Chapter 2Mending My Heart Without You

Adrian was clearly infuriated by my indifference. He blocked the door, but before he could speak, footsteps echoed in the hallway.

Daphne appeared, carrying a fruit platter. Seeing us alone, her eyes instantly welled with tears.

"Beatrice... do you still blame me for keeping the engagement?" She whimpered. "I really didn't mean to... If you love Adrian, I... I can step aside..."

Catherine rushed over, her brow furrowing deeply. "Beatrice! You just got back, and you're already tearing this house apart? Daphne's heart can't take this stress!"

"How can you be so shameless, trying to seduce your sister's fiancé on your very first night?"

The text erupted:

[Aha! Caught red-handed! The villainess is definitely going to drop the pregnancy bomb now!]

[Classic white lotus victim act. The sister is about to lose her mind and start screaming!]

"I didn't do anything," I said, my voice dead. "If that's all, I'd like to sleep."

Without waiting for a response, I shut the door.

Outside, I heard Catherine soothing Daphne.

The text:

[Wait, shouldn't she be screaming? This is weird.]

[She's playing the long game! Her acting is getting way too good.]

I ignored the floating words. My phone buzzed. It was a massive wire transfer from Adrian.

Then a message: "Keep quiet about the past. Do it out of respect for what I did for you."

I let out a bitter laugh.

Yes, he had saved me. Five years ago, when my adoptive grandmother was dying, I had just finished high school. My college acceptance letter had arrived, but I was working at a sleazy high-end club to pay her medical bills. That night, a group of men cornered me in a private VIP room. They threw drinks on me, tore at my collar. I screamed, but no one heard.

Adrian had kicked the door open, knocked them down, and wrapped his jacket around my shoulders. He didn't ask questions. Just said, "Do you need money?"

I nodded, tears streaming down my face. He gave me a card. "Take it. Go to college. Don't come back to places like this."

He saved me, saved my grandmother's life, and gave me a future. He funded my education, visited me, and eventually, on a rainy night in my small apartment, we became lovers.

Before she died, Grandma Ruth held his hand and said, "Take care of Beatrice." He had promised he would.

I believed him. For five years, from age eighteen to twenty-three, I gave him my youth. I learned his habits, prepared his meals, studied finance and business to understand his world. He told me his family wanted an equal match, and asked me to wait. To wait until he had enough power to marry me.

Yesterday, I found out I was pregnant. Before I could tell him, the Harringtons found me.

I thought we were finally equals.

But he chose Daphne—who wasn't even a Harrington by blood anymore.

My eyes blurred. I opened my email and clicked on a message from three days ago: an unconditional offer for a Master's degree at the Royal College of Art in London.

I clicked "Accept".

Adrian, the baby, the five years—I was leaving them all behind.

The text:

[Wait, what is she looking at? An English website?]

[Who cares, she's probably plotting her next move to trap Adrian.]

I turned off the screen, staring into the dark.