First Marriage Failed, Second Marriage was Sweet

The next morning, I went to the office. It was the last time I'd ever set foot in that building.

First, to clear out my things. Second, to take my projects with me.

Every single one of those deals I'd negotiated myself, piece by piece. The partners knew my name, not anyone else's.

Patrick pushed the door open and saw the files in my hands. His brow creased.

"You're still recovering. You shouldn't push yourself like this. Hand these over to June and let her take care of them."

I looked up at him, almost stunned by the absurdity.

These projects were built on how many sleepless nights I'd spent writing proposals, how many rounds of revisions, how many meetings I'd personally sat through with every partner.

And he thought one sentence was enough to gift them to June?

When Patrick saw I hadn't moved, his expression darkened.

"I'm doing this for your own good. Besides, projects don't wait. June needs a big account to prove herself and shut people up."

Funny. When I first joined the company, Patrick said he was worried people would think I'd gotten in through connections. So he made me start from the very bottom.

In the dead of summer, over a hundred degrees, I was out chasing leads. In winter blizzards, I sat across from partners alone.

Back then, giving me any kind of advantage never once crossed his mind.

I let out a quiet laugh and handed him the files.

"Fine."

I hoped June Fox could handle them.

I turned to leave and nearly ran into Patrick's assistant, who was coming in with documents. She froze when she saw me.

"Mrs. Harding, why are you leav—"

"I just had a miscarriage. My health isn't great. I'm here to hand off some work."

I cut her off before she could finish.

Patrick's gaze sharpened. He'd caught the start of the assistant's question and was about to press further.

The assistant looked apologetic. "Oh, you really should rest properly then. Mr. Harding is so good to you, always worried you'll overwork yourself."

I smiled. "He is."

Patrick watched me, and only when he saw nothing out of the ordinary did the tension leave his face.

I walked out without looking back.

When I got home, June was lounging on the couch eating fruit. The moment she saw me, she sauntered over with a smirk.

"Hey, sis. See? Patrick's willing to give me anything I want."

"And did you really think what happened a year and a half ago was an accident? I slipped the drug myself. Those men were hired by me. I wanted him to rescue me. I wanted to seduce him."

"Why should he care about you so much? Why should he be willing to hate me for your sake? I won't allow anyone to love you. I'll take everything from you. Mom and Dad's love, our brother's love, and Patrick. So what if you're the real heiress?"

She laughed, mocking and cruel, her red lips curled like a wound.

"You know what? After your miscarriage, Patrick thought you were disgusting. Tainted. He couldn't even stand to touch you."

"But with me? Oh, he was so eager. Kept me in bed for three whole days..."

Crack.

I couldn't hold back any longer. My hand connected with her face so hard my palm went numb.

The sting radiated all the way up my arm.

"As long as Patrick and I aren't divorced, you'll always be the other woman. The mistress everyone spits on!"

June clutched her cheek, stunned for a few seconds. Something vicious flashed through her eyes, and she raised her hand to strike back.

The next second, Patrick and Carl walked through the door.

Her face transformed instantly. Tears poured out like a faucet had been turned. She dropped to her knees in front of me and started slamming her forehead against the floor.

"Please, I'm sorry, I know I was wrong! Don't expose what happened between me and Patrick, I'm begging you. I don't want my reputation ruined. I won't fight for Mom and Dad's love anymore, or Carl's. The baby is yours. You're the only true daughter of the Fox family. I'll leave, I'll disappear..."

Patrick's pupils contracted. He shoved me aside and snarled.

"Serena, why do you keep dragging this out? Apologize to June right now. Tell her she's not the other woman."

The shove sent me stumbling. My lower back slammed into the corner of the table, and the pain was so sharp that tears blurred my vision.

I stared at him, my voice raw and shaking.

"Why should I apologize? Isn't that exactly what she is?"

Patrick looked at my ashen face and something in him flinched. The words on his tongue died before they left his mouth.

Carl rushed forward, pulling June to her feet, and turned on me.

"Just because you can't have children, you want to destroy June and her baby? How can you be this vicious?"

I lifted my chin and laughed, cold and hollow.

Patrick saw that I refused to bend. He looked at June's red, swollen eyes, and his face went dark, fury filling every line.

"Since you won't repent, you can go sit in the storage room and think about what you've done. No one lets you out without my permission. No food. No water."

He waved the bodyguards over. They seized my arms and dragged me toward the storage room.

The door slammed shut. The lock clicked into place.

Darkness and cold swallowed me whole.

I leaned against the frozen wall.

Once, he would panic over a scraped knee. Now, weeks after a miscarriage with my body still wrecked, he locked me in a room cold enough to see my own breath.

They didn't let me out until the following evening.

Every muscle had seized. My thoughts drifted in and out of focus.

I dragged myself down the hallway toward my room. As I passed the master bedroom, the door sat slightly ajar. The sounds that spilled out were unmistakable, breathless moans and gasps, each one drilling into my eardrums like a needle.

I wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes, let out a bitter laugh, and stumbled into my room. I collapsed onto the bed and sank into a black, dreamless sleep.

I didn't know how much time had passed before fingers closed around my throat and jolted me awake.

Patrick loomed over me, his eyes bloodshot, screaming.

"Where's the baby? What did you do with the baby?"