My Fiancé Forced Me to Save His Mistress

The organ music stopped twenty minutes ago.

I stood alone in the cathedral bridal suite, staring at my reflection. The dress was heavy silk, with thousands of tiny seed pearls sewn along the bodice. It was the tenth wedding dress I had worn in two years.

Ten dates. Ten bookings. Ten times the groom never arrived.

The heavy oak door creaked open. Father Thomas stepped inside. He held his Bible against his chest and looked at me with deep pity.

"My child," he said softly. "The guests are beginning to leave."

"I know," I said.

My voice was flat. I didn't cry. My tears had dried up three weddings ago.

I reached behind my head. With steady hands, I pulled out the pearl pins and took off the cathedral veil. I folded the white lace and set it on the vanity table. Then I picked up my phone.

Four years ago, Calum and I turned on permanent location sharing. *So I can always find you, Lia,* he had said back then. *So you’re never alone.*

I opened the app. A small blue dot pulsed steadily on the map.

He was not stuck in traffic. He was not closing a billion-dollar deal for Elliott Enterprises.

He was at Mount Sinai Hospital on the Upper East Side.

I didn't change out of my dress. I threw a long black trench coat over the silk, buttoned it to my chin, and walked past the whispering guests.

Twenty minutes later, my heels clicked down the sterile, white floor of Mount Sinai's eighth floor.

I stopped outside Room 814. The door was cracked open an inch.

Calum was inside. He was still wearing his wedding tuxedo, though his bow tie was undone and his jacket hung over a chair. He sat on the edge of the private hospital bed.

Valentina lay under the blankets.

She was my parents' adopted daughter. The girl they brought home when I was ten. The girl who smiled at everyone and took everything that belonged to me.

Calum held her bare foot in his lap. His large, warm hands worked slowly along her arch, massaging the pale skin.

"Does that hurt less?" he murmured.

His voice was so tender. It was the low, velvet tone he used on me when we were teenagers on the playground. Back when he made a promise: *I’ll never let anyone hurt you, Lia.*

"It hurts everywhere, Calum," Valentina whimpered. Her voice was like sugar.

Then her eyes shifted. She saw me through the crack in the door.

She didn't flinch. She didn't let go of him. Instead, a slow, cold smile touched the corners of her mouth.

Valentina sat up, hooked her thin arms around Calum’s neck, and pulled him down.

She kissed him on the mouth. Deep and deliberate.

Calum froze for half a second. Then his hand came up to rest gently against her waist. He did not pull away.

I stood in the hall. Something inside my chest snapped. It was not loud. It felt like brittle ice cracking in deep water. Twenty years of blind devotion died right there in that hallway.

I turned on my heel and walked out.

When I got back to the Daniels townhouse, the house was empty. The staff had gone home.

I went straight to my third-floor bedroom. I didn't bother taking off the gown. The heavy fabric felt like armor now.

I sat down at my old wooden desk and opened my laptop.

For years, my father, Charles Daniels, controlled my trust fund. But my grandmother had left me an independent account when I turned eighteen. I had never touched a penny. I had always assumed Calum and I would build a life together.

I logged into the portal. The screen glowed. Seven figures sat in the account, untouched.

My fingers moved across the keyboard.

*One-way flights. JFK to Zurich.*

*Long-term apartment rentals. Zurich Old Town.*

*Swiss private banking services.*

A wave of sharp nausea rolled through my stomach. I closed my eyes and leaned over the desk, taking slow breaths until the sour taste passed. I figured it was just stress from the day.

I had no idea that a tiny life, four weeks old, was already growing inside me.

***

Three days later, the house was full again.

We were in the middle of dinner. The dining table was set with silver and fine china. My mother, Eleanor, was busy spooning asparagus onto Valentina's plate. My father was reviewing a real estate contract.

I sat at the end of the table in a thick knit sweater. My ribs still throbbed with every breath. Just five days ago, a truck had clipped my sedan on the FDR Drive. Dark purple bruises covered my chest and arms.

Nobody at the table had asked about the crash.

"I feel so weak today," Valentina murmured suddenly.

She set her fork down. Her face was pale. She stood up from her chair and walked toward the grand foyer.

"Valentina?" Eleanor called out, frowning. "Where are you going, sweetheart?"

Valentina reached the top of the grand marble staircase. She stopped. She looked over her shoulder, caught my eye, and then deliberately pitched herself forward.

Her body tumbled down twenty white marble steps.

The sound of her body hitting the stone floor was sickening.

"My baby!" Eleanor screamed, knocking her wine glass across the white linen.

Charles bolted from his seat. "Get the ambulance! Call the doctor!"

The house erupted into chaos. Servants ran. Eleanor threw herself onto the floor beside Valentina, sobbing uncontrollably. Valentina lay in a heap at the bottom of the stairs, clutching her lower back and moaning in agony.

Thirty minutes later, the front doors burst open.

Calum ran in. His face was ghostly pale. His shirt was untucked, his tie gone.

"Where is she?" he shouted.

He didn't look at Charles. He didn't look at Eleanor. And he didn't look at me, standing near the doorway, holding my bruised ribs.

He dropped to his knees next to the paramedics' gurney.

"Val," Calum choked out, taking her limp hand. "Look at me. Look at my eyes. I’m right here. You're going to be fine."

Valentina opened her eyes slightly. Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Calum... it hurts. My side..."

"I've got you," he whispered frantically. "I won't let anything happen to you."

The paramedics lifted the gurney to move her out. Calum stood up to follow them.

For the first time, his eyes swept past me. He saw me standing against the wall. He saw the dark bruises peeking past my sweater collar from my own accident.

His face showed no concern. There was only raw, sharp irritation.

"Get out of the way, Aurelia," he snapped.

He pushed past my shoulder and ran out into the night.