He Married His Mistress While I Miscarried, Then Found Out I'm an Heiress

His face went cold on the spot.

"She's a sweet, innocent girl. Don't go scaring her."

It felt like someone had shoved an old, filthy rag down my throat.

The nausea rose until I couldn't stop my face from going gray.

Zane frowned, like he wanted to smooth something over.

He grabbed a necklace from the cabinet and tossed it down in front of me.

"Here, this is for you. Just clear out for a few days, and once things settle down—"

I could barely hear what he was saying.

The two words stamped on the necklace box, "Promotional Gift," stabbed at my eyes until they ached, until my voice cracked.

"I'll leave."

I turned and walked into the other room to dig out my papers.

Cara followed at my side, the necklace box in her hands, prettily pressing it into my arms again and again.

"Don't feel bad about taking it. This necklace is expensive, sure, but my family has plenty of money."

"And I don't even like it, so giving it to a servant is no big deal."

"It's my wedding gift, after all. I hope you'll find a man someday who loves you as much as mine loves me."

She smiled, bright and guileless, the very picture of a kind and generous lady of the house.

All I felt was the irony of it. I lifted my head and looked toward the doorway.

At the man who used to light up just looking into my eyes, who once said he loved me to the bone.

Zane's brow only knit tighter.

Even his expression had soured.

He motioned for Cara to step out first.

Once the door closed.

Zane came over, his hand clamping down hard around my wrist.

He sighed, his tone weary, like he was coaxing a child who didn't know any better.

"Crystal, I know this hurts you."

"But a man worth what I'm worth—what's wrong with keeping a few women around?"

His voice dropped low, threaded with that coaxing lilt.

"Besides, Cara's a simple girl. It took me ages to win her over. She's stood by me for seven years. A man has to take responsibility."

"You've always been so understanding, so considerate. You'll see where I'm coming from, won't you?"

His voice wasn't loud, yet every word landed like a hammer, pounding until my chest bled.

I lowered my head and pulled my hand free of his.

I didn't want to say a single word to him.

I grabbed my suitcase and turned to leave.

My silence set Zane off.

His face twisted, and he kicked my suitcase.

"Crystal Donaldson, don't you dare throw my generosity back in my face!"

The case flew across the room, slammed into the wall, and split open.

He stared down at me, his eyes cold and cutting.

"I kept you. I never cut off your cards, let you live in a mansion, drive a luxury car—and that's still not enough?"

"If you want to blame someone, blame your own useless womb!"

His gaze swept over my stomach like it was a patch of dead, worthless ground.

"You expect me to stay with you and die without an heir?"

Every word drove straight into me, every one cut to the bone.

I froze where I stood, the blood in my veins turning to ice.

My first child with him had come by accident, back when Zane was at his poorest.

Back then he couldn't even afford to take on a single project. We were so broke the two of us split one boxed meal.

Next month's rent depended on my odd shifts at the convenience store.

We didn't even have the money for a proper clinic procedure.

All I could do was buy the cheapest pills and force it through at home.

It was long, and it was brutal.

The whole night, I curled up on the bed, the pain dragging me in and out of consciousness, blood soaking the sheets until I nearly passed out.

Zane knelt by the bed, his eyes red, his hands shaking as he fed me sips of warm sugar water, his voice choking with sobs.

"Crystal, I'm so sorry."

"I swear, I'll spend my whole life making it up to you."

"I'll work myself to death before I ever let you suffer like this again."