The Price of His Betrayal

Crystal sat on the balcony of the grand Blake mansion, her eyes distant as she gazed at the sprawling gardens below. The luxury around her was suffocating, a cruel reminder of how little she belonged. For over three years, she had lived in this house as Christian Blake’s wife, yet she had never felt more like a stranger, and no one regarded her as part of the family.

The whispers of scorn and judgment from Christian's family echoed in her mind. "Three years, and still no child?" Olivia, Christian’s mother, had sneered just days ago during a family dinner. "What good is she to this family if she can’t even fulfill her most basic duty?"

Her heart ached at the memory. The Blake family had never accepted her, not truly. They saw her as an outsider, an interloper who didn’t deserve to carry their legacy. Even the maids gossiped about her when they thought she couldn’t hear.

From the hallway below, faint voices drifted up.

"Poor Mrs. Blake," one maid murmured. "She tries so hard, but they treat her like she’s invisible."

"That’s what happens when you can’t give the family an heir," another replied. "They’ll never let her forget it."

Crystal clenched her hands into fists, forcing back the tears that threatened to spill. She wouldn’t cry. Not now. Not for them.

Her phone buzzed on the side table, cutting through the bitter silence. Grateful for the distraction, she reached for it.

"Hello?" she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her.

"Mrs. Blake," the doctor’s familiar voice greeted her. "This is Dr. Peterson. The results of the test you took last week are in. Could you come to the hospital at your earliest convenience? It’s important."

Crystal’s heart skipped a beat. The test—she had almost forgotten about it. For weeks, she had been plagued by nausea and weakness, but she had dismissed it as stress. Could it be something more?

"I’ll be there right away," she replied, already rising to her feet.

Within the hour, she arrived at the hospital, her nerves tingling with anticipation. Dr. Peterson greeted her warmly and led her to his office.

"Mrs. Blake," he began, handing her a printout of the results. "Congratulations. You’re pregnant—two weeks along."

The words hit her like a wave, sweeping away the pain and doubt that had consumed her for so long. Pregnant. She was going to be a mother. A child—her child and Christian’s. Tears of joy filled her eyes as she clutched the report to her chest.

"This is the best news I’ve heard in years," she whispered, a smile breaking through her usually stoic expression.

Dr. Peterson excused himself to retrieve some additional files, leaving her alone to process the news.

Crystal pulled out her phone, her fingers trembling with excitement as she dialed Christian’s number. It rang once, twice, three times then went to voicemail. She tried again, and again, but there was no answer. Undeterred, she typed out a message:

"I have something good to tell you. Please call me back."

She leaned back in the chair, her smile widening as she imagined his reaction. Would he finally see her as the wife he had always wanted? Would this child bridge the chasm between them?

Her phone buzzed, and she quickly grabbed it, expecting a reply from Christian. Instead, a notification popped up—an image message.

Her breath caught in her throat as she opened it. The photo was unmistakable: Christian, shirtless, with his arms around Ilda. The two of them were tangled together on a bed, their intimacy glaringly obvious.

The room seemed to spin around her as the phone slipped from her hands and clattered onto the floor. She sat rooted in place, her breath shallow as the image of Christian and Ilda burned into her mind.

Crystal’s heart shattered into a million pieces as tears streamed down her face.

"How could he do this to me?" she whispered, her voice breaking.

Her grip tightened on the hospital chair beside her railing as a nurse approached with concern. “Mrs. Blake? Are you alright?”

Crystal didn’t respond. Her gaze was fixed on the screen, the photo still staring back at her like a cruel reminder of her place in Christian’s life. How long? she thought. How long had he been laughing behind my back?

She clutched her stomach instinctively, her joy replaced by a searing pain that threatened to consume her. The man she had sacrificed everything for—the man she had loved beyond reason—had betrayed her in the cruelest way possible, she whispered softly.

As the sound of her quiet sobs filled the room, one thought echoed in her mind:

What was she going to do now?

The nurse reached for her shoulder, but Crystal turned abruptly, her expression unreadable. “I need to go,” she said, her voice cold.

Crystal stepped out of the hospital into the blinding sunlight, her thoughts racing. She clutched the sonogram picture tightly in her hand, her heart a storm of emotions. She wanted to laugh, cry, and scream all at once. For the first time in years, hope bloomed inside her fragile, but alive.

As she walked toward the parking lot, her phone buzzed. She glanced down and froze. It was a breaking news alert. The headline read: "Christian Blake and Mystery Woman Spotted Leaving Luxe Five-Star Hotel."

Her stomach churned as she tapped the link. A video opened, showing Christian stepping out of the hotel lobby, his arm draped casually around Ilda. Paparazzi swarmed them, shouting questions, but Christian’s only response was a slight smirk.

Then Ilda turned to him, whispering something close to his ear. He chuckled, a sound Crystal hadn’t heard in months. The camera zoomed in as Ilda placed a hand over her stomach and smiled knowingly at the reporters.

Crystal’s knees weakened, and she clutched a nearby pole for support. The fragile joy she’d felt moments ago shattered into a thousand jagged pieces. The man she’d sacrificed everything for, the father of her unborn child, had just humiliated her in front of the entire world.