Chapter 28
Leaning against the railing with my iced coffee, I felt the presence before I saw it.
A figure slid in beside me, and I froze mid-sip.
My brow arched as I glanced sideways. A scoff slipped from my lips, tongue clicking in annoyance, before I scanned the crowd and finally fixed my gaze on the woman at my side.
"You've been following me for a while now, huh?" I drawled, taking a slow sip before turning toward her, elbow resting lazily on the railing.
Margot chuckled, narrowing her eyes as though dissecting me piece by piece. "I don't understand why Sloane couldn't move on from you," she sneered. "She actually married you, despite you abandoning her back then?" The bitterness in her laugh wasn't even masked.
I hummed, a smile curving at my lips as I leaned closer.
"You should really stop meddling in Sloane's choices.
She married me—her ex, yes—but what does that have to do with you?
Nothing. So why keep shoving your nose where it doesn't belong?
" A laugh, sharp and dismissive, escaped me as I shook my head.
Her jaw tightened. "You don't deserve her."
"And you do?
" I arched a brow, sighing. "Listen, I get it.
You're attracted to my wife. But Sloane's made it clear—you're like a sister to her.
So why keep circling her like a moth to flame?
" I lifted a finger as she opened her mouth, silencing her before taking another sip of coffee.
"And yes—you're right.
I don't deserve someone like Sloane. She's too pure to be tainted, too good for this world.
That's why I'm doing everything I can to be the wife she deserves.
" My smile sharpened as I tilted my head at her.
"Does it bruise your ego, Margot, watching the woman you crave stand beside someone else?
Worse—someone who looks exactly like you? "
Margot scoffed, rolling her eyes.
"Do you even know why Sloane insisted on marrying you?
I mean, sure—you might have her body. But how certain are you that she still loves you the way you think she does?
For all I know, Sloane isn't the same woman you tossed aside like garbage a decade ago, Aurora. "
I laughed, the sound low and sharp, finishing off the last of my coffee before tossing the cup into the bin. Stepping closer, I let my gaze linger on her. "Margot, do me a favor, will you?"
I brushed invisible dust from her shoulder, smiling as though I pitied her. "Stay out of my lane, and maybe I'll be nice to you. Stay out of my wife's choices, because, truth be told, this never involved you in the first place."
As I started to walk away, my steps faltered when she caught my wrist.
"I love Sloane," Margot said, her grip tightening.
"Leave her. Divorce her if you can. You know this marriage of yours is already crumbling—you're the one who broke her.
Why pretend otherwise? Even if you try to fix it, it'll only fall apart.
So step aside, and give her to me. I can give her more than you ever will; I can give her more than you ever could. I can be the better option."
Shoving her hand off my wrist, I seize her collar and yank her closer. Eyes are beginning to turn toward us, but I don't care. My teeth grind, my voice dropping low.
"An option, you say?
" I let out a dry chuckle. "Margot, are you really treating Sloane like some player with a lineup of choices?
Get this straight—" my gaze burns into hers, "—even if my marriage with Sloane isn't perfect, you can't deny the truth: from the very beginning, she never laid her eyes on anyone else but me. Not you. Not anyone. It's been me."
I leaned closer, lips curling into a cold smirk. "Maybe marrying your ex isn't the wisest choice she's ever made—but it was hers. Her choice. Not yours. So, who the hell are you to tell me to let her go?"
My grip tightened before I shoved her back. "Here's the truth: I'll only divorce Sloane if she asks me to. Not you. Now, if you're so confident, go ahead—ask her yourself. But by the looks of it, we're getting along just fine."
"Have a lovely day, Margot," I said, giving a subtle nod before turning my back and walking toward the parking spot where I'd left my car.
Just who do you think you are, Margot? I reminded myself. You're just a business partner to Sloane—nothing more. You're not going to take my place as her wife. From the very first moment, she's mine. She always has been.
Sliding into the driver's seat, I let out a long sigh, trying to steady my racing thoughts. I started the ignition, buckled my seatbelt, and drove back to the office. The distance was short, but it felt like an hour as my mind replayed Margot's words.
