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967982492283499

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The pregnancy test showed two lines, my husband's penthouse smelled like another woman's perfume, and when I called to tell him we were having a baby, his secretary answered — moaning his name. I stood frozen in the bathroom of the apartment Dominic Ashford had bought me as a "wedding gift" — a gilded cage on the 40th floor where I'd spent three years playing the role of his invisible wife. The test trembled in my hand. Two pink lines. Undeniable. My phone was already dialing before my brain caught up. One ring. Two. Three. Then a click — and the sound that destroyed me. A woman's breathless gasp. Dominic's low groan. Then laughter, intimate and lazy, like they had all the time in the world. "Dominic?" My voice came out strangled. A pause. Rustling sheets. Then his voice, cold and irritated, as if I'd interrupted something far more important than our marriage. "Serena. What do you want now?" Serena. Not babe. Not sweetheart. Just my name, spoken like a task he'd forgotten to cross off his list. "I — I need to tell you something. It's important. Can you come home tonight? Please —" "I'm in a meeting." A meeting. At eleven p.m. With moaning in the background. "Dominic, I heard —" "You heard nothing. Stop being paranoid. I told you, the Kessler deal is closing this week. I don't have time for your anxiety spirals." The line went dead. I stared at the phone, my reflection ghosting across the dark screen — hollow cheeks, shadows under my eyes, the face of a woman who had been shrinking herself for three years to fit inside a marriage that was never real. Then a text lit up the screen. Not from Dominic. From her. Victoria Kessler — heiress, supermodel, the woman every tabloid had linked to my husband for months while I smiled and denied it at charity galas. The message wasn't meant for me. It was a screenshot, forwarded by accident — or maybe on purpose. Victoria: Come back to bed. Your wife can wait. She always does. 😘 Dominic: She's not a wife. She's a contract. You know that. Victoria: Then end it already. I'm tired of hiding. Dominic: Soon. Once the merger with her father's company is finalized, I won't need her anymore. She'll get nothing. My knees hit the cold marble floor. Three years. Three years of canceled dinners, empty beds, and his voice in my ear saying "Be patient, Serena. I'm building our future." There was no our. There never had been. I pressed my hand against my stomach — flat, unchanged, hiding the secret that would have meant everything to the woman I was five minutes ago. Now it meant something else entirely. It meant I had to run. I had seventy-two hours before the merger closed, before Dominic locked down every asset, every account, every exit. Seventy-two hours before I became truly trapped. I pulled up a new contact — a name I hadn't used in years. Serena: Nana, I need your lawyer. The one who handles divorces for women with nothing. The reply came instantly, as if she'd been waiting. Nana: I knew this day would come. Come home, sweetheart. And bring everything. I looked at the pregnancy test one last time, then slipped it into my pocket. Dominic Ashford thought I was a contract — something disposable, something quiet. He was about to find out how wrong he was.

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axisnovel.com

💖😍one click to continue reading👉

💖😍one click to continue reading👉