39. CHAPTER 36 #3
Was it all a lie? Every touch, every whispered ma déraison, every look of unhinged vulnerability? Was he just manipulating me to ensure I wouldn't fight him when the time came?
Was the tenderness just another means of satisfying whatever need had driven him into my bed in the first place, and had I stupidly mistaken it for something more?
I had given him everything. My body, my firsts, my trust, and he had been counting the days until he could use them to bury my family.
Oh God, I was a fool to think I was now his home, when in truth I was nothing but a shiny new acquisition. One, he could discard once he got what he wanted.
The next morning, I stood under the shower until the water turned from scalding to lukewarm. I scrubbed my skin until it was raw, wanting to erase the feeling of his hands, his scent, and the heavy, suffocating distance of the last three weeks. It didn’t work.
I’d just wrapped myself in a robe when there was a knock.
“Come in,” I called, my voice sounding brittle, and croaked from sleeplessness and endless crying.
Mrs Lewis stepped inside, balancing a medium-sized bag and a smaller box. She smiled, warm and motherly like always. “Good morning, Madame Kade. Monsieur asked me to bring these up to you.”
My stomach dipped. “He’s back?”
“Yes,” she said. “He arrived thirty minutes ago. He’s in his study now.”
Of course he was in his study. Not knocking on my door asking to talk or check to see if I’d survived the mess he’d left behind.
I looked at Mrs. Lewis, a lump forming in my throat.
I wanted to scream at her, and ask if my menstrual cycle had somehow become part of the household briefing given to my husband.
But I looked at the kindness in her eyes—the woman who had known him since he was a boy—and I realized she was just another part of the Kade machinery.
She didn't see a betrayal, she saw it as an order being followed.
“Thank you, Mrs. Lewis,” I forced out, feigning a smile.
“Are you alright chérie?” she asked, moving closer to feel my skin with the back of her hand.
“I’m fine Mrs. Lewis,” I replied, trying not to retreat
“If you’d like some tea, I can have Isabella—”
“Tea would be fine,” I cut in quick before she made further suggestions, widening the smile plastered on my face.
She stepped back and set the things on the table. “There are some self-care items, I believe. Monsieur Kade said you’ve been working very hard and might appreciate them.”
I nodded once, then watched her leave. The room felt lonelier after she left. I ignored it, walked over and opened the larger bag first.
Bath oils and washes—the same one he’d put in my bath water that night. A new silk robe, the color of crushed pearls. My favorite chocolates. Scented candles from a brand I liked.
It was a masterclass in manipulation. It was his way of saying I am always there, even when I am gone. I am in your head. I know your desires. It would have been so easy to melt, to forgive him for everything.
Then I opened the smaller box.
It wasn't a piece of jewelry, or a souvenir from Singapore.
Pregnancy tests. A dozen of them. Neatly arranged by brand, from the digital ones to the high-sensitivity strips. They sat there on the velvet like fancy surgical tools.
Everything tilted, forcing me to hold on to the wall.
I braced myself and stared at them. Laurent’s voice hissed in my ear. He needs a legacy. You’re a chess move. A womb with a prestigious lineage.
Heat rushed through me, carrying a volatile mix of rage and humiliation that churned my stomach.
So this was it, then.
He disappeared for three weeks after taking my virginity, lets his mother parade a future mistress in front of the world, and came back bearing… spa gifts and a practical reminder that my womb was nothing more than a means to an end
A silk robe, some chocolate, and a subtle “have you peed on a stick yet?”
It would have almost been funny if it didn’t make my insides splinter.
He was checking the status of his acquisition.
I picked up one of the tests. It felt heavier than plastic; it felt like a sentence.
He didn't want to know how I was. He didn't want to know if I missed him or if I was hurting.
He wanted to know if the succession pivot had been triggered.
To confirm if my family's ruin was officially on the clock.
Anger rose hot in my chest, slicing through the ache. I wasn’t a person to him. I was an incubator he’d filled and then left while he handled real business.
You’re not a line in a contract, I told myself, holding firmly to the plastic till it bit into my palm.
My period wasn’t due for another week. We'd sex without protection, twice. I panicked, briefly.
If I'm pregnant, everything changes. If I’m not… everything has already changed anyway.
I set the test down slowly, to stop myself from smashing it against the wall. Then I tightened the belt on my robe, wiped the last trace of moisture from my cheeks, dressed up and turned toward the door.
If Orion Kade wanted to know the state of my body, he could look me in the eye and ask—and he could do it while I watched that stoic mask split, piece by piece.