chapter two

“Where is she coming from? You didn’t sleep at home?” my mother-in-law’s shrill voice pierced through the living room the second I stepped inside. “I always knew you were a slut, but my son refused to see it.”

I slowly lifted my eyes to look at her.

Edward’s mother had never liked me.

No....that wasn’t true.

She hated me.

From the very first day Edward introduced me as his wife, she treated me like dirt beneath her designer heels. Nothing I did was ever enough. Not the expensive gifts. Not the respect. Not the effort. Not the years I spent trying to become the perfect daughter-in-law for a family that never wanted me.

Oddly enough, this was the gentlest she had ever spoken to me.

“Help me serve the guests in the guest room,” she ordered coldly.

“No, thank you,” I replied softly.

Then I walked past her.

For once, I was done.

Done begging for acceptance.

Done shrinking myself.

Done bleeding just to keep everyone comfortable.

I was Roselyn Evan and now i know that I'm from the Rue family

Daughter of the legendary Rue family.

And I had humiliated myself for this family long enough.

Behind me, Edward’s mother began screaming insults, but I didn’t stop walking. Not even once.

What were the maids for?

Why did I always have to lower myself and play servant in a house that had never truly been mine?

No.

Not “never truly.”

It was never mine at all.

I entered the bedroom and mechanically prepared for work. Maybe drowning myself in meetings and contracts would silence the chaos in my head.

I had already decided.

I would finish the final business deals tied to Edward’s company as a farewell gift to the man I had foolishly loved for years.

After that…

I was done.

Completely done.

I grabbed my bag and walked downstairs.

The moment I stepped into the living room, my feet stopped moving.

Jessica Sower

Edward’s assistant.

She sat comfortably on the couch beside his mother while the older woman fed her fruit with a smile so warm it made my chest ache.

Jessica rested a possessive hand on her stomach, glowing happily.

And suddenly, I recognized her voice.

The woman from Room 717.

The woman moaning beneath my husband last night.

My fingers tightened around my handbag.

Breathe, Roselyn.

Just breathe.

I turned toward the door, intending to leave before I shattered completely.

“This barren woman doesn’t even deserve to look at you,” Edward’s mother spat behind me.

The words hit harder than they should have.

Barren.

Like my worth as a woman existed only inside my womb and the funny thing was, how could I get pregnant when her son never touched me?

Slowly, I turned around.

And that was when I saw Edward descending the stairs.

God.

He looked beautiful.

A perfectly tailored three-piece suit hugged his broad frame, every step graceful, confident, powerful.

Once upon a time, one look at him would’ve made my heart race.

Now it only hurt.

His eyes landed on me, and for a brief second, something flickered across his face.

Guilt.

Pity.

The pity almost killed me.

Those eyes were one of the reasons I fell in love with him. Whenever he looked at me, I used to feel safe.

Protected.

Chosen.

But now?

Now I realized he had been the one pushing me into the fire all along.

“Roselyn,” he said quietly. “We need to talk.”

Every instinct screamed at me to leave.

Run.

Because whatever came next would destroy whatever little remained of me.

But I still walked toward them anyway.

Like a fool walking willingly toward her execution.

I sat on the couch farthest from them, my back straight despite the storm raging inside me.

“Roselyn,” Edward began carefully, “I know I have no right to ask this of you, but I don’t have another option.”

A cold feeling settled in my stomach.

“Since most people don’t know we’re married…” he continued, unable to fully meet my eyes, “I was thinking maybe we could separate publicly. Not divorce,” he added quickly, “just… let the world see Jessica as my wife.”

For a second, I genuinely thought I had misheard him.

“What?” My voice cracked. “What did you just say?”

Jessica lowered her eyes shyly and placed a hand over her stomach.

Edward inhaled deeply.

“She’s pregnant with my child, Roselyn. I can’t let my son be born illegitimate. You understand, right?”

“Understand?” I whispered.

Before I could speak again, his mother scoffed loudly.

“She should be grateful you’re not divorcing her entirely,” she snapped. “A barren woman like her should know her place.”

And suddenly—

I laughed.

Not a soft laugh.

Not a graceful one.

A broken one.

The kind of laugh people make right before they lose their minds.

This had to be a joke.

A cruel, twisted joke.

“How long?” I asked quietly after a moment.

Silence.

“How long have the two of you been together?”

Jessica hesitated before answering softly,

“Three years.”

Edward immediately shot her a warning glance, but it was too late.

Three years.

I stared at them blankly.

“One… two… three years?” I repeated slowly, counting on my fingers like my brain refused to process it. “And where exactly was I in this beautiful love story?”

My smile trembled.

“Oh.” I nodded slowly. “I was the mistress, wasn’t I?”

“Why are you acting like this is the end of the world?” Edward’s mother barked angrily. “You were the other woman from the beginning! Stop acting like you’ve been wronged.”

“Shut up, Mom!” Edward suddenly roared.

The entire room fell silent.

But honestly?

It didn’t matter anymore.

Nothing mattered anymore.

I looked at Edward quietly.

The man I loved.

The man I defended.

The man I built my life around.

A stranger wearing the face of my husband.

“Okay,” I said softly.

Edward blinked.

“You can make her your public wife.”

Relief instantly flooded his face.

“I knew you’d understand,” he said with a smile. “Roselyn, you’re truly....”

God-sent.

That was what he wanted to say.

Funny.

Because at that moment, he looked less like a man and more like the devil himself.