Chapter four

Jane's pov

Stranger showed up

It had been three days. Three days since my miscarriage. Three days since Amanda had walked back into our lives like a storm, and Christian had done nothing but remind me every waking moment that I was the one who had killed our baby.

Wicked mother. Selfish woman.

His words haunted me, ringing in my ears every time I closed my eyes. He didn’t even try to hide his disdain. If Amanda wasn’t around to soak up his affection, he made sure I bore the brunt of his bitterness.

And yet, here I was. In the kitchen, slicing vegetables, trying to prepare dinner for a man who couldn’t even look at me without anger in his eyes.

The sound of the front door opening pulled me from my thoughts. Christian walked in, his face, as usual, set in a frown. His tie was loosened, and his movements were sharp, like everything around him irritated him including me.

“Welcome home,” I said softly, trying not to let the tension in my voice show.

He glanced at me, his eyes scanning the kitchen before landing on me. “There’s a gala tonight,” he said abruptly, tossing his briefcase onto the couch. “It’s for the company’s biggest investors. I’ll be attending.”

I turned off the stove and wiped my hands on a towel. “Okay. Should I set your dinner aside for when you get back?”

He looked at me, his brows furrowing. “You’re coming with me.”

The words took me by surprise. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” he said impatiently. “You’re still my wife. It would look bad if I went alone.”

I blinked, unsure if I was hearing him correctly. “Christian, you’ve spent the last three days making me feel like dirt. And now you want me to dress up and play the role of your loving wife?”

His jaw tightened. “Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be, Jane. Just come.”

I shook my head. “No. Not after how you’ve treated me. I can’t just pretend everything is fine.”

His expression darkened, and he took a step closer, his voice low and cold. “If you want to continue living in this house, under my roof, you’ll come to the gala. Or don’t. It’s up to you.”

His words stung, and I clenched my fists, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’ll come.”

I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the elegant navy blue gown I’d chosen. It hugged my figure perfectly, with just enough sparkle to catch the light. For the first time in what felt like forever, I looked… beautiful. I had done my makeup carefully, letting my hair fall in loose waves over my shoulders.

As I walked downstairs, heels clicking on the polished wood, I spotted Christian waiting by the door. His eyes flicked up to me, and instead of the approval or even indifference I expected, his expression hardened.

“You’re overdressed,” he said sharply.

I stopped in my tracks. “What?”

“You don’t need to look like that,” he said, gesturing to my dress. “The investors aren’t coming to see you. Go change into something less… showy.”

I stared at him, my mind reeling. Wasn’t this what every man wanted? To see their wife looking beautiful? To show her off?

But Christian wasn’t every man. He was a man who would rather protect Amanda’s feelings than let me shine.

Without a word, I turned around, my heart sinking, and changed into a simpler black dress. It was plain, modest, and far from the elegant look I had hoped for.

When I returned, Christian was already in the car, his impatience visible even from a distance. I slipped into the passenger seat, and the car ride to the gala was silent.

As we pulled into the grand hall’s parking lot, I noticed two invitation cards on the dashboard. My heart swelled slightly. Maybe… just maybe, they were for the both of us.

But the moment I stepped out of the car and adjusted my dress, Christian turned to me, his phone buzzing in his pocket.

“I’ll be right back,” he said curtly.

I nodded, smoothing my dress. “I’ll head to the restroom and meet you inside.”

He barely acknowledged me as he walked toward the entrance, his phone already at his ear.

When I came back from the restroom a few minutes later, my heart stopped.

Christian was standing at the door, but he wasn’t alone. Amanda was with him, her hand tucked into his arm. They laughed together, their faces close, as they walked into the gala like a perfect couple.

I stood frozen, watching them disappear inside. My mind raced, and I hurried back to the car. The dashboard was empty. The cards were gone.

Anger boiled in my chest. This wasn’t just humiliation, it was betrayal.

I stormed toward the entrance, but a security guard blocked my way. “Ma’am, do you have an invitation?”

“I don’t,” I said, my voice trembling with frustration. “But my husband is inside. Christian Holmes.”

The guard’s expression remained firm. “I’m sorry, ma’am. No invitation, no entry.”

I tried to push past him, but his hand gripped my arm firmly. “Step back, ma’am.”

“Let me go!” I snapped, struggling against his grip.

“What’s going on here?”

A deep voice cut through the tension, and I turned to see a tall, well dressed man approaching us. His sharp features and confident demeanor were striking.

“She’s causing a scene,” the guard said.

The man’s gaze softened as it landed on me. “She’s with me,” he said firmly. “Let her through.”

The guard hesitated, but after a moment, he let me go.

“Are you okay?” the stranger asked, his voice gentle.

I nodded, still in shock. “Thank you. I… I don’t know who you are, but thank you.”

He smiled slightly. “Let’s just say I don’t like seeing anyone treated unfairly.”

We walked inside together, and I turned to thank him again, but before I could, a voice cut through the air like a knife.

“What the hell are you doing with my wife?”

Christian stood a few feet away, his eyes blazing. He turned to me, his voice cold and demanding.

“Jane, who the fuck is this?”