Seven years into their marriage, Bella got hit with a truth—Steven had a kid. A six-year-old.

She crouched behind the preschool slide, barely breathing, as Steven bent down to scoop the boy up.

"Daddy, you haven't come to see me in forever."

"Be good, Ollie. Work's been crazy. Listen to your mom, alright?"

Bella froze.

Same face. Same eyes. It was obvious.

Everything about them screamed it—The man who swