AVA'S POV

By the time Ethan dropped me off at the Voss family estate, my tears had dried into a dull ache behind my eyes. I promised him again that I'd be fine, that there was no need to tell Father. Adrian didn't mean what he'd said. Ethan didn't believe me. I could see it in the way his jaw clenched, in the way his hands tightened around the steering wheel before he drove away.

But what choice did I have? If Father found out, Adrian's deal with Sinclair Global would vanish overnight-and with it, the only dream I had left of Adrian achieving his dreams and someday being proud of me.

I pushed open the front door, stepping into the cold, cavernous entryway. The scent of polish and lemon cleaner lingered in the air, but it did nothing to soften the voices that greeted me.

"There you are," my mother-in-law, Margaret Voss, snapped from the sitting room. "Where have you been, Ava? Running off first thing in the morning while the house looks like a pigsty? I suppose you expect us to make our own breakfast now?"

I froze, clutching my bag tighter.

Behind her, on the chaise, sat Adrian's younger sister, Marissa, scrolling lazily through her phone. She glanced up, her lips curling. "Honestly, Mother, what do you expect? Ava's not a wife. She's a leech. A curse. She couldn't boil water without burning it, let alone care for this house properly."

Heat rose in my face, but I kept my tone steady. "I-I had an appointment this morning. At the hospital."

Marissa's phone clattered to the cushion as she sat upright, eyes wide. "Hospital? Wait-don't tell me-are you pregnant?"

The words seemed to freeze the air.

Margaret's face went pale, then blotchy red as she surged to her feet. "Pregnant?" Her voice cracked like thunder. "Don't you dare say such a thing in this house, Ava. Don't you dare!"

I blinked, stunned. "But-why-"

She glanced at me and scoffed.

"But why? Because Ava," Margaret hissed, advancing on me with eyes full of venom, "my son's life has already been cursed once by marrying you. I will not have him chained forever to misfortune by a child that should never be born."

My hand instinctively covered my stomach. My heart clenched as though she had struck me physically.

Marissa smirked, her voice dripping with cruelty. "Mother's right. Imagine a child with her face. With that scar. What kind of misfortune would that bring to the Voss name?"

Tears stung my eyes, but I held them back. I would not cry. Not in front of them.

Margaret jabbed a finger toward me. "You'd better pray you're not pregnant, Ava. Pray every night. Because if you think we'll allow this family's legacy to be tainted, you're gravely mistaken."

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. The report in my bag burned like fire against my hip. Positive. The most beautiful word I had ever seen, now twisted into a curse on my tongue.

"I'll... make dinner," I whispered, and I turned away before they could see the crack in my composure.

***

That night, I sat alone in the darkened dining room, the clock ticking endlessly. The dinner I had prepared sat cold on the table, untouched. My scar ached with the memory of Margaret's words, Marissa's laughter, Adrian's denial.

At last, the front door slammed open.

I shot to my feet, heart racing, hope warring with dread.

Adrian staggered in, the sharp tang of whiskey hitting me before he even crossed the threshold. His tie hung loose around his neck, his shirt half-untucked. Red lipstick smeared faintly across his collar.

And clinging to him was a scent that didn't belong to me. Floral. Sweet. Expensive. Selene. My face fell.

"Adrian," I breathed, stepping forward. "You're home."

He stopped in the doorway, his gray eyes bloodshot, his expression hard as stone. "Don't." His voice was low, dangerous. "Don't come near me."

I froze.

His gaze flicked to the table, then back to me, disgust curling his lip. "What is this? Another pathetic attempt to play house? Do you think I need your little dinners to feel like I have a wife?"

My chest tightened. "I just wanted-"

"To disgrace me huh. What you want doesn't matter!" His shout cut through me, sharp and merciless. "Do you hear me? What you want doesn't matter. Not your feelings. Not your face. Not your-" He stopped abruptly, his nostrils flaring, his eyes narrowing as if he had caught something in the air.

"And how dare you show your face at my office this morning after I've told you-warned you-not to? How many times must I remind you, Ava? You don't belong there. You don't belong in my world."

The words ripped through me, harsher than the guards' hands dragging me out. I stumbled back, shaking my head.

My hand instinctively brushed against my stomach.

"What were you doing at the hospital this morning?" His words were cold, edged with suspicion.

I swallowed, my throat dry. "It was just-just a check-up. Nothing important."

He stepped closer, looming over me, the scent of whiskey and another woman suffocating me. "If you're hiding something from me, Ava..." His voice dropped to a deadly whisper. "I'll never forgive you."

