Chapter 2 Two

"Eve was never pregnant." The words poured out of the phone, cold and cruel.

Eve's fingers froze on the screen.

"The baby was the only reason I agreed to marry her," Lucas's voice went on. "Mother forced me. But I found out later that Eve lied about the whole thing. She faked it to get a ring on her finger."

"I knew it." Freya's soft, smug voice slid out of the speaker. "I knew she was up to no good. But it's okay, my love. Everything will be fine now that I'm back."

Eve sat frozen on the edge of the bed. Her blood had turned to ice.

Lied? He thinks I lied about being pregnant?

Her breath came in short, painful gasps as the memory she had buried for two years tore itself open.

[FLASHBACK]

It had been a quiet Tuesday afternoon. She was twelve weeks along and bursting with hope. She had been carrying a tray of tea down the grand staircase when something caught her foot.

She never saw what it was. One second she was standing. The next, the world tilted, and she was falling, falling, and the marble floor rose up to meet her.

Then pain. Sharp, tearing, endless pain.

She had known before the doctor said a word. She had felt the life inside her slip away.

And Lucas?

She remembered his face in that hospital room. When the doctor said the words I'm so sorry, something in his eyes had died. But it wasn't grief that replaced it.

It was rage.

He had stormed out without touching her hand. For weeks, he hadn't visited. He hadn't called. He had let her bury her child alone, in an empty room, in an empty bed. When he finally came home, he looked at her like a stranger. Like an enemy.

She had told herself he was hurting. That grief made people cold.

She had been wrong.

[END OF FLASHBACK]

Eve came back to the present with a sob.

He thinks I made it up. He thinks I never lost our baby at all.

"I can't," she whispered. "I can't listen to this anymore."

She hit the button, and the voices vanished. Silence crashed down on the room.

"Ma'am?" Gloria hurried over and knelt beside her. "Please, calm down. There must be a mistake somewhere. Mr. Hartwell wouldn't..."

"Thank you, Gloria." Eve forced her voice steady. "Please leave me alone."

"But Ma'am..."

"Please."

The maid hesitated, her eyes full of pity, and then quietly left the room.

The door clicked shut.

And for the first time in three years of marriage, Eve Hartley stopped being strong.

She curled over her knees and wept. Great, shaking sobs that tore up from the deepest part of her chest. Her heart burned like fire. Every breath felt like swallowing glass.

She cried for the baby she had lost. She cried for the baby she was carrying now. She cried for every night she had waited at that table, hoping a man who didn't love her would walk through the door.

She didn't know how long it lasted. An hour. Two.

When the tears finally ran dry, she lifted her head.

The room looked different. Clearer. Colder.

I can't make this marriage work. The thought was calm and quiet and certain. Not when he sees me as a liar. Not when his heart still belongs to her.

She walked to the bedside table and picked up the divorce agreement. She hadn't opened it once since Lucas had thrown it at her. She had been too afraid, clinging to some foolish hope.

Now she read every line.

Her eyes stopped on one clause. In exchange for signing, the Wife will receive a settlement of ten million dollars.

A broken laugh escaped her lips.

"Ten million," she murmured. "He thinks that's what I wanted."

He thought three years of love had a price tag. He believed she had married him for his money.

She looked at the bottom of the page. His signature sat there, sharp and tidy and emotionless. He had signed away their marriage like it was another business contract.

I won't take a cent, she decided. Ten million can't replace the pain. It can't mend what he broke.

Her hand drifted to her stomach, and her eyes softened.

And I'm glad he doesn't know about you, she told the tiny life beneath her palm. He doesn't deserve to. You're mine now. Only mine.

She picked up the pen.

Her hand shook so badly that the first stroke came out crooked. She took a breath and tried again. Eve Hartley.

It was done.

She stared at her signature for a long time. It looked so small. So final.

She thought of the day she had said I do. Of how she had believed, with all her naive heart, that love would grow in time. Of the nights she had stayed up learning his favorite dishes.

That hope had died long before he ever mentioned divorce.

She placed the document in the middle of the bed. Then she slid the wedding ring off her finger, the ring she had sworn she would never remove, and set it on top.

The diamond caught the light for one last second.

Then she turned away.

---

She cleaned the entire mansion that evening.

It made no sense, and she knew it. But she couldn't stop. She wiped every counter and polished every table, as if she could scrub away the years she had spent trying to turn his house into a home.

"Ma'am, please, let me help you," Gloria begged, watching her scrub the kitchen floor on her hands and knees.

"It's okay." Eve smiled faintly. "I need to do this myself."

She took down every painting she had hung. Every photograph she had framed. Every flower arrangement she had arranged with her own hands. She wanted nothing of herself left in this place.

It was a relief that Brielle was out. No sneers. No poison. Just silence.

Upstairs, she pulled out her old suitcase from the back of the closet. She packed only what she had brought with her three years ago. A few plain dresses. A worn coat. A small photo of her late parents. A handful of books.

Everything else, the designer clothes, the jewelry, the gifts, she left where they were.

They had never been hers.

At last, she zipped the suitcase and straightened up. The room was bare now, stripped down to its bones, just like her heart.

She looked around one final time.

Then she carried her bag downstairs.

At the front door, her feet stopped.

This is your last chance. A small voice whispered in her mind. You could wait. You could tell him tonight, right here, about the baby...

And he'll call it another lie.

Her hand closed around the doorknob.

She stepped out into the night, and the cold air slapped her face like a reminder that the world was still turning.

She closed the door softly. But inside her chest, it sounded like thunder.

The driveway felt miles long. She walked it slowly, each step heavier than the one before. The mansion stood behind her, tall and silent and glowing with light.

At the iron gate, she stopped and looked back.

It had seemed so huge when she first arrived. A palace. Now it just looked like a big, empty house.

It was never my home, she thought. It was only ever his.

Tears slid down her cheeks, but she lifted her chin.

I'm leaving with nothing. But I'm not leaving alone.

She laid her palm against her stomach one more time, and her voice came out as a whisper, steady and fierce.

"I'll live for you. I promise. I'll take you far away from here, somewhere he can never hurt us. And I will raise you with so much love that you'll never feel a single second of this pain."

She turned her back on the mansion.

And Eve Hartley walked into the dark, not knowing where she was going, only knowing that anywhere was better than the place where her heart had been broken again and again.