Semua Bab I AGREED TO MY HUSBAND'S OPEN MARRIAGE RULES: Bab 31 - Bab 40

Stacy's POVThe pain was sharp, cutting through me like a knife. I lay on the floor, holding my stomach, tears streaming down my face. Matt stood over me, his eyes cold and unfeeling. He had just kicked me, hard, and now he was looking at me as if I were some kind of animal."Are you pregnant?" his mother's voice cut through the silence, dripping with disgust.I shook my head weakly, my voice barely a whisper. "No... I'm on my period."But no one moved to help me. Instead, they just stared, their eyes full of judgment and disgust."Stand up," Matt's father barked, his voice harsh. "Have some manners, for God's sake. You're a woman, not a child."I forced myself to my feet, every movement sending waves of pain through my body. My heart ached more than my stomach. How could they be so cruel?Matt smirked, clearly enjoying the moment. "See? She's fine. Just being dramatic, like always."I wanted to scream, to lash out, but I knew better. Instead, I bit my lip and turned away, hiding the

Stacy's POVThe first thing I feel is the ache. A deep, hollow throb low in my belly. Then the smell—clean linen, antiseptic, the sterile chill of a hospital room. My eyes flutter open to a white ceiling and the soft hum of machines.Oh, God. The baby.Panic, sharp and cold, claws up my throat. My hand flies to my stomach, pressing against the thin hospital gown. I remember the blood. The carpet. The world going dark.The last thing I saw... Michael. Breaking down the door. His face...He brought me here. He must have. Matt wouldn't. Matt left me locked in that room to bleed out.The thought is a punch to my already raw insides. Tears blur my vision. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to breathe through the pain that isn't just physical.The door opens with a soft sound. A nurse with kind eyes and a gentle smile walks in, holding a chart. "You're awake. Good.""My baby," I rasp, the words scraping my dry throat. "Please... is my baby..."Her smile turns softer, reassuring. "The baby is f

Stacy's POVHe laughed, a low, ugly sound that vibrated through his hand still clamped on my chin. "Joking? You're just joking, right, sweetheart?" He gave my face a little shake. "You're angry. You want me to say I'm sorry. That's all this is."I tried to pull free, but his grip was iron. My wrist ached where he held it.From the doorway, Clara's voice was sweet and poisonous. "Listen to him, Stacy. He's being patient with you. After everything he's given you? This house? That ring?" She stepped into the room, her fitted dress hugging her pregnant curve. She looked at me like I was something she'd scraped off her shoe. "You're nothing without him. And you think you can demand an apology? From the man who provides everything?"Matt's eyes lit up with cruel agreement. "She's right. You hear that? Nothing." He leaned in, his whiskey-breath hot on my cheek. "So take it back. Take back the divorce nonsense. It was a tantrum. We both know it."The fury, cold and clear, washed away the last

Matt's POVThe pain was white-hot fire between my legs, pulsing with every ragged breath. I lay on the floor, curled around the agony, hearing the front door slam. She ran. She actually ran.I forced my eyes open, saw the empty space where she'd just been. My wife. My property. Walking out the door.A raw sound tore from my throat. I tried to push myself up, but the pain shot through me again, sending me back to the cool hardwood with a gasp. I can't even stand. Humiliation burned hotter than the physical hurt. She'd kneed me like I was some drunk in a bar, not her husband. Not the man who owned her.The door creaked open. Clara's hesitant face appeared. "Matt? Oh, God. Are you—""Get out!" I snarled, the words harsh.She flinched, her hand flying to her rounded stomach. A protective gesture. For my heir. "I was just—""I said get out!" I roared, finding the strength to prop myself up on one elbow. The room swam. "Leave me alone!"She vanished, shutting the door softly. Smart girl. Kn

Matt's POVThe hotel lobby was a cathedral of polished marble and my own failure. I stood there, the concierge's polite, empty smile like a slap, and I knew. She was gone. He had her.A red haze blurred the edges of my vision. "Check again," I snarled, leaning over the desk."Sir, I assure you, there is no one under that name—"I didn't hear the rest. I turned, my fists clenched so tight my knuckles ached. My phone was already at my ear. "Davis. Get the team. Now. Surround the block. Check every exit. She didn't just vanish into air."My men moved like ghosts, efficient and silent. But they came back with nothing. Nothing. The hollow panic from the house returned, colder, sharper. I was in the security office ten minutes later, jaw locked, watching grainy black-and-white footage on a monitor.Then I saw it.The timestamp from forty minutes ago. The service elevator opening into the underground garage. Michael Sotheby stepped out, his posture easy, confident. And in his arms, held tig