanne. For this. For that. What about me? Doesn't anyone care what I want? "I won't do it," I say firmly. He holds the two glasses and stands by the kitchen door. "No gadgets. No stepping out of this house." "You can't..." "I can. And I just did." He leaves, probably taking the glass of juice to her. Maybe it's all my fault. If only my miscarriage hadn't happened, it would have been me drinking that juice. Still, I can't stay here any longer. I have to get my gadgets before I go mad. I finish the grapes and the leftover food and head to my room. "Thank you, Desmond," I hear Cyanne's voice after his retreating figure. I hide behind a wall. "Anything for you and the child." He leaves with one half-glass of juice. I wonder why they aren't sleeping in the same room. Then I remember. He has a meeting with some investors in the morning. One that I have to attend as Co-CEO. I smile. He wouldn't leave without me. And that's when I'll get my chance. Sunday Beckett mansion 7:00am I wake up to the smell of bacon and eggs. I wash up and prepare myself for the meeting. There's no way he's going to lie about my sudden disappearance to the investors. He loves his image as the perfect husband. I walk into the kitchen. Cyanne is prepping breakfast. She just can't wait to be Mrs. Too bad Desmond doesn't see her as a wife. "Wow. Something smells good here," he praises, coming downstairs in his work attire. I never caught him praising me for mine. She places a plate in front of him and I can't help but watch the happiness on his face. It burns me. Wondering if he had loved my sister all along before he decided to marry me. That would explain the expensive gifts he always bought for her. Her gifts always topped mine. His eyes pop as he takes a bite of the bread and I wonder what's so special about it. He doesn't even recognize that I'm here, watching him revel in her cooking. "Lavanda, this is for you," she grins, placing a horrible display of vegetables, eggs, and toast in front of me. I just stare at the plate. My stomach grumbles. I don't want to look like I want it. Desmond looks up at me for the first time. "Your food is untouched." "I lost my appetite." I push the plate forward. "I need my phone to prep for the investor meeting today." He chuckles, almost choking on his food. I reach for the water. But she beats me to it, feeding him the glass of water from the table. "Thank you," he smiles. I roll my eyes at the gesture. "I can't have you in the company. Not in this state of mind. Unless you make up with Cyanne, I don't guarantee you'll go to the party." My eyes widen. I check if he's serious, but I know Desmond doesn't bluff. Why is he doing all this to keep me stuck here? I tighten my fist under the table, thinking on my feet. "They will ask questions." "And I will tell them my wife is ill," he says sharply, patting Cyanne's stomach. She blushes. That’s the only thing he sees right now. The baby. Not me. "How will you seal the deal when you hardly know the investors?" "I can help with that," Cyanne says. What the hell does she know about closing deals or running a business? "No. Don't stress yourself or the baby. I got this." He stands, dropping a card on the table. "Take yourselves out and order something nice for tonight's party." I smile a bit replacing it with a scorn as his eyes met mine. “And if you don't behave, Lavanda, there will be no party for you," he warns.Lavanda I wonder if anyone is asking about my whereabouts. I hardly take a day off at work. The maids pack the dishes from the table. My stomach lurches. I haven't eaten. I sneak off to the kitchen. I pull the door handle. It doesn't budge. I try again. Nothing. I'm about to pounce on it when I hear the jingling of keys. "Are you hungry, sister?" Her cruel smile fills her stupid face. I curl my nails. She's doing this on purpose. "Do you want this?" Her red nails play with the keys.Three painted in gold. The other steel. That's the one I need. "Can you see how much your beloved husband wants me?" I dig my nails deeper. My stepsister was always the planner. "I only see an unloved bastard," I spit, noticing her red hair packed into a simple bun. "Playing the submissive wife already, sister?" She fumes. "You never shared your toys with me. And now I have what belongs to you." I laugh coldly. "He loves you because of that thing in your womb. Not you." "Then why did h
CHAPTER FOUR"Run like the day you killed Adrian." The words kept ringing in my mind like an echo.How dare he say that I killed our child? I clench the bedsheet. I had wanted a baby more than he wanted to be a father. I was pumped when I was pregnant. He would say anything to paint me as the villain so he could have his hands on Cyanne.How could he accuse a mother of killing her own child?"Ma'am. Dinner is served," I hear the bell ring.I ignore it, curling deeper into my bed. My hands on my stomach.A few hours later. I wake up to find my stomach grumbling loudly. I check the time. It's quite late and I'm sure everyone has retired to their beds.I could just sneak into the kitchen.I wonder why I feel this hungry. It almost feels like the room is spinning.I race down the stairs on my toes. I haven't seen any lights.I use the fridge light to grab the sour grapes. They're sour, but they taste delicious on my tongue.A plate is on the table covered in foil. We hardly have l
Lavanda I wanted an end. A quiet, dignified ending. But years of being treated like the problem hardened me. I pick up my phone. My decision is clear. Only one way out. I dial Red. "Hello?" His voice, warm and familiar, curls through the receiver. "It's me, Lavanda." "Lavanda..." His tone lifts, bubbling with excitement. "It's been a long time." "Send me whatever pictures or videos you have," I say. I know he has something. A pause. "Why do you need them?" he asks. "Red, do you want your money or not?" "Sorry," he mutters before ending the call. I take a breath. Freedom has a taste. Sharp and dangerous. And I want it. Red wasn't just my investigator. He was Desmond's old friend, a relentless flirt, a man who tried again and again to bed me. I always said no, clinging to the foolish idea that I was married. When Desmond traveled to Paris on one of his "suspicious" trips, I hired Red to follow him. To catch him. To strip away every lie. Now, Paris would become my salva
Lavanda I run to the car park, my tears obscuring my vision. I can barely see where I parked my car. "Ma'am, are you alright?" the security guard asks. I snub his fake sympathy.I clean my tears properly and walk to my car. He approaches and I roll up my window, starting the engine before I break down.The result is an almost-bashed company gate and my salty tears.I drive, completely unaware of where I'm headed. I don't drink or go anywhere that isn't this company. Home is out of the question, but where would I go if not there?My fingers clench the steering wheel. I just want to be alone and cry.Each tear drop draws me down memory lane. Times when we were in love. When he took me out and made sure everything was perfect. When he cried if I didn't like what he bought. When he was gentle with his touch.I hit the steering wheel with my fist. That hospital. That night. Adrian. If I hadn't lost him on the balcony while working, maybe Desmond wouldn't have left.He didn't h
Lavanda They say once a cheater, always a cheater. I believe in second chances. I stayed back to prove them wrong.I scribble the word _CHEAT_ on my husband's desk. Red lines slash across his documents. Then I slip back to my desk.Watching. Waiting for him to walk in. I pick up my phone and send him a message: Happy anniversary, Desmond.I imagine his facial expression. He was good with words but bad at hiding emotions.It ticks double blue. He's online. That's a good sign. I pretend to work on my laptop until I hear his door slam shut. I put my ear to the wall. I don't hear screams.I stand and snoop toward the corridor. His secretary isn't at her seat. Alvarez Software Company was one of the first in the tech industry and the market. I build software and my husband protects them. Except now, what I do is mostly paperwork.I check my watch again. She's supposed to take the contract from him now. Unless... I grab my phone and bag and head straight for his office