I shouldn't let her get to me. Sloane is married to me. We're doing fine. No fights, no yelling—just us, enjoying each other's company.
Pulling into my reserved spot, I cut the engine and unbuckled my seatbelt.
I cupped my cheeks, patting them lightly.
"It's fine. Everything's fine. Don't overthink her words," I whispered to myself, forcing a small smile.
"Besides... isn't our first anniversary the day after tomorrow? "
Heat rose to my cheeks at the thought—a whole year with Sloane.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, clutching my face as I stepped out of the car.
"Everything's perfect. We'll celebrate together, and our relationship is exactly where it should be," I reassured myself, heading into the building lobby.
Inside the elevator, my heart thrummed with anticipation. Our anniversary. The gift is ready, everything is settled... and soon, it will be just the two of us.
A chime from the elevator echoed as the doors slid open on my office floor. I stepped out, heading straight for my office, but Celeste was already waiting.
I turned to her. "Celeste," I greeted.
"Ms. Aurora," she said with a subtle bow, extending her hand with a sealed document. "This arrived at the concierge while you were out. Seems confidential, judging by the label," she added.
My brow furrowed as I took the document. "I'll handle this myself. Thank you," I replied, unlocking my office door.
Inside, I walked straight to my desk and tossed the envelope onto its surface. Pulling out my chair, I sank down and carefully broke the seal. My grip faltered as I began flipping through the pages. "What...?"
Page after page revealed figures, names, and transactions. A bitter laugh escaped me. "This is..." My throat tightened, and I swallowed hard. "All of this... it accounts for every missing cent that was embezzled from the company."
I froze on the last page, disbelief rooting me to my chair.
The document trembled in my hands as I wiped my face, staring at the numbers and names etched across the page.
"Why...?" I whispered, lips parting as laughter slipped out, raw and disbelieving.
My vision blurred as I buried my face in my hands. "All this time... it was you?"
?·???°???°???·?
Looking at the bungalow mansion in front of me, my chest tightened.
I let out a bitter chuckle as my eyes fell on the documents on the passenger seat.
I'd been struggling for weeks, trying to figure out why I had lost so much money in such a short span, pouring over every account until my health began to fray—and now this. Finally, the truth stared back at me.
Shaking my head, I unbuckled my seatbelt and grabbed the documents, slamming the car door behind me. I strode into the mansion; the housekeepers greeted me politely. I barely glanced at them. "Where's your Ms. Sloane?" I asked.
"She's not home yet, Madame," one replied.
I nodded curtly, excusing myself, and made my way down the hallway. "Out of all the betrayals you could've committed, Sol... why? Why embezzle the funds of my company?" A bitter laugh escaped me as I stopped in front of her study.
My fist clenched as I hesitated. Taking a deep breath, I pulled out the access card and scanned it. A soft beep, a click from inside—and the door swung open. I twisted the knob and stepped in, the door clicking shut behind me.
The study was pristine.
Too pristine. Not a single page out of place, no stray folders, no sign of the trail I came for.
"Where is it?" I whispered, scanning the shelves and folders, brushing my fingers over the smooth leather spines of law journals and financial reports, finding nothing.
"What the hell? Is this even true?" I muttered, frustration threading through my voice. My gaze flicked to the documents Celeste had handed me. "If Sol hid these, she didn't leave them anywhere obvious." I scoffed, looking around the immaculate room.
"Gosh, this is frustrating," I hissed, clutching the documents as I stepped out of Sloane's study. The door clicked shut behind me, and my gaze immediately landed on the nursery down the hall.
Blinking, I rushed toward it, unlocking the door. The pale ivory walls, the quiet stillness of the room—something about it pulled me in. I remembered designing this space with Sloane, carefully planning where every detail should go.
The scent of lavender and faint powder lingered in the air. Soft curtains filtered the late afternoon sun. My chest tightened as my eyes fell on the crib—empty, untouched.
