"He thinks I'm you?," I asked, my voice shaking.

The room suddenly felt cold. I looked at the door, half-expecting someone to burst in.

Zyran's expression turned serious. He grabbed his phone and quickly dialed a number.

"Security," he said sharply. "Code Red, I need four men at my wife's door right now and check the parking lot."

He hung up and turned to Mina. She was shivering, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Mina, sit down," Zyran said gently. "He won't touch her and he won't touch you."

"I'm so sorry, Zyran," Mina cried. "I didn't mean to create this trouble for your family. I should just leave. I should let him find me."

"Don't be foolish," Zyran said, but he squeezed her shoulder. "You are not going anywhere. You are family."

I stared at him, confused. "Family?"

Zyran looked at me, his eyes serious. "Roosevelt, I didn't have time to explain earlier. Mina isn't just a college friend, we grew up on the same street. She has known me since I was five."

He glanced at Mina with a protective look. "She used to play dolls with my big sister, Clara. My mother loves Mina like a daughter. If anything happened to her, my mother would never forgive me."

I felt a strange ache in my heart. I knew Zyran's mother was tough. She hardly ever smiled at me. But she loved Mina?

"I had no idea," I whispered.

"There's a lot you don't know," Zyran said, sounding weary. "But I promised my family I would always look out for her. I keep my promises."

Suddenly, a loud noise echoed from the hallway.

"Move! Get out of my way!" a woman's voice shouted.

The door swung open. A woman with bright red hair and a fierce look stormed in, she wore mismatched sneakers and a large coat.

It was Nixie, my best friend.

"Roosevelt!" Nixie yelled. Ignoring Zyran, she ran straight to my bed and grabbed my face in her hands. "I saw the news! Someone posted a picture of Zyran carrying you into the ER! Are you okay? Tell me you're okay!"

"I'm okay, Nix," I managed a weak smile. Seeing her made me feel safer. "It was just... a fall."

Nixie sighed with relief and hugged me tightly. Then she pulled back and shot an angry look at Zyran.

"You!" she said, pointing a finger at his chest. "You are supposed to protect her, Mr. Billionaire! How does she fall down the stairs on your anniversary?"

Zyran crossed his arms. "It was an accident, Nixie. Lower your voice."

Nixie's eyes narrowed, she glanced past Zyran and saw Mina sitting in the corner, looking small in her dirty dress.

"Who is this ghost?" Nixie asked bluntly.

"This is Mina," Zyran said, standing between Nixie and Mina. "She's a guest. She's having a tough time."

Nixie examined Mina. Nixie had a knack for spotting when someone was pretending, she squinted.

"Mina," Nixie asked slowly, "why are you wearing Roosevelt's robe?"

Mina flinched and looked at Zyran with big, teary eyes. "My clothes were burned. Zyran gave it to me."

"Nixie, stop it," I said softly. I didn't want a confrontation. Not now. "Mina is in danger. Her ex-boyfriend is after her."

"And now he is after Roosevelt," Zyran added grimly.

Nixie's face paled. She looked at me, then at the door. "Wait. You're telling me that because of her problems, my best friend is a target?"

"We're handling it," Zyran said. "I'm moving both of them to the Safe House tonight. No one gets in."

"The Safe House?" I asked. "But Zyran, I just want to go home."

"Home isn't safe, Roosevelt," Zyran replied firmly. "The address is public, the Safe House is the only choice."

He walked to the window and peered through the blinds. His back went tense.

"Damn it," Zyran cursed.

"What?" I asked, my heart racing.

Zyran turned. His face was serious.

"Security just radioed in," he said. "A black van just crashed through the hospital gate. Men in masks are getting out."

He looked at me, then at Mina.

"He's here."

The fear didn't last long.

Zyran's security team was impressive. Before the masked men could reach the hospital doors, five black SUVs surrounded them. We watched from the window as police cars flooded the parking lot. Mina's ex-boyfriend was handcuffed and shoved into a police car within ten minutes.

"It's over," Zyran said, closing the blinds. "He's going to jail for a long time, you are safe now."

