Chapter 3: The Truth He Tried to Hide

“Tell me what you know about Victoria’s baby, Adrian, because I refuse to spend another night in this marriage while you protect everyone except me.”

My husband’s phone was still pressed against his ear, and the moment Victoria heard my voice, she stopped speaking.

Then Adrian ended the call without saying goodbye.

“Go upstairs, Elena,” he ordered, slipping his phone into his pocket.

I remained beside the dining table, staring at the wedding ring he had removed minutes earlier. “Not until you explain what she meant when she said I must never discover who the child’s father is.”

His expression became unreadable. “Victoria is upset, and you heard a conversation without understanding the circumstances.”

“Then help me understand them.”

“Not everything concerns you.”

I looked at him, wondering how a man who had shared my bed for three years could make me feel like a stranger in my own home.

“I’m carrying your child,” I reminded him. “If Victoria’s situation can affect our baby, then it concerns me.”

Something flickered across his face at the word our, but it disappeared before I could understand it.

“Tomorrow, we will visit the hospital,” he said. “Until then, I don’t want you making accusations or contacting Victoria.”

“And if I refuse?”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Don’t force me to choose between you and her.”

The words settled between us, leaving no room for misunderstanding.

Even now, with his own child growing inside me, he was prepared to choose another woman.

I picked up my handbag and walked past him, determined not to let him see how deeply he had wounded me. I had barely reached the staircase when his phone rang again.

This time, he answered immediately.

“Have you found out who sent the photograph?” he asked.

I stopped.

A man’s voice replied through the phone, too faint for me to understand everything, but one sentence reached me clearly.

“We checked the hospital records, sir. The child Victoria claimed was lost was never registered under her name.”

Adrian glanced toward the staircase.

I quickly moved into the shadows, my heart pounding as I tried to understand what I had heard.

A child Victoria claimed was lost?

Why would she lie about losing a child, and why was Adrian investigating it secretly?

I continued upstairs before he could catch me listening again, but the questions followed me into our bedroom.

For the first time since my wedding, I locked the door between us.

I sat on the edge of the bed and opened the anonymous messages, hoping to find something I had overlooked. The photograph was still there, showing Adrian beside Victoria outside the private clinic.

Beneath it, I noticed a small detail I had missed earlier.

Victoria was holding a medical envelope, and the date printed in the corner was almost nine months old.

My fingers trembled as I enlarged the image.

Nine months.

I counted backward, trying to remember what had happened around that time. Adrian had suddenly begun visiting Victoria more often, claiming that she was struggling with a personal crisis. He had cancelled a business trip with me, withdrawn money from a joint account, and spent several nights away from home.

When I asked questions, he accused me of being insecure.

I had apologized to him.

The realization made my stomach twist.

My phone vibrated again.

This time, the message contained no photograph, only a sentence.

If you want to know why Adrian married you, search for the name Daniel Hayes.

I stared at the name.

Daniel Hayes was my father.

He had died when I was seventeen, leaving behind debts that my mother struggled for years to repay. I had never told Adrian much about him because my husband rarely showed interest in my childhood.

Why would his name be connected to Victoria’s secret?

Before I could reply, the bedroom door handle moved.

“Elena, open the door.”

Adrian’s voice sounded controlled, but I could hear the impatience beneath it.

I slipped my phone beneath the pillow and unlocked the door.

He entered, carrying a glass of water and a small packet of vitamins. For a moment, the familiar sight confused me. These were the first things he had brought me since learning about the pregnancy.

“Take these,” he said, placing them on the bedside table.

I looked at the packet. “You bought pregnancy vitamins?”

“The doctor recommended them to someone I know.”

Someone he knew.

Not his wife. Not the mother of his child.

I picked up the packet, trying to hide my disappointment. “Thank you.”

Adrian watched me for a moment before reaching for my hand. His fingers were warm against mine, and the unexpected touch brought back every reason I had fallen in love with him.

“Listen to me,” he said, his voice softer than before. “Whatever happens tomorrow, you must trust me.”

I searched his face, desperately wanting to believe that there was still something worth saving between us.

“Can you promise me one thing first?”

“What?”

“Tell me whether Victoria has a child.”

His hand tightened around mine.

Then his phone lit up on the bedside table.

A message appeared on the screen, and although Adrian tried to turn it over, I had already read the first line.

The DNA results are ready. The child is yours.

I pulled my hand away.

Adrian stood motionless, his face drained of color, while the silence between us grew heavier than any argument we had ever had.

I was carrying his child, yet another woman might already have given him one.

And the worst part was that he had never told me.