Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Ella
"I need to show you how to use that therapy device," Vivian said through the car window, her gaze sweeping over me with pure condescension. "Otherwise, taking care of Mr. Rockefeller all by yourself must be exhausting."
She leaned closer. "Being the esteemed Mrs. Rockefeller, yet living like a caregiver..."
I stared at her expression in disbelief. Was that... contempt?
Rage flared in my chest.
I earned my living with my own two hands.
I used professional therapy methods to ease people's suffering.
At the sanatorium, I cared for everyone equally—scientists and artists, people on welfare.
They all showed me the same gratitude. People might have different social standings, but when it came to illness and death, we were all equal.
Yet Vivian's expression screamed disdain. My profession had become her weapon against me.
Did she really think a person's worth came down to money? That spending time helping people in need was beneath her?
What a stupid, laughable class mentality!
A dying billionaire would find more meaning in someone holding his hand than in all those zeros in his bank account.
If Vivian thought this way, what about Lucas? The man who spent every day with her—was he any different?
I watched Lucas stride up the steps with those long legs of his. Three, maybe five meters away. No way he hadn't heard what Vivian said.
But he never looked back.
Which meant he agreed with her. He was just as arrogant.
My stomach twisted like someone had grabbed it.
I thought Lucas had hurt me enough that I'd gone numb. Turns out he could still find new ways to twist the knife.
This morning's paper had plastered their intimate photos across the world.
Then he told me to get in the car. Pregnant, exhausted from walking to the pharmacy, I thought he was actually being kind. Instead, I became an audience member, forced to watch him and Vivian chat endlessly while she pressed her chest against his arm.
All the way back to the manor, Vivian paraded around like she owned the place.
And now he was letting her humiliate me.
Too much! Each time worse than the last!
I wasn't some desperate woman clinging to him. I had divorce papers ready. Just two more days.
Did he think by hurting me like this, I'd still refuse to leave? Did he think I was shamelessly after Mrs. Rockefeller's money and status? Was he trying to force me out so he could give my spot to the woman he loved?
Enough! I was done!
The car descended into the dim garage. Before it even stopped, Vivian whipped around with a sharp, vicious laugh.
"Who are you pouting for?"
"Lucas was kind enough to give you a ride, and you? You're like a goddamn bug. The second you got in, you made everyone miserable."
My stomach clenched.
I'd expected Vivian might have something to say when she kept me behind, but not this. She sounded like a mean bitch, nothing like the queen from last night's party. I froze for several seconds before my tongue worked enough to fight back.
"This is my husband's car!" I had every right to be in it.
"Enough. Let Lucas go. Let yourself go. Stop making everyone miserable!"
Vivian parked and twisted around from the driver's seat to stare at me. "Lucas won't say it to your face out of respect for Mr. Rockefeller, but don't you know how you got that position? You think after Mr. Rockefeller dies, you can keep lounging around the manor like a parasite?"
My mouth opened. My head buzzed—I hadn't expected her to be this vicious, to actually wish for Mr. Rockefeller's death! All my comebacks died on my tongue. I couldn't bring myself to fight with her using the old man's death as ammunition.
"Aren't you afraid Lucas will find out you say this?"
"Lucas?" Vivian tossed her gorgeous red hair, eyes sparkling. "Why would he be mad at me? He loves everything about me. The three days we spent together, he told me he loved me over and over..."
So it was true. They really had been together these three days. Seeing it in the paper versus hearing her admit it were two completely different impacts. The air in the car felt thin. I couldn't breathe.
"Oh, and there's something really interesting." Vivian paused, locking her eyes on mine. "Lucas never answers your calls. Never replies to your texts. Doesn't that hurt?"
The words hit like a sledgehammer. Stars exploded behind my eyes. I heard my own voice, hoarse and unrecognizable. "How... how do you know?"
"You called him dozens of times four days ago! Are you insane?" Vivian's lips curved into a smile. "And those texts you sent—all garbage! Asking what he wanted to eat, when he'd be home, saying grandfather missed him... Why'd you stop? Finally facing reality?"
Her voice grew shriller with each message she recited. My face burned hotter.
"Oh, honey," she waved her hand in front of my face, her tone dripping with pity, "woman to woman, I'm telling you to stop. You know what he said about you after we had sex? When he was lying in bed scrolling through those pathetic texts?"
I covered my ears instinctively, trembling. I didn't want to hear another word, but I could picture it—Lucas holding Vivian in bed, turning my care and attempts to please him into post-coital entertainment.
"Lucas was way harsher than me. You know how cruel he can be when he wants to.
" Vivian's tone softened, like she was savoring a memory.
She shrugged at me. "Just give up. Ask for the divorce yourself.
That way, it won't damage Mr. Rockefeller and Lucas's relationship.
