Chapter 2: Cruel Intrusion

“Tessa.”

The voice came from the entrance just after Rosa stormed out.

I was still on the floor, my back throbbing, my throat burning from where Curtis had gripped me. I turned slowly, blinking through tears.

Lauren Dean was standing there.

She walked in like she owned the house. Like she had every right to be there. Her heels clicked confidently against the tiles, her chin slightly raised, her lips curved in a small, mocking smile.

Her hands were folded across her chest, calm and composed, as if she had just stepped into a friendly gathering.

“You’ve taken explicit photos with others,” she said, tilting her head. “Why are you still here?”

Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

I swallowed, struggling to sit up properly. My waist felt like it had been crushed. I used my palm to support myself against the floor.

“Lauren… what are you doing here?” I asked.

Even as I spoke, memories flashed through my mind.

Three years ago, before Curtis and I got married, before this house became my home, Rosa had brought Lauren into Curtis’s life.

She had introduced her proudly, speaking about her wealthy background, about how her family was one of the most powerful and influential in the United States. Lauren was the heiress. Polished. Elegant. Perfect in Rosa’s eyes.

Back then, Curtis and I were still dating. We were deeply in love. The kind of love that makes you forget the world. Rosa had made it clear she preferred Lauren.

She wanted Curtis to marry into wealth and influence. She wanted Lauren as her daughter-in-law.

But Curtis chose me.

He went against his mother and married me.

Lauren had smiled through it all. Smiled at our wedding. Smiled whenever she visited. But her eyes never smiled.

“I’ll give you one day,” Lauren said now, laughing softly. “One day to divorce Curtis and leave Deveraux Manor.”

Her words hit me harder than the fall earlier.

I stared at her from the floor, my eyes widening.

“Were you the one who fabricated the photos?” I asked.

My voice shook, but I needed to know.

She didn’t look surprised that I asked.

Even after Curtis married me, Lauren never stopped coming around. She always claimed she was visiting Rosa.

She would sit in this same living room, sipping tea, smiling politely at me. But there was always something else beneath that smile. Something calculating.

She had been waiting.

“So what?” she replied casually now, stepping closer. She chuckled as if we were discussing something amusing. “Now Curtis believes you cheated on him.”

She leaned down slightly so her face was closer to mine.

“You should know what’s good for you. Divorce him and make way for me.”

The boldness in her tone made my chest tighten.

I held the edge of the dining table and tried to pull myself up. My body protested, but I refused to remain on the floor before her.

“Lauren,” I called, my voice weak as I finally managed to stand halfway, gripping the table for support. “I’ll never divorce Curtis.”

The words came out firm despite my trembling.

“Not divorcing, huh?” she repeated, her expression darkening.

Before I could react, she stepped forward and grabbed me by the neck.

Her fingers were sharp and cold.

She pushed me forward fiercely.

Everything happened too fast.

My body slammed into the coffee table.

The edge hit my stomach directly. A loud scream tore from my throat.

The pain was immediate and unbearable. It felt like something inside me had been ripped apart.

“If you don’t,” Lauren continued, her voice low and venomous, “then die with the bastard you’re pregnant with!”

Her words echoed in my ears.

I clutched the table desperately, trying to hold myself up. But my strength was draining quickly. My legs began to give way.

The pain in my stomach was spreading, deep and terrifying.

I slowly slid down from the table until I hit the floor with a dull thud.

I could barely breathe.

Just then, I heard the sound of the door unlocking.

A click came through the door and Curtis’s voice from outside.

In one swift movement, Lauren let go of me, rushed to the wall, and smashed her own forehead against it.

The sound made me flinch.

She dropped to the floor beside me, gasping dramatically.

The door opened. Curtis entered.

He paused for only a second before rushing toward us.

“Lauren!” he called, dropping beside her. He held her hand immediately.

I was right there beside them on the floor, but his attention was fixed on her.

“Tessa,” Lauren cried weakly, turning her face toward me as tears streamed down her cheeks. “I won’t fight you for Curtis, so please… stop hitting me.”

My eyes widened in disbelief.

I opened my mouth to speak, but the pain in my stomach twisted sharply, stealing my breath.

Without questioning anything, Curtis turned to me.

His face was filled with fury.

“Tessa,” he said between gritted teeth, his voice cold and dangerous. “I wanted you to reflect on yourself. How dare you hurt Lauren?”

“Curtis… she pushed me,” I managed to say, struggling for air.

“Enough!” he shouted. The force of his voice made me flinch.

Behind him, Lauren was smirking at me.

It was small, quick, but I saw it clearly.

“Put away your crafty excuses,” Curtis continued harshly. “I don’t trust you!”

Those words cut deeper than anything else.

He didn’t even look at my stomach. He didn’t see the way I was shaking.

He shoved me aside like I was nothing and turned back to Lauren.

“Curtis,” Lauren called softly, pretending to tremble as she held onto him. “Please don’t blame Tessa. It was my fault. I tripped.”

Her voice shook convincingly.

Curtis wrapped his arm around her and helped her up gently.

The gentleness in his touch broke something inside me.

“Curtis,” I called from the floor.

My voice sounded distant to my own ears.

He didn’t respond.

The pain in my stomach was worsening. It felt like something was tearing from inside.

“Curtis,” I tried again, gasping. “Save me. My stomach hurts.”

Lauren smiled faintly.

“Let’s go,” Curtis said, turning away from me.

He held Lauren carefully as they began to walk toward the door.

They were leaving.

Leaving me on the floor.

The pain intensified.

I felt something warm between my legs. I looked down.

Blood.

It was spreading slowly across the tiles beneath me.

“Curtis,” I called again, my voice breaking as I struggled to breathe.

He turned and froze to the sight of the blood.