Mina sobbed with relief, but I felt drained. I wanted to go home. Instead, Zyran took us to his Safe House-a huge, modern mansion on the edge of the city. It looked cold and fortress-like.

By the time we settled in, it was past midnight. Nixie had gone to a guest room to call her husband, leaving me alone with Zyran and Mina in the kitchen.

My ankle throbbed, and my stomach felt tight. I sat on a barstool, watching Zyran. He had removed his suit jacket and was rolling up his sleeves. He opened the fridge and pulled out some eggs and vegetables.

"I'll make something simple," Zyran said, glancing at me. "You need to eat before you take your medicine, Roosevelt."

A small warmth filled my chest. "Thank you, Zyran. You don't have to-"

"Zyran!"

Mina's shrill voice cut through the air. She entered the kitchen, wearing fresh clothes that the housekeeper had found for her. She looked at Zyran holding the frying pan and gasped, horrified.

"Why would you offer to cook, Zyran?" she said, walking over and trying to take the pan from him. "Cooking is a domestic chore, It's meant for women."

I blinked, stunned. Was she serious?

Mina didn't look at me. She focused on Zyran, speaking softly. "You see, I've had a hard day. I'm traumatized. I'm so tired I can barely move, or else I would do it. But you, you're a billionaire CEO, running a company is tough. You deserve to rest."

She finally turned her head and glared at me. Her eyes were cold, but her voice stayed sweet for Zyran's sake.

"Roosevelt should do the cooking," Mina said, pointing at me. "She seems so energetic, she was ready to fight me on the stairs earlier. That energy should be used to make us dinner. Besides, isn't she an interior designer? She's practically a domestic worker, she knows how to serve."

I was stunned. I sat there with my mouth slightly open. I had nearly lost my baby tonight. I could barely walk on my swollen ankle. And this woman wanted me to serve her?

Zyran stiffened. He set the pan down on the counter with a loud thud.

"She didn't ask me to cook, Mina," Zyran said, his voice low and firm. "I did it willingly, she is my wife, watch your words."

I felt a flicker of gratitude. At least he defended me this time.

But Mina didn't back down. She looked hurt, as if Zyran had slapped her. Tears filled her eyes.

"You've changed, Zyran," she cried. "This isn't you. What has that woman done to you?"

She stepped closer to him, ignoring me completely.

"What were you thinking when you married someone as tough and cold as Roosevelt?" Mina asked, sniffling. "She is mean and lacks sympathy. Didn't you notice how little she cared about me being homeless tonight? She wanted to send me to a hotel! She's not only mean, but inconsiderate too."

"Mina..." Zyran warned.

"I'm just telling the truth!" Mina sobbed. "For someone with a rough past, she shouldn't interfere with us. Remember how we used to be? You were never this soft, you were strong."

She reached out and placed her small hand on Zyran's chest, over his heart.

"Let me cook," she whispered. "I might be tired, but I won't let a King work in the kitchen while his capable wife sits there like a statue."

Zyran looked at her hand on his chest. Then he turned his gaze to me.

I waited for him to push her away. I waited for him to kick her out.

Instead, Zyran sighed. He gently took Mina's hand off his chest, but he didn't seem angry at her anymore. He looked conflicted.

"Go to bed, Mina," he said softly. "I will bring some food up to your room."

Mina smirked at me over Zyran's shoulder. It was a quick, victorious look before she turned back to him and nodded.

"Okay, Zyran. But only because you asked," she whispered.

She turned and walked out of the kitchen, leaving a heavy silence behind her.

Zyran picked up the pan again and cracked an egg into it. He didn't look at me.

"She is just stressed," he muttered, more to himself than to me.

I gripped the edge of the marble counter. My knuckles turned white. He was still making excuses for her.

"Zyran," I said quietly. "We need to talk."

"Not tonight, Roosevelt," he interrupted. "I am tired. Let's just eat."

He plated the eggs and slid a plate toward me. But as I picked up my fork, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

It was a text message from an unknown number.

I opened it, and my blood ran cold. It was a photo of Zyran and Mina from years ago, looking very much in love.

And underneath, a message read:

He promised his mother he would take care of me. Do you really think a 'wife' can break a promise made to family? Enjoy the eggs. I'll enjoy him later.

