The Unwanted Mistress Becomes The Rival's Queen

I stared at her, the room spinning dizzily around me.

This was treason.

In our world, passing off a bastard child as the bloodline heir wasn't just a lie; it was a death sentence.

"I'm going to tell him," I said, taking a step toward the bathroom door where the water was still running.

Vivian didn't even flinch.

"Go ahead," she challenged, her voice dripping with ice. "Tell him. Tell him the jealous, barren mistress is making up stories to hurt the grieving widow. See who he believes."

The water stopped running.

A moment later, Damien walked out, drying his hands on a plush white towel.

He looked between us, sensing the tension like static electricity in the air.

"Damien," I said, my voice steady despite the frantic pounding in my chest. "You need to listen to me. She just admitted she drugged you. The baby isn't yours. It isn't Aaron's."

Damien froze.

He looked at Vivian.

Vivian immediately burst into tears, grabbing the sheets and pulling them up to her chin as if she were naked and vulnerable.

"See?" she sobbed, pointing a shaking finger at me. "She's doing it again! She's trying to stress me into a miscarriage! She's making up insane lies because she hates me!"

"It's not a lie!" I shouted, stepping forward. "Aaron was sterile! Ask the doctor! Check the records!"

"Stop it!" Damien roared.

The sound of his voice was like a physical blow.

He stepped between us, his back to me, shielding her from a threat that didn't exist.

"Aaron was not sterile," Damien said, his voice shaking with suppressed rage. "My brother was a man. Do not insult his memory."

"She is playing you, Damien!" I grabbed his arm.

He ripped his arm away from my grasp with enough force to make me stumble backwards.

"Enough!" he yelled. "I don't care about your conspiracy theories, Estelle. I care about stability. I care that my men see an heir. I care that the Outfit doesn't crumble into a civil war because you can't handle your jealousy!"

Jealousy.

He thought I was jealous.

"Is that what you think this is?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

"Look at her," Damien gestured to Vivian, who was trembling theatrically. "She is the mother of the future of this family. You will show her respect."

He turned to Vivian, his voice softening instantly.

"I'm sorry, Viv. She's upset. It won't happen again."

Vivian sniffled, wiping her eyes.

"I just want to be safe, Damien. Maybe I should leave... go to the country house..."

"No," Damien said firmly. "You stay here. Where I can protect you."

He turned back to me.

"We have a deal," he said, his eyes hard. "Once the child is born, Vivian goes to the estate in Sicily. Then, and only then, we can talk about us. About marriage."

"Marriage," I repeated, the word tasting like ash.

"I swear it," he said. "Just wait a few more months. Let me pay my debt to Aaron."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black credit card.

"Go to the boutique tomorrow," he said, shoving the card into my hand. "Get a wedding dress. Get whatever you want. Just... keep the peace."

I looked at the black plastic in my hand.

It was money.

It was a bribe to shut up and let him play house with a traitor.

I looked at Vivian. She winked at me from behind Damien's back.

Something inside me snapped.

It wasn't a loud snap. It was the quiet sound of a tether breaking.

"Okay," I said softly.

Damien blinked, surprised by my sudden submission.

"Okay?"

"I'll go get a dress," I said, my fingers tightening around the card. "I'll keep the peace."

I wasn't going to let him drown in his lies.

I was going to let him burn in them.