I trembled, clutching my bag against me like a shield. The test result pressed hard against my palm inside, a secret I wasn't ready to share-not now, not like this.

"Adrian, please," I whispered. "I just... I just wanted to see you happy."

His laugh was bitter, sharp as broken glass. "Happy? By humiliating me? Happy? With you?"

"I-I only wanted to surprise you. I thought you'd be happy."

"Happy?" He gave a bitter laugh, his mouth twisted cruelly. "The only thing I felt when you walked into that building was shame." My heart dropped.

"I warned you never to come to my office," I snapped, stepping closer. "And yet you did. After everything I've told you, you still disobeyed me. Do you have any idea what you've done? You humiliated me in front of my staff. In front of Sinclair Global."

My chin trembled. "I didn't mean-"

"Didn't mean?" His laugh was bitter. "You're unstable, Ava. Confused. Obsessed with playing the role of wife when you're nothing but a liability to me. I've been protecting you from the world's eyes, and this is how you repay me?"

My eyes filled with tears, but I shook her head desperately. "Adrian, that's not fair-"

Tears blurred my vision. My heart twisted so violently I thought I might faint. Protecting me? Was that what he called his shame? Was that what he meant every time he'd told me not to show up at his office, not to attend his events, not to stand beside him in public?

He wasn't protecting me.

He was hiding me. Selene was right.

"And now," He roared, slamming my fist onto the table, "I find out you've been parading around in public with another man? Do you enjoy making me look like a fool?" My breath caught in my throat.

"Who is he Ava?"

My face went white. "What? No! Adrian, I would never-"

"Don't lie to me!"

The force of his voice shook me to my core. My hands instinctively pressed against my stomach, as though to shield the tiny secret growing inside me. His gaze lingered for a second, suspicion flickering in his eyes, before turning away in disgust.

He shoved past me, sending me stumbling against the table. Plates rattled, silverware clattered, but I caught myself before falling.

The silence he left behind was deafening.

Adrian didn't look back. He only muttered, "You disgust me." as he disappeared up the stairs, leaving the reek of whiskey and betrayal in his wake.

I sank into my chair, the tears spilling freely now. My hand trembled as it lingered on my stomach. I can't tell him, I realized with a sickening clarity. If he could look at me with such hatred now, what would he do if he knew? He wouldn't see a baby. He would see a trap. Another curse.

Staring at the untouched dinner, the lipstick stain burnt into my memory like a stamp. My stomach twisted violently-not from the child I carried, but from the growing realization that Adrian might never see me as anything more than a shame he couldn't erase.

Would he have acted this way if he knew about my identity as the heiress to the Company he wishes to secure a partnership with?

And in that moment, I understood: the life I was carrying, the life I thought would save us, might be the very thing that breaks me completely.

Upstairs, the muffled sound of Adrian's phone buzzed through the silence. I couldn't hear the words exchanged, but I knew that laugh. Selene's laugh.

And as my hand cradled my stomach, I realized the truth that chilled me to my bones.

If Adrian ever discovered I was pregnant... it wouldn't bring him closer.

It might destroy me.

How do I tell him about my true identity when I can't even reveal my pregnancy to him?

ADRIAN'S POV

I should have known the day would unravel the moment she walked into my lobby.

Ava.

Her hair was loose around her shoulders, her beautiful wide eyes fixed on me as though she had every right to stand there, every right to be here.

I felt the whispers before I heard them-the rustle of employees shifting in their seats, the smirks exchanged, the unspoken question in their eyes: Who is this scarred woman claiming to be Adrian Voss's wife?

I couldn't let them think it was true.

Not with the Sinclairs seconds away from stepping into my tower.

So I said the words I knew would cut her. Words that made me colder than the man she thought she married.

"Who are you?"

The silence that followed was electric. I forced my expression to remain calm, measured, in control as I watched her hopeful face get replaced with a crestfallen expression. The guards did their job, dragging her out. But my pulse raced and my heart thundered in my chest as her voice echoed after me-Adrian, it's me. I'm your wife.

I turned to Charles Sinclair just as he entered with his entourage. My smile was smooth, my tone calm, my excuses ready.

"My apologies, Mr. Sinclair," I said lightly, as if the scene hadn't rattled me. "That woman is... confused. She's been showing up here recently, unstable and obsessed. Unfortunately, success attracts that kind of attention."

Charles studied me with those piercing blue eyes of his. For a moment, I feared he might press the issue. But then he gave a curt nod, as though I had confirmed something he already believed.

"Shall we?" he said, his voice clipped.

Relief surged, and I ushered him into the conference room.