The sun was shining through the heavy curtains of the guest bedroom, but I felt like I was under a dark cloud.

I stared at my phone screen, the message from the unknown number was still there. The picture of Zyran and Mina looking so happy together mocked me. "I'll enjoy him later."

"Stop looking at it," a voice said sharply.

I looked up. Nixie walked into the room carrying a tray with toast, fruit, and a glass of milk. She looked angry, but her eyes softened when she met my gaze.

"You didn't sleep at all, did you?" she asked, setting the tray down on the bed.

"I couldn't," I admitted, sitting up slowly. My body felt heavy. My ankle was stiff, wrapped in a bandage, and my stomach felt tender. "Nixie, that text message... do you think they are...?"

"Sleeping together?" Nixie finished for me. She sat on the edge of the bed and sighed. "Honestly, Rose? I don't know. Men can be clueless. But Zyran isn't the type to cheat. He's too concerned about his reputation and his 'principles.'"

She picked up an apple slice, pointing it at me. "But that doesn't mean Mina isn't trying. She's a snake and your husband is letting her crawl all over your marriage because of a promise he made to his mother."

I rubbed my temples. "He feels responsible for her. He said she is like family."

"You are his family!" Nixie snapped. "You are his wife! And you are carrying his-"

She stopped and lowered her voice to a whisper. "You are carrying his child, Roosevelt. You have to tell him, you can't keep this a secret forever."

"I know," I whispered back, looking at the glass of milk. "But not yet. Did you see how he looked at her last night? He defended her. If I tell him now, he might think I am just using the baby to get rid of her. Or worse, Mina might find out and try to hurt the baby."

Nixie looked horrified. "You really think she would go that low?"

"She pushed me down the stairs, Nixie," I said flatly. "I don't put anything past her."

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

Nixie stood up and crossed her arms, putting on her "battle face."

"Come in," I called out.

The door opened and Zyran stepped inside. He wore a grey suit, looking impeccable as always. He smelled of expensive cologne and coffee. He didn't look like a man who had been dealing with police and stalkers all night.

He glanced at Nixie, then at me.

"Good morning," he said. His voice was calm and professional. "How is the ankle?"

"It's fine," I lied. It throbbed with every heartbeat.

"Good," Zyran said, checking his watch. "I have to go to the office for a few hours. There is a board meeting I cannot miss. Security is outside the door. No one comes in or out without my permission."

"You're leaving?" I asked, feeling a spike of anxiety. "Zyran, we are in a Safe House. Is it safe for you to go?"

"I have security with me," he assured me. He took a step closer to the bed but stopped a few feet away. "Mina is coming with me."

Nixie scoffed loudly. "Of course she is. Does she have a board seat now, too?"

Zyran shot Nixie a cold glare. "Mina needs new identification papers. Her documents were destroyed in the fire. My assistant is meeting us at the office to sort it out. I can't leave her here alone."

"She wouldn't be alone," Nixie argued. "Roosevelt is here."

"That is exactly why I am taking her," Zyran said, looking back at me. "I don't want any more 'accidents' while I am gone. It's better if you two are separated."

I felt a lump form in my throat. He was separating us, but he chose to take her with him. He was leaving his injured, pregnant wife in a strange house so he could babysit his ex.

"Fine," I said, looking down at my hands. "Do what you have to do."

Zyran hesitated. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something else. He noticed the bandage on my ankle, and his hand twitched at his side.

"I will be back for dinner," he said finally. "Please... just rest. Don't stress yourself."

He turned and walked out the door.

I listened to his footsteps fade down the hallway. I heard Mina's voice downstairs, high and happy, and then the front door closed.

Nixie sat back down on the bed and took a bite of the apple aggressively.

"He is an idiot," she declared. "A handsome, rich, colossal idiot."

"I know," I said, picking up the glass of milk. I forced myself to drink it. I had to be strong. Not for Zyran, and not for me. But for the little life growing inside me.

"So, what is the plan?" Nixie asked. "We can't just sit here and wait for them to come back."

I wiped my mouth and looked at my friend. The sadness was still there, but a bit of fire was starting to burn in my chest again.

