All Chapters of Step Daddy's Lakeside Sin : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

(Millie POV)The afternoon felt heavier than it should have. I had spent most of the day moving through the house like a guest, careful not to linger too long in any room Adrianna might enter. The guest room door remained closed. Richard had left for a short meeting and texted once to say he would be back before dinner. The message was simple, almost ordinary, but I still read it twice. The memory of his voice from the night before, the way he had sworn on our child’s life, sat in my chest like something warm and unstable. I wanted to believe him. Part of me already did. And the rest of me kept replaying the image of him standing beside Vivienne outside that building, the easy way they had looked at each other.I was in the kitchen rinsing my mug when the doorbell rang. For a second I considered ignoring it. Then I wiped my hands and walked to the front door. And as soon as I clicked open the door, the figure standing in front of me wasn't who I expected at all.Henry stood on the por

(Millie POV)The house felt smaller every morning.I woke up before the sun with my hand already resting on my lower stomach, the same way I had been doing for weeks. The nausea was quieter today, but the weight of everything else had grown heavier. Twenty-three days left. That was what the calendar in my head kept repeating. Twenty-three days until Adrianna’s deadline ended and whatever came next would no longer be a threat, it would be real. Richard was already awake. I could feel the heat of his body behind me, one arm draped loosely over my waist, his palm spread protectively across the place where our child was growing. For a few seconds I just lay there and listened to him breathe. The night before he had held me like he was afraid I might disappear. This morning the fear was still there, only quieter.“You’re thinking too loud,” he murmured against the back of my neck.“I can’t help it.”He pressed a slow kiss to my shoulder. “Talk to me.”I stared at the wall. “She’s going to

(Millie POV)I didn’t plan to go to Henrietta’s apartment that night.Richard had fallen asleep early, one arm still resting over my waist like he could keep the world out if he just held on tight enough. I had lain there staring at the ceiling for almost an hour, the number twenty-two circling in my head. Twenty-two days left. Adrianna’s lawyer. Vivienne’s silence that somehow felt louder than her threats. And Henry… always Henry, lingering at the edges of everything.When my phone lit up with a message from Henrietta, I almost ignored it.Henrietta:Are you awake? I need to talk. please.Something about the way she wrote please made my stomach tighten. I slipped out of bed as carefully as I could, pulled on a hoodie and leggings, and left Richard a short note on the nightstand. Then I drove across town with my hands too tight on the wheel. Henrietta opened the door before I could knock twice. Her eyes were red. Not freshly crying, but close. She stepped aside without a word and let

(Millie POV)Richard was awake when I opened the bedroom door. The lamp on his side of the bed was on. He was sitting up against the headboard, shirtless, phone in his hand like he had been minutes away from calling me. The second he saw my face, he set the phone down.“What happened? I didn't see you anywhere near the house.”I closed the door behind me and leaned against it for a moment, trying to steady my breathing. The drive home had done nothing to calm the panic sitting under my ribs. Henry’s messages kept replaying. Henrietta’s voice asking ‘who is he?’ kept replaying. The way she had looked at me when I refused to answer kept replaying.“He knows,” I said.Richard’s expression sharpened. “Who?”“Henry. He texted me while I was at Henrietta’s. He knew I was there. He knew she was telling me about the club. And he…” My voice caught. “He knows about the baby, Richard. He referenced the pregnancy like it was obvious. Like he’s been watching me long enough to see it on my body.”F

(Adrianna POV)I placed the folder on the kitchen island with more care than it deserved. The lawyer had given it to me the day before in a cream-colored office that smelled of coffee and expensive paper. Inside were the first drafts; separation documents, temporary arrangements, a clean outline of how the house would remain mine, which was not final. Not yet. But the language was already cold enough to make the air in my own kitchen feel thinner. I had spent most of the morning sitting with it. Reading the same paragraphs until the words stopped meaning anything. Twenty-one days left. That was the number I kept turning over in my mind. Twenty-one days until the deadline I myself had set became something that could no longer be postponed with silence. Footsteps came down the stairs. It was Millie’s first. Then Richard’s a few seconds later. They moved through the house with that careful quiet they had both perfected. The kind of quiet people use when they are trying not to disturb a s