I scanned the room until my attention drifted to the dresser. Swallowing hard, I took slow, deliberate steps toward it. I set the documents down on the console table and opened the first drawer. Inside were neatly folded muslin blankets, still crisp and unused.
Just as I was about to close it, something caught my eye—a corner of a folder peeking out beneath the blankets. My hand trembled as I pulled it free. I opened it to reveal neat pages clipped together: contracts, wire transfer receipts, signed agreements.
"What..." My breath hitched as I scanned the names and signatures: Marcello Bianchi. Sloane Duvall. Amounts transferred offshore.
I nearly stumbled, jaw clenching. "This is the embezzlement trail," I whispered. The proof of everything.
Flipping through it rapidly, my heart pounded, my head throbbing. Then I noticed another folder, thinner, tucked beneath the others as if hidden in plain sight. I pulled it out, expecting more financial records—but what I found made me step back.
The folder related to the embezzlement slipped from my hands, pages scattering across the floor.
"No..." I whispered, my voice barely audible.
Among the papers was an old ultrasound printout, its edges yellowed with age. A tiny outline, blurred yet unmistakable, floated in grayscale on the page.
"She..." A gasp escaped me as my eyes caught the date in the corner. Twelve years ago.
My fingers brushed against the patient's name. Sloane Duvall.
My body froze. The room tilted around me, my head pounding as if it would explode. Silence pressed heavily against my ears. Sloane... pregnant.
I bit my lip hard, tasting iron. My fingertips hovered over the ultrasound again, trembling.
Before I could steady myself, a sharp movement ripped the paper from my grasp. I looked up. Sloane stood in front of me, clutching the ultrasound to her chest, eyes wide and wild.
"What the hell are you doing in here?"
A knot formed in my throat.
My finger shook as I pointed at the paper she held.
"That..." I whispered. "That's our child.
" I gestured toward the scattered documents on the dresser and floor.
"And this..." My laugh was bitter, blurred by tears.
"Sol... you—" My voice cracked as I wiped my face harshly.
"The embezzlement, the shell accounts... everything. You're the reason?"
Her lips parted, her eyes locking onto mine.
"Sol!" I hissed, tears brimming.
"Lies stacked on lies! You manipulated my company's bankruptcy?
You planned everything! You forced me to sign those clauses, forced me to marry you!
You controlled everything?!" I pointed at her, voice raw.
"Was any of it real, Sloane? Or was everything we had just part of your goddamn game? "
Her hands shook as she pressed the ultrasound tighter to her chest. Her pale face glistened with sudden tears.
"You don't get to stand there and play the victim, Aurora.
It's your fault! Marcello Bianchi siphoned your company's funds, and all I did was leverage it against him.
That's how he embezzled everything!" Her voice rose, trembling with anger.
"Besides... you walked away when I needed you most. Do you even know what that did to me? !"
I laughed, broken and bitter.
"I left because I had my reasons! How many times do I have to tell you that, Sol?
!" My voice cracked. "I thought I was protecting you, not leaving you to crawl into bed with schemes and—" I pointed at the folders on the floor, voice trembling.
"God, this! I've been chasing clues, working my ass off to find the mastermind behind the embezzlement, thinking someone in my company was colluding with Monsieur Bianchi.
And turns out... it was my wife all along. "
Her voice rose, sharp and wounded. "Protecting me? You call abandoning me in the middle of hell protecting me? Do you know what it's like to bleed out alone, Aurora? You left me while I was carrying our children! You left me to rot while I fought for both of us!"
My body froze as her words slammed into me. "Children...?" I echoed, my throat tight. "There were two? Where are they? Why didn't you tell me?" I stepped closer, but she retreated.
"Sol! Why didn't you tell me? Those are my children too! Where are they?!"
Her jaw quivered, rage flickering through her tears.
"Yes, they were twins!" she hissed. "They died because you weren't there!
Because you chose to vanish instead of holding the family we were supposed to have together!
You don't get to blame me for doing what I had to survive! "
"What?" I clutched my chest, my breath hitching. "Died? Death?"