"No," I said. "We aren't going to just sit. I need to make a call. If Zyran is going to prioritize his 'old friend,' then I need to protect myself."

"Who are you calling?" Nixie asked.

"My lawyer," I said simply. "I need to know what my options are. Just in case."

Nixie nodded approvingly. "That's my girl."

We sat there in the quiet room, eating toast and planning, while my husband drove away with the woman who wanted to destroy me.

Two days later, the swelling in my ankle had gone down enough for me to walk without limping. The doctor said the baby was stable, but I still felt a constant, low hum of anxiety in my chest.

I couldn't stay in the Safe House anymore. The walls were too gray, and the silence was too loud. Every time I saw Mina, she would give me a little smile that didn't reach her eyes, or she would be whispering to Zyran in a corner.

I needed to breathe. I needed to be me again.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Nixie asked, zipping up her overnight bag. She was going back to her own husband and kids.

"I have to be," I said, smoothing down my skirt. "I have a presentation for the Henderson account today. If I stay here, I'll go crazy."

Nixie hugged me tight. "Call me if the 'Ghost' tries anything. I mean it, Rose."

"I will," I promised.

After Nixie left, I called a car. I didn't ask Zyran for permission. I just sent him a text, Going to the office. I have work to do.

Walking into my design firm, Elite Interiors, felt like coming up for air. The smell of fresh coffee and drafting paper calmed me instantly. My assistant, Sarah, rushed over as soon as I stepped off the elevator.

"Mrs. King! We didn't expect you back so soon," Sarah said, looking relieved. "We have been trying to manage the Henderson file, but they are asking for you specifically."

"I'm here now," I said, walking into my office. I ran my hand over my desk. This was my kingdom. Here, I wasn't the neglected wife or the clumsy pregnant woman. I was Roosevelt King, the top interior designer in the city.

I worked for four hours straight. I lost myself in fabric swatches, color palettes, and blueprints. For a little while, I forgot about Mina.

Then, my office phone rang.

"Mrs. King?" Sarah's voice came through the intercom. "Mr. King is on line one, he says it's urgent."

My stomach tightened. L Was it Mina?

I picked up the phone. "Zyran? Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine," Zyran's deep voice filled my ear. He sounded calm, but there was a hesitation in his tone that I wasn't used to. "I saw your text. I'm glad you felt well enough to go in."

"I needed the distraction," I said honestly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong," he said. "Actually, I have a favor to ask. A business favor."

I sat up straighter. Zyran respected my work. He never asked for favors unless it was important.

"Okay," I said. "What do you need?"

"I just closed a deal on a new property," Zyran said. "It's a luxury condo in the city center. It needs a complete interior redesign. Furniture, paint, everything and it needs to be done fast. Within two weeks."

"Two weeks is a tight deadline, Zyran," I said, grabbing a pen. "But for you, I can pull some strings. Is this for a client? Or an investment property?"

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. I could hear Zyran breathing.

"It's not for an investor," he finally said. "I bought it for Mina."

My pen froze on the paper.

"Mina?" I whispered.

"She can't stay at the Safe House forever," Zyran explained quickly. "And she can't go back to her old neighborhood. It's not safe. So, I bought her a place. A fresh start."

I felt the blood drain from my face. He bought her a condo? A luxury condo?

"And you want me to design it?" I asked, my voice trembling with disbelief.

"You are the best designer I know, Roosevelt," Zyran said. "Mina has been through a lot. I want her to have a place that feels peaceful. She admires your taste, she actually suggested it."

She suggested it.

Of course she did. She didn't want a home, she wanted to see if I would bow down and serve her. She wanted me to pick out the curtains for the house my husband bought her.

"Zyran, I don't think-"

"Please, Roosevelt," he interrupted. His voice was soft and pleading. "I just want to get her settled so things can go back to normal for us. If you do this, she will be out of our hair. We can focus on our marriage. On us."

I stared at the blank notepad in front of me.

My heart was screaming no. It was humiliating. It was wrong.

But if I said no, I would look like the jealous, petty wife he accused me of being. If I said no, he would hire someone else, and he would still spend time checking on the project.