***

I threw myself into the presentation with ruthless precision. Voss Enterprises' growth charts filled the screens, numbers rising with each slide. I spoke of expansions, markets, global opportunities. This deal with Sinclair Global would propel us beyond borders, into an empire.

But even as I spoke, I couldn't fully silence the memory of her face. Ava's lips parted in shock, her eyes wet, her bag slipping from her shoulder as if I'd struck her. I didn't mean to hurt her. But why did she have to show up? I have told her severally to never come to my office.

Why did she have to come here? Why today, of all days?

The doors opened midway, and Ethan Sinclair entered.

The eldest son. My supposed bridge to his father.

Tall, broad, with the same piercing eyes as Charles, Ethan slid into his chair without a word. But he didn't look at the charts. He didn't look at the numbers. He looked at me.

And he glared.

The intensity of it unsettled me. For a brief second, I faltered, my voice tightening before I smoothed it out again. Surely, he was simply skeptical. Perhaps he didn't approve of me. But the animosity in his eyes-it felt personal.

I pushed through. By the end, I was certain I had impressed Charles with my vision, my strategy.

Then came the blow.

"If this partnership proceeds," Charles said, folding his hands, "Ethan will oversee all Voss dealings with Sinclair Global. Every negotiation. Every joint venture. Every detail passes through him."

My jaw nearly locked. Ethan. The same man who'd glared at me as if he wanted to put me through the floor.

I forced a smile. "Of course. I look forward to working with Ethan."

Ethan gave me a smile. It wasn't friendly.

***

When the meeting adjourned, I lingered in the lobby, my mind racing. I had nearly secured what I wanted, but with Ethan as my gatekeeper, everything was suddenly uncertain.

"Bad day, Adrian?"

Her voice was like silk over steel.

I turned to find Selene Monroe leaning against a column, her red lips curved into a smile that promised secrets. Dressed in a fitted black dress, she was impossible to ignore, though I often wished I could.

She stepped closer, her perfume curling around me. "You seemed... tense in there. Distracted."

I adjusted my tie. "I had no such problem."

"Oh, really?" She tilted her head and held out her phone. "Then explain this."

On the screen, my world tilted.

Ava.

In another man's arms.

His hand firm at her back, her face pressed against his chest, his lips dangerously close to her ear. Frame after frame, each one angled to scream intimacy rather than comfort.

Ice filled my veins.

Selene sighed, her tone dripping with feigned sympathy. "I didn't want to believe it either. But there it is. Your wife. With another man. While you're in here fighting for your future."

I couldn't breathe.

I knew Ava was naïve, too soft for this world. But with a man? With another man?

"I'll kill him," I muttered, my voice low.

Selene smirked, sliding her phone back into her clutch. "Careful. You don't want to do anything rash. Better to let him dig his own grave. In the meantime, why don't you come have a drink with me? You shouldn't be alone tonight."

"I have a driver."

"Perfect," she purred. "Then you can drop me. Just one drink, Adrian. To take the edge off."

I should have said no. I should have walked away. But the images seared themselves into my mind, each one worse than the last. So I followed her.

***

The bar was dim, crowded, loud. Whiskey burned down my throat, but it didn't burn away the images of Ava and the mystery man.

Selene leaned close, her fingers brushing my arm. "You deserve better, Adrian. A man like you shouldn't be shackled to someone who doesn't even respect you."

"Don't start, Selene," I muttered.

She only smiled, her hand sliding higher up my sleeve. "I'm not starting anything you don't want."

Her perfume suffocated me, her body pressing into mine. She angled her lips to my neck, her breath hot.

"Let me make you forget her."

I shoved her hand away. "I told you. I'm not attracted to you."

But she only laughed softly and pressed her lips to my neck. Once. Twice. Smearing crimson lipstick deliberately against my collar.

By the time I pulled her off me, her eyes gleamed with triumph. "Just a little reminder," she whispered. "So you won't go home thinking about her."

***

Near midnight, the driver pulled into the estate. My head pounded, Selene's perfume clinging like poison.

"I looked into it Sir. Miss Voss came to the office after a visit to the hospital." Travis, my driver informed me.

I paused. The hospital? What could she be doing there?

God, Ava. I sighed.

"Thank you Travis." I unlocked the door and stepped outside.

The dining room lights were still on when I walked into the house. Ava sat at the table, her posture tense, her eyes red from crying. She looked up as I entered.

Hope flickered-then died as her gaze landed on my collar.

I wasn't in the mood for her theatrics.

Her lips trembled. "Adrian..."

"Don't start." My voice was rough.

