Hated Wife

Piper did not like the venom in Thomas's eyes when she looked into them. They reminded her of her own father, and the last fight he'd had with Nana.

She closed her eyes, willing the memory away.

Breathe.

She told herself.

Piper breathe.

Thomas carelessly flung his hand toward Leo. “You’ve placed him wrongly again,” he said flatly. “Do you fumble with everything, or is this a habit?”

“I—I’m sorry—”

“Sorry doesn’t fix mistakes.”

She moved, tried to straighten the blanket, but Leo’s sleeping weight kept it crooked.

His stared at it for a second too long.

“Do you even understand how much damage a small mistake can cause in this house?”

Thomas didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. The calmness of it was worse—tearing sharp, like a surgical blade.

His gaze drifted past her, skimming the flawless marble floors.

“A scratch here. A smear there. And that's how things go to rot." His jaw flexed. “I want absolute competence. Or are you incapable of keeping things in order?”

The words slid under Piper’s skin. Her stomach tightened, a slow, sinking pull. She opened her mouth, breath stuttering halfway out.

“I—I wasn’t—”

“I don’t care what you weren’t.”

She put her head down, left her mouth shut.

His eyes snapped back to her.

He stepped closer.

Piper stepped back, his presence pressed against her rips.

“I care about what you are doing here. And everything you are doing—” his voice lowered deliberately, “—is wrong. Proving how incompetent you are for this job.”

Piper felt a fragile force in her throat first—heat, pressure—then in her chest, where her heart seemed to knock once, hard, like it had struck a wall.

Her lips parted again, but nothing came out. I’m trying. I’m careful. I care—

The words stayed trapped behind her teeth.

“What? What do you have to say? Say it!" He snapped.

Toby stirred at the sound of Thomas's voice, confused by the tone if not the words. The boy edged closer to Piper, eyes frantic with fear, small fingers curling into her clothes. The small act from him slapped Piper's heart like a tone of bricks.

In front of the child, her mind screamed.

Why would Thomas do this?

Thomas noticed the action.

Something dark crossed his face.

“Don’t,” he said sharply. “Don’t start that.”

She swallowed hard. Her throat hurting.

“I care about these children." The words slipped out before she could stop them.

Thomas laughed under his breath.

“You and I know that you do not love my children. You are here to obey, to perform for the money. It'd be best you excute it properly."

He didn’t pause.

“Do you know what’s worse than being incapable?”

He tilted his head slightly, studying her like a flaw under bright light.

“Being proud of it.” His mouth curved—not a smile, not quite. “You hesitate when you should act. You smile when you should be correcting yourself. You stand there waiting to be saved.”

He took another step.

“You don’t belong here.”

Her fingers trembled where they held Toby. Her legs felt like jelly. Not visibly—she forced them still—but the effort was futile.

The room felt too exposed. She couldn't hide.

“I… I’ll do better,” she whispered.

The words sounded unconvincing, even to her.

“Do better?” He echoed it softly, almost curious.

He looked at her fully now, with cold certainty, his eyes hardening.

“From the moment you walked in, I knew. You will never be enough for this house. You will never be enough for them.” A beat. “You will never be enough for me.”

Each sentence landed separately. Clean. Final.

He turned for the door.

Piper felt it spread—an ache blooming behind her ribs, heavy and slow, as though something inside her had cracked and was sinking inward. She forced air into her lungs. Forced her shoulders back.

Don’t fall apart Piper. Not in front of him.

“And one more thing.”

He paused at the doorway.

“Do not confuse tolerance with affection. I do not like you. I do not trust you. You are temporary. Matter of fact, I have a girlfriend, and you'll meet her soon.”

He straightened, already disengaging.

“Do not let emotions make you careless. Not now or ever.” “You are an employee, and I am paying far too much for mistakes.”

Then he was gone.

The silence he left behind was heavier than the shouting would have been.

Piper stood there, knees locked, heart hammering so hard, closing up in a way that breath had to squeeze its way in. Her lips trembled before she pressed them together.

She blinked hard, steadying the sting behind her eyes.

She would forget everything he'd said.

Everything he'd done.

Forget who she was, and break for him.

For Nana, she reminded herself. Just for Nana.

Whatever it demanded.

Because Nana needed the treatment.

Because money was the line between hope and goodbye.

———

In the living room, Thomas dragged a hand through his hair as he paced. His lips pursed. His hands folded into a fist at his sides, as though restraining from punching something.

His steps were sharp and misdirected.

That woman was chaos. She was too warm, too cheerful. The kind of person who reached before thinking. Who promised without measuring the cost.

That scared him more than anything could.

PRIVATE WIFE?

That was the headline from a blog this morning.

He couldn't forget the comments underneath the post. Speculations already gnawing at the edges of his name, strangers dissecting a decision that was never meant for them. A marriage reduced to gossip.

His jaw locked.

This—this—was why he couldn’t afford mistakes. Not from her. Not from anyone. One crack, one careless moment, and the world would pry his life open.

He exhaled heavily.

He would not let her become a liability. She did not belong in his world. Could never be his wife in any sense that mattered.

And yet—

He stopped abruptly, chest rising, falling.

His sons.

They had already begun to orbit her—gravitating toward her softness like something long deprived.

Trusting and needing her.

Thomas closed his eyes, jaw tightening.

He would endure her. For them.

Even if she carried his name, she would never cross that line. Never touch him. Never undo the order he had built.

She was a temporary solution.

And he would keep her exactly that way.

Even if—

The home phone rang, disrupting his thoughts.

He got to it and picked up.

It was Paige.