But if I said yes... I would be building a nest for the woman who was trying to steal my life.

"Roosevelt?" Zyran asked. "Will you do it?"

I gripped the phone tight, my knuckles turning white. I had to make a choice. Save my pride or play the game to get my husband back?

"Send me the address," I said.

My body ached. The excitement of being back at work had faded, replaced by a dull throb in my ankle and the exhaustion of hiding a pregnancy.

I unlocked the heavy front door of the Safe House, expecting silence and a cold, empty hallway.

Instead, laughter filled the air.

"Oh, look at you! You are still as beautiful as a doll, Mina!"

"Stop it, Clara! You are making me blush."

My hand froze on the doorknob. That was Zyran's sister, Clara. The other voice, the deep, commanding one belonged to his mother, Beatrice.

I took a deep breath. Just be polite, I told myself, be the good wife.

I walked into the living room. The sight before me made my stomach drop.

Mina sat in the center of the plush velvet sofa, wrapped in a cashmere blanket I recognized, it was a gift Zyran had given his mother last Christmas. Beatrice held Mina's hand on one side while Clara was on the other, brushing a stray lock of hair from Mina's face.

Zyran stood by the fireplace, watching them with a soft, relieved expression. He looked like a man at peace.

I felt like an intruder in my own marriage.

"Good evening," I said, my voice sounding too loud in the warm room.

The laughter stopped instantly.

Beatrice turned her head. Her eyes, identical to Zyran's but devoid of warmth, swept over me. She didn't smile.

"You're back," Beatrice said flatly. "We were wondering when you would join us. Zyran said you were at the office."

"Yes," I said, stepping further into the room. "I had some urgent work to finish."

"Work," Clara scoffed. She didn't even look at me; her attention was on Mina. "Always chasing a career. Meanwhile, poor Mina has been through a living hell, she needs family, not business plans."

"I... I am family too, Clara," I said softly.

Beatrice ignored my response and turned back to Mina, squeezing her hand. "My poor dear. When Zyran told us about the fire, I nearly had a heart attack. You know you are always welcome at the manor, you didn't have to suffer alone."

Mina sniffed, wiping a fake tear from her eye. "I know, Auntie Beatrice. But I didn't want to be a burden. I know Zyran is... married now."

She said the word married like it was a disease.

"Oh, hush," Beatrice said, waving her hand dismissively. "Marriage is just paper. History is what matters. You have been part of us since you were in pigtails, that hasn't changed."

I looked at Zyran, waiting for him to step in, waiting for him to say, "Actually, Mother, Roosevelt is my wife and she is important too."

But Zyran just nodded. "Mother is right, Mina. You aren't a burden."

A sting of tears welled up, but I blinked them away. I walked over to the armchair where my purse rested.

"Did you bring these?" I asked, noticing a pile of gift bags on the coffee table from high-end boutiques-Gucci, Chanel, La Perla.

"Mina lost everything in the fire," Clara said defensively. "We couldn't let her walk around in rags. We brought her some essentials."

"Essentials?" I looked at the Chanel bag. "That's very generous of you."

"Well, someone has to look after her," Beatrice snapped. She finally made eye contact with me. "Zyran told us you are designing her new apartment. I hope you aren't charging him for it. It's the least you can do after she was almost thrown out onto the street."

My jaw tightened. "I am doing it as a favor, Beatrice. I am not charging a dime."

"Good," Beatrice said, turning her back to me again. "Now, Mina, tell me... do you remember that summer at the lake house? When you and Zyran got lost in the woods?"

Mina giggled, her face lighting up. "I remember! Zyran carried me on his back for three miles because I scraped my knee."

"He was always your protector," Clara sighed dreamily. "You two were inseparable, everyone thought..."

Clara stopped, glancing at me, then smirked. "Well, everyone thought a lot of things."

I stood there, invisible. They were rewriting history right in front of me, erasing four years of my marriage and replacing it with their nostalgia.

"I'm going to go upstairs," I announced. "My ankle is sore."

No one answered. Beatrice was too busy pulling a diamond bracelet out of her purse to show Mina.

"This was meant for your birthday years ago," Beatrice whispered to Mina, loud enough for me to hear. "I kept it. I knew you would come back to us."

I turned and walked toward the stairs. My heart felt heavy, like a stone in my chest. They didn't even ask how I was. They didn't notice the bandage on my leg. And they certainly didn't know about the grandchild I was carrying, the grandchild that was currently less important to them than Mina's scraped knee from twenty years ago.

As I reached the first step, I heard Mina's soft voice.

"Don't be too hard on Roosevelt, Auntie. She is working so hard to fix my new house. She is very... obedient."

Beatrice laughed

"Every house needs a decorator, darling. But it takes a lady to make a home."

I closed the bedroom door and leaned against it, letting out a long, shaky breath. The sound of their laughter drifted up from the living room, warm and comfortable like a melody I didn't know the lyrics to.

My stomach churned, a mix of hunger and morning sickness. I walked to my drawer and quickly opened my purse, searching for my prenatal vitamins. I shook two pills into my hand, my fingers trembling slightly.

Suddenly, the doorknob turned.

I gasped and quickly shoved the pills into my mouth, swallowing them dry. I tossed the bottle back into my purse and snapped it shut just as the door opened.

It was Beatrice.

She didn't knock. She walked in, her pearls clicking softly against her silk blouse, and scanned the room with a critical eye as if checking for dust.

"Zyran left his gold watch up here," she said, her voice cool and detached. "He needs it. He wants to show it to Mina. It matches the bracelet I gave her."

I stood up, smoothing down my skirt. "I haven't seen it... Mom. But I can help you look."

Beatrice stiffened slightly at the word 'Mom.' She didn't yell, but her expression tightened as if she had just tasted a lemon.

"You don't need to help," she said, walking over to the nightstand. "And Beatrice is fine, Roosevelt. We don't need to force intimacy where there is none."

I bit my lip. "I just want us to get along for Zyran's sake."

Beatrice opened the top drawer of the nightstand. She found the watch immediately and picked it up, polishing the face with her thumb.

"We get along fine," she said dismissively. "You are a polite girl. You have a job, and you keep Zyran fed. But you must understand... seeing Mina again reminds us of a different time. A time when Zyran was truly... alive."

She turned to leave, but her eyes landed on the desk by the window. I had left the file for the new condo project open. The blueprints were spread out, the address printed clearly at the top.

Beatrice walked over to the desk and looked down at the papers.

"So," she said, tapping a manicured fingernail on the blueprint, "this is the apartment you are designing for her?"

"Yes," I said, walking over. "Zyran bought it today. It's a rush job, but I'm going to make it beautiful. I want her to feel comfortable."

Beatrice read the address on the paper: 1402 Lakeview Drive, Penthouse B.

She froze.

A strange, quiet smile touched her lips. It wasn't a mean smile, exactly. It was a smile of pity.

"Oh," she whispered. "Oh, Roosevelt."

"What is it?" I asked, feeling a knot form in my stomach. "Is it a bad neighborhood? I can tell Zyran to look for something else."

Beatrice shook her head slowly, looking at me.

"You really don't know, do you?" she asked softly. "You poor thing, you actually think he went out and bought this place today?"

"He told me he just closed the deal," I said defensively.

"Zyran bought this penthouse five years ago," Beatrice said, her tone matter-of-fact. "He bought it the month before Mina left him. He hired an architect and spent months planning every detail. It was supposed to be their marital home. Their dream house."

The air left my lungs.

"No," I whispered. "That can't be true. He said it was a new investment."

"He never sold it," Beatrice said as she glanced at the blueprints. "He kept it empty all these years. He paid the taxes, managed the maintenance, and left it waiting. Just like he left his heart waiting."

She picked up the watch and walked to the door. With her hand on the knob, she turned back to me one last time.

"He isn't asking you to design a new home for an old friend, Roosevelt," she said. "He is asking you to finish the nest he built for the love of his life."

She closed the door, leaving me alone in silence.

I stared at the blueprints. The lines on the paper suddenly looked like prison bars.

Zyran hadn't just bought a condo. He was moving her into the home he had built for her. He had held onto it for five years.

And the most frightening question wasn't why he kept it.

The question was... if that was their home, then what was I living in?