The Heiress He Threw Away

The days blurred together in a haze of grief, pain, and emptiness. I barely ate. I barely slept. The hospital walls felt suffocating, pressing in on me with every passing second.

But the worst part? The silence. No messages. No calls. Lothario never came.

I should have known better, but a small part of me still clung to hope. Maybe he didn’t know. Maybe he hadn’t heard about the accident. Maybe, just maybe, there was a reason for all of this.

So the moment I found the strength to stand, I forced myself out of bed, ignoring the soreness in my limbs and the bandages wrapped around my body. I had to see him. I needed answers.

But as I reached for my coat, memories flooded in—memories of the Lothario I once knew.

I remembered the time I got lost in the forest. It was supposed to be a simple hike, but the sun had set too quickly, and before I knew it, I was alone, freezing, and bleeding from a nasty cut on my leg. Lothario had found me. I could still hear his voice, thick with worry.

“Pearl! Where the hell are you?”

The moment I saw him running toward me, I burst into tears. He dropped to his knees, checking my injury with shaking hands. “Damn it, Pearl. Why would you go alone? What if I didn’t find you in time?”

I tried to laugh it off. “You always find me, Lothario.”

He scoffed, lifting me into his arms. “That’s not the point. You scared me.”

He didn’t leave my side that night, sitting beside my hospital bed, fingers intertwined with mine. “I’m never letting you go off on your own again, understood?” he'd whispered, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to shake off the ache in my chest. Where was that Lothario now?

Then, another memory surfaced—the winter we went ice skating. It had started as a perfect day, with snowflakes dancing in the air as we skated hand in hand. But I’d been careless, too excited, and ended up twisting my ankle. I remembered the way Lothario had caught me just before I hit the ice, his arms strong around me.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” he had asked, his face etched with concern.

I had tried to play it off, but the pain was too much. Without hesitation, he had carried me off the rink, his jaw clenched in frustration. “You’re so damn stubborn. Why didn’t you let me teach you properly?”

“Because I wanted to be good at it already."

He had sighed, gently massaging my ankle before carrying me to the hospital. And after? He showed up at my apartment with my favorite food, a bouquet of roses, and the biggest teddy bear he could find.

“Since you can’t walk for a while, you’ll have to hug this instead of me,” he'd joked, ruffling my hair.

That was Lothario. That was the man I loved.

And yet, now? Nothing. No Lothario. No calls. No messages. No flowers. No teddy bear. Not even a simple 'Are you okay?'

I clenched my fists, swallowing back the tears that threatened to spill. Maybe I had been a fool to believe I still meant something to him.

But I needed to hear it from him. I needed to see the truth for myself.

So, with shaking legs and a heart that felt too heavy to carry, I walked out of the hospital.

---

Lothario’s estate was the same as always. Grand, untouchable. But something was different this time. The guards at the gate hesitated before letting me in. The maids inside lowered their gazes when they saw me. A thick silence hung in the air, as if the entire house was holding its breath.

This was the third time I had been here. Unlike before, when we lived together in a small apartment, this mansion was newly bought by Lothario after he became a millionaire. When he asked to live alone, I agreed without question—I didn’t want to suffocate our relationship. Space was supposed to be good for us.

But now, standing in the middle of his grand estate, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was nothing more than a guest in his life.

And then I saw them. The invitations. Neatly stacked on the marble foyer table.

Lothario De Luca & Alessia Ricci.

Engagement Party – This Friday.

My vision blurred. The walls of my stomach twisted painfully, and before I could stop myself, I stumbled into the nearest sink and threw up. He was mine. Wasn’t he?

A soft, familiar voice cut through the fog in my mind.

“Pearl?”

I wiped my mouth, my entire body trembling as I turned. Lothario stood there, tall and perfect as ever. As if nothing had happened. His eyes ran over me, but he didn’t frown at the bruises on my skin, didn’t notice the bandages peeking out from beneath my sleeves. He just smiled.

“I’ve been meaning to call you,” he said casually, stepping closer. “I got busy.”

I swallowed the bitterness on my tongue. He reached out, pulling me into a warm embrace. The scent of his expensive cologne wrapped around me, familiar yet sickening. My body stiffened, but I let him hold me. No need to lash out. Not yet.

“Come,” he murmured, pulling away. “Have dinner with me.”

I followed him into the dining hall, my heart pounding in my chest. The long table was already set. Crystal glasses, silver cutlery, steaming plates of perfectly arranged food. He poured me a glass of wine like nothing had changed. Like we weren’t broken.

I forced myself to stay calm, to play along, even as my hands trembled around the glass. I watched him, waiting. Finally, as he twirled his fork into his pasta, I spoke.

“What am I to you, Lothario?”

He didn’t even hesitate. “The woman I’m going to marry.”

I felt my stomach drop.

“The woman I want to have a child with,” he added.

The words struck like a blade. A child.

I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood. He didn’t know. He didn’t know I had been in an accident. He didn’t know I had been carrying his child. He didn’t know that I had lost everything.

And worst of all—he didn’t care enough to ask.