Knowing Lucas, he'll give you a generous settlement. "
Tears threatened to spill, but I forced them back. I could cry in front of anyone except Vivian. I wouldn't give her another story to share with Lucas, another joke for them to laugh about.
Though I'd already become a joke...
Honestly, even if Vivian had shown me photos of her and Lucas in bed, I wouldn't feel this humiliated.
At least that would prove Lucas wronged me.
This was different. I'd offered my love to him on a platter, and he'd turned around and ground it into the mud just to entertain the woman he'd just fucked.
This kind of mental torture—I absolutely could not take it.
And right now, one of the architects of this torture was watching my breakdown with superior eyes.
I suddenly hated them both. They could have just thrown divorce papers in my face. Instead, they chose this vicious way to humiliate me.
"Even if Lucas and I divorce, he'll never marry you." I ground my back teeth together, forcing out each word. "He's known you this long. If he really wanted to marry you, I wouldn't be here."
Vivian's expression changed instantly.
The truth always hits hardest.
"So what? I can still make Lucas come back to me again and again!
" She snapped, her voice turning hysterical.
"He loves it when I blow him. He says only my mouth can make him explode!
In the two years we've worked together, we've fucked everywhere you can imagine.
.. We're inseparable. We'll never forget each other.
You think a piece of paper can change that? "
"Stop! Don't say another word!" I suddenly thought of my wedding night with Lucas. If every skilled move he made came from practice with Vivian, it made me sick.
Vivian didn't listen. Lost in her own world, she kept going: "Lucas doesn't like condoms. You know that, right? He likes it when I'm on top. He likes fucking me from behind because that way he can watch every detail of us screwing..."
"Enough!"
I let out a hysterical scream. Stomach acid surged up my throat. I was about to vomit right there.
Vivian didn't stop. She stared at me, eyes full of disgust. "Forget Lucas doesn't love you. Ask yourself, what normal man with any taste would want a woman who spends every day wiping down dying old men, who reeks of that smell you can never wash off?"
My brain went completely blank.
Vivian wanted to steal Lucas? Fine. She could have that cheating addict. But I would not tolerate her insulting my profession. It was my expertise, my only proof in this suffocating manor that I had value.
"You shameless bitch!" My voice echoed in the car, deafening. "I don't care what you and Lucas had before, but right now, I'm Mrs. Rockefeller! As long as I'm his wife, you're just a rat hiding in dark corners! You'll never be legitimate!"
Vivian's triumphant expression crumbled.
I'd hit her where it hurt most. Her whole face twisted. Then she jumped out of the car—slammed the door, hit the lock. Like she'd rehearsed it a thousand times.
Click. All the locks engaged with a crisp sound.
I realized too late what was happening. Dizzy and nauseous, I grabbed for the door handle. It wouldn't budge.
"Sit there and think about what you've done!" She looked at me like I was a rat, then walked away.
"Open the door!" I pounded on the window, but this bulletproof custom luxury car had soundproofing that made me want to scream. I could yell myself hoarse. No one outside would hear.
I watched Vivian sprint toward the elevator. Damn it! She was definitely going to tattle to Lucas.
Lucas—the man who was my husband in name only. I couldn't even call him for help. He wouldn't answer.
Two years. Always the same. He ignored me when I hadn't done anything wrong. Now that I'd cursed out the woman he loved, I wasn't even sure he wouldn't get violent.
My stomach churned until I thought I'd throw up.
Just when despair nearly drove me insane, click, the locks released. I looked up in shock. At the far end by the elevator, Vivian was waving the car keys at me triumphantly, like a trophy.
I suspected a trap, but I shoved the door open anyway. Whatever happened, I couldn't gamble with my safety. Especially not when pregnant.
I ran forward a few steps. The elevator doors slid shut in front of me. Vivian stood in the bright elevator car, wearing a victor's smile.
What was she planning?
I didn't know. But I wouldn't just sit and wait. The elevator display showed the second floor. I spun toward the stairs and ran like hell. My heart felt like it would burst from my chest. My stomach roiled.
Things had gone too far. My relationship with Lucas was beyond repair—I knew that, of course I did. But I couldn't accept it!
I'd done nothing to wrong him. I'd worked so hard at this unequal marriage.
For him, I'd given up the caregiving work I loved, left my beloved sister Maya.
I'd given this love everything I had, but I still didn't meet his standards for a wife.
.. Fine. He didn't love me. I didn't blame him.
He wanted to marry someone else. I had divorce papers ready.
But I absolutely would not let Vivian, the woman who destroyed my marriage, go to him and trash me! If I was going to lose this marriage, at least let me say my piece first!
On the third-floor landing, I heard Vivian crying. I remembered Lucas saying he had a conference call. The closer I got to the study, the clearer the crying became.
I shoved the study door open.
The whole world stopped.
Lucas and Vivian were locked in an embrace.