Her laughter was hollow, sharp against the ache in my chest. She glared at me, face streaked with tears.
"It's your fault I lost them. All of it.
Every bit of suffering, every sleepless night, every betrayal—it's your fault!
I fought tooth and nail to survive, to get my revenge on you. .. and it's all because of you!"
I shook my head violently, tears stinging my eyes.
"No. No, Sol! Don't you dare put that on me!
I bled for this life, for this love, and you—" My words choked me, sobs tearing me apart.
"—you turned our home into a crime scene, into a mausoleum of secrets.
You've destroyed everything, Sloane. Everything! "
She stepped forward, trembling with fury.
"Destroyed it? You left me with nothing but ashes, Aurora!
Shall I remind you? Sure, you may have given me a cheque—for what, for my service?
And—" she raised a shaking finger at me, voice cutting.
"Don't pretend you're innocent. You don't know the weight I carried—every lie, every goddamn choice I made—it was to survive! "
Her hand shoved me hard, nearly making me stumble back.
"You hurt me by not knowing I was carrying your future heirs!
You left me, never knowing I could give you what you've always wanted.
I planned everything—delivering our children safely, juggling my master's studies, three jobs—and yet, you, out of all people, would dare lay a hand on me while I was pregnant?
! You're the one who killed our children! Our children!"
My brow furrowed, eyes narrowing.
"What the hell are you talking about?" I hissed.
I hadn't touched her after we broke up. How could she blame me for the loss of the kids?
My chest tightened as I swallowed hard. "Why are you blaming me for everything?
It was your choice to chase after me! You're the one who wanted to marry me—for what?
For revenge? Sloane, are you even thinking straight?
Manipulating everything I have just to get me back?
Is this some twisted show? All to make me taste my own medicine for leaving you twelve years ago? I didn't even know I got you pregnant!"
"Of course you wouldn't!" she yelled, tears flashing in her eyes.
"Remember when you said you were going out of the country to visit your mother alone?
Right before your flight... what did you do?
You fucked me! And then, when you came back.
.. what? You left me. Broke up with me. Said you were done playing around, said you only used me.
I was about to tell you I was pregnant!"
My body froze. "But you didn't."
"Why?" Sloane chuckled, a red flush on her face, clutching the ultrasound against her chest. "What's the need for you to know, Ro? Would you have stayed? Would you not have left me if I told you?"
I nodded, my throat tight. "I would."
She laughed then, shaking her head bitterly.
"Too late." She stepped back, sobs shaking her frame.
"You left me with a broken heart. You left me with broken hope.
You left me... and you killed the children that were supposed to be proof of my love for you.
" Her sobs tore through me, leaving a raw ache in my chest.
I didn't know. I didn't know she was pregnant. I didn't know—and yet, I hurt her. My hands flew to my head, shaking. The walls of the nursery seemed to close in, suffocating me.
"I can't—" My voice came out strangled. "I can't process this. Not all of it. Not now. I can't."
"Ro, wait," Sloane pleaded, reaching out, her tears streaming freely. "Please... just listen to me. Please, let me explain—"
I stepped back, my gaze sharp. "Explain? How do you explain this?" I swept my hand at the ultrasound, the scattered folders, the room that could've been our child's. "How do you explain loving me while planning to ruin me at the same time, huh, Sol?"
"Because I loved you so much it killed me!" she protested, her voice raw. "And when you left, I didn't know how else to survive!"
I locked eyes with hers, faintly smiling despite the storm inside me. I stayed silent, unable to shout, unable to feel. My body stiff, my breathing unsteady. I looked at Sloane one last time and turned away.
Her voice called after me, sobbing, pleading—but I didn't move back. Just like twelve years ago, I walked away. The door slammed behind me, echoing like a gunshot through the empty halls. I could hear her cries through the walls, but I couldn't stop.
"She's been pregnant... and lost our child..." I laughed bitterly, slapping my face. "It's my fault. It's my fault. She shouldn't have gone through it alone."
I sobbed, covering my mouth, and stepped out of the house, leaving everything behind.