The Weight of Broken Promises
Chapter 4
Ada wore a maid's uniform, and across the room, a little boy had trashed the place.
When Bella walked in, Ada popped up from beside Steven and flashed a polite smile. "Mrs. Rocca, you're back. Madam Miranda sent me to look after Oliver."
Bella's lips pressed tight, breath catching.
How dare Steven—how dare he bring them here?
Steven noticed her face shift and rushed in. "Babe, I texted you this afternoon. Maybe you missed it. Mom brought Oliver back from an orphanage. She said he was meant to be with us."
All the heartbreak she'd spilled in that empty meeting room was gone. What was left burned hot.
They really thought she was stupid.
"Steven, are you trying to rip my heart out on purpose?" Her voice shook with fury.
Steven frowned, thrown by how hard she snapped.
"Don't be mad! You know my family needs an heir. I saw how much you still grieve for the baby we lost, so I gave in to Mom. If you don't like it, I'll have him sent away right now."
Everyone knew Steven loved Bella. His one rule—Bella first.
Even now, he was ready to toss out his own son if she asked.
That kind of twisted devotion only made her stomach turn.
She was about to lay it all bare when the boy—Oliver—suddenly wailed.
"You're a bad lady! Daddy, why are you with this bad lady? Don't you want me anymore?"
The shrieking drilled into Steven's skull. "Oliver! Who told you to talk like that?"
Then to the household staff: “Are you all deaf? Get him out of here!”
Staff scrambled to scoop up the crying kid and rush him off.
Ada panicked. "Mr. Rocca, it's all my fault. Please don't blame Oliver."
As she said it, her eyes clung to Steven, all soft and pitiful.
Steven sighed, voice dropping. "I'm not blaming him. He's just a kid—he doesn't know better. Go take care of him."
Bella watched it play out, her chest icing over with every second.
She yanked away from Steven and went upstairs, slamming the door in his face.
He lingered outside, frustrated but still trying to sound gentle. "Babe, it's my fault. I'll send the kid away first thing in the morning. If you don't want me with you tonight, that's fine. Just rest. We'll talk tomorrow."
Bella slid down against the door, listening as his footsteps faded. Her chest ached so deep it felt hollow.
What difference did it make if the kid stayed or not? Blood doesn't just disappear. In the end, the one who'd have to leave... was her.
She didn't answer. She locked the door.
Alone, she slumped against the cold wood. Once Steven’s footsteps disappeared, whatever strength she had left gave out—and she slid to the floor.
She was just so tired—bone-deep, soul-deep tired.
She didn't know how long she sat there until her phone buzzed. She unlocked it with numb fingers.
A text—from an unknown number.
Ada.
[You shut Steven out. Don't blame him for coming to me.]
Bella's eyes flew wide. She pushed to her feet and stepped out of the bedroom.
At the end of the hall, the study light glowed.
The door hung half open. Inside, Ada's syrupy voice drifted out. "Steven, that hurts..."
Steven's grunt cut rough. “Didn’t want pain, but still trying to seduce me? You really don’t know how to behave—even after having a kid.”
Bella froze, ice tearing through her veins.
She never thought Steven would fall this low, this fast.
Ada's soft moan slipped out, shaky but deliberate. "I just saw how upset you were after fighting with your wife... I wanted to cheer you up."
"Don't make excuses for being easy," Steven snapped. "If you want Ollie to stay in this family, don't pick fights with Bella."
Bella couldn't take it.
She didn't even know how she made it back to her room.
In the bathroom, she gripped the sink and retched until her stomach burned.
Only when the pain twisted sharp did she slowly lift her head to the mirror.
No tears left.
She was the proud Beaufort heiress. This—this wreck—wasn't who she was meant to be.
She sat hollow for what felt like forever, until the sky bled pale. Only then did she finally crawl into bed.
This time, she was done. She didn't want him anymore.
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