"I just-"

"I warned you never to come to my office," I snapped, stepping closer. "And yet you did. After everything I've told you, you still disobeyed me. Do you have any idea what you've done? You humiliated me in front of my staff. In front of Sinclair Global."

Her chin trembled. "I didn't mean-"

"Didn't mean?" My laugh was bitter. "You're unstable, Ava. Confused. Obsessed with playing the role of wife when you're nothing but a liability to me. I've been protecting you from the world's eyes, and this is how you repay me?"

Her eyes filled with tears, but she shook her head desperately. "Adrian, that's not fair-"

"And now," I roared, slamming my fist onto the table, "I find out you've been been parading around in public with a man? Do you enjoy making me look like a fool?" She looked at me with widened eyes.

"Who is he Ava?"

Her face went white. "What? No! Adrian, I would never-"

"Don't lie to me!"

The plates rattled with the force of my rage. She flinched, her hands clutching her stomach instinctively. I noticed the movement, a flicker of something strange passing over her face.

But I was too blinded by the images Selene had shown me, too consumed by the idea of betrayal.

I shoved past her, my fists clenched. "You disgust me."

Upstairs, my phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number.

"More where that came from. She isn't who you think she is."

And attached was another photo.

Ava. The man. Her face pressed to his chest, her eyes closed, as though she belonged there.

I turned away, the image of the man's arms around her burning hotter than any whiskey.

And for the first time, I wondered if Selene was right.

Maybe I didn't know my wife at all.

AVA'S POV

I woke the next morning to an empty bed. The sheets beside me were cold, already smoothed out from hours of absence. For a moment, I thought Adrian was in the shower, or maybe in the kitchen grabbing coffee before work. But the house was silent.

Too silent.

I glanced at the nightstand. No note. My heart stuttered. Adrian always left a note when he had to leave early. Just a small thing-a kiss to my cheek, a scribbled Don't wait up or Have breakfast, don't skip it. A routine that had been ours since the first month of marriage.

But today, nothing.

A hollow ache spread through my chest. He hadn't even checked on me.

I pressed my palm against my stomach. "It's okay," I whispered to the life growing inside me. "He's just busy."

But deep down, doubt gnawed at me. I couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in my gut.

***

The voices hit me the moment I descended the stairs.

"You're finally awake," Margaret Voss snapped from the living room, her disapproval sharp enough to cut glass. Her graying hair was pulled into its usual tight bun, her eyes pinched with disdain.

Beside her, Marissa lounged on the sofa, scrolling her phone. "Honestly, Mother, I don't even know why you bother or why Adrian tolerates her. She sleeps all morning like a pampered cat."

I frowned. "It's eight-thirty. I came down as soon as I woke up."

Margaret sniffed. "Excuses. Do you know what a real wife does? She wakes before her husband. She makes breakfast for him, for his family. She cleans the house so it's spotless before the sun fully rises. Not stumble around like some spoiled brat who thinks she's above responsibility."

I bit my tongue. For two years, I'd endured this. Their sharp words, their mocking laughter, their constant reminders that I wasn't worthy of their son. That I didn't belong here.

Margaret scoffed. "Of course, you wouldn't know the first thing about being a wife, not to mention a good one. You think this house is some kind of free ride for a charity case."

The words cut deep, even though I'd heard them a hundred times before. To them, I was nothing more than Adrian's pity project-a useless, scarred woman he'd foolishly tied himself to.

But today, something inside me snapped. I was done letting them walk all over me. 

"I am Adrian's wife," I said softly but firmly. "Not your maid."

Marissa dropped her phone, finally looking at me. Her eyes gleamed with mockery. "Did you hear that, Mother? The little stray has found her voice."

Margaret's lips thinned into a cruel smile. "Oh, is that so? Then you won't mind if we start treating you as a wife should be treated. Wash our clothes. Mine and Marissa's. All of them. Including the underwear."

Revulsion rolled through me. "No. I won't."

The room froze.

Margaret's eyes widened in shock, then narrowed into slits. "What did you just say to me?"

Marissa's mouth dropped open in exaggerated shock. "Did she just-?"

Marissa smirked. "Careful, Ava. Mother doesn't like being disrespected."

"I said," I repeated, my voice trembling but steady, "that I will no longer wash your clothes. Or yours, Marissa. Especially not your underwear."

Marissa gasped dramatically, as if I had cursed her. "You ungrateful leech!"

Margaret rose from her chair, her face blotchy with fury. "You dare refuse me? In my son's house?"

Before I could step back, Margaret's hand flew faster than I expected. The crack of her palm against my cheek rang out in the room. My head whipped to the side, the sting burning hot across my scar.

"Ungrateful wretch! How dare you speak to me that way," she spat. "We took you in, fed you, gave you a roof. And this is how you repay us? With disrespect? You would be nothing without my son. Nothing!"

I staggered, clutching my cheek. "I never asked for your roof. I never asked for your food. I only wanted to be a wife to Adrian."

Marissa surged forward, shoving me hard. Her nails scraped my arm. "A wife? Don't make me laugh. You're nothing but a curse. You'll ruin him the way you ruin everything you touch."

I stumbled against the wall, shielding my stomach instinctively. "Stop-please-"

But Margaret struck me again, fists now, not just her palm. Marissa joined in, their jeers blending into a storm of cruelty.

"Ugly-"

"Leech-"

"Curse-"

I curled in on myself, arms wrapped protectively over my belly, tears spilling unchecked.

Finally, Margaret yanked me by the arm and dragged me to the back door. "Out. You're not fit to step foot in this house."

She shoved me onto the patio and slammed the door, locking it behind me.

I collapsed onto the cold stone of the patio, sobs tearing through me. My cheek burned, my arms ached, and all I could think was how careful I had been to shield the life inside me.

Then my phone rang.

I fumbled it from my pocket, my hands shaking. The screen lit with Ethan's name.

I answered, my voice barely a whisper. "Ethan?"

"Ava." His voice was tense. "Where are you?"

"At... home."

"Father wants to see you. Immediately."

My heart leapt into my throat. "Is something wrong?"

He hesitated, his silence louder than words.

"Ethan?"

"Just come. You'll see."

The line went dead.

I wiped my tears, forced myself up, and rushed to the gate.

***

The Sinclair estate was a world away from the Voss mansion. Warm. Elegant. Alive.

I stepped into the dining room to find Father seated at the long oak table, Ethan beside him. Father's sharp eyes softened slightly when he saw me.

"Ava," he said, gesturing to the chair across from him. "It's been too long. Sit. Have lunch with me."

I obeyed, my heart hammering. I hadn't sat across from him in months. My marriage had driven a wedge between us, one I had carved myself by choosing Adrian over his approval.

Plates of roasted chicken and fresh vegetables were placed before us. The smell turned my stomach, but I forced a smile.

Father studied me as I lifted my fork. "How have you been, Ava?"

My throat tightened. The truth screamed inside me-I've been humiliated, beaten, unloved. But I forced the lie out. "I'm fine, Father."

Ethan shifted beside him, his jaw tightening. His eyes cut into me, silently accusing me of cowardice.

Father's gaze lingered, displeasure flickering in his eyes. "You look pale. Tired. Marriage should not strip a woman of her vitality. Are you certain Adrian treats you well?"

"Yes," I said too quickly. "He's just... busy with work."

Silence settled. Father's lips thinned, but he didn't press further. Ethan's glare, however, burned hotter than ever.

When lunch ended, Ethan rose. "I'll drive her home."

"No." I stood quickly, forcing a smile. "I'll get a cab. I don't want to..." cause any more misunderstandings. I thought.

Ethan frowned. "Ava-"

"I'll be fine." My voice cracked, but I turned away before either of them could see the tears brimming in my eyes.

***

The house was quiet when I returned. Too quiet.

I stepped into the living room to find Margaret and Marissa waiting, smug smiles plastered across their faces. Their eyes gleamed with cruel satisfaction.

"Well," Margaret drawled. "Look who decided to return. Did you enjoy your little outing? Did you beg some rich benefactor for pity this time?"

Marissa snickered. "Probably hoping someone would finally take her off Adrian's hands. Poor brother, saddled with a leech."

I stiffened. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Save it," Margaret smirked. She reached into the side table and pulled out a thick envelope. She tossed it at me like trash. "Adrian asked me to give you this."

Confusion gnawed at me as I tore it open.

Panic shot through me. "That's not-"

The words blurred as my vision swam.

Margaret's voice was poison in my ear. "He's finally realized what you are. A curse. A mistake. And now he's correcting it."

"No..." My lips trembled. "He wouldn't-"

Marissa laughed, her eyes gleaming with cruelty. "Oh, he would. He told Mother to make sure you sign it. Said he doesn't want you clinging to him anymore."

My knees buckled. The papers slipped from my hands to the floor.

Adrian. My Adrian.

The man who had once kissed my cheek every morning, who had once held me like I was his world, was now tearing me out of his.

My heart cracked under the weight of it, splintering into pieces too jagged to hold.

Adrian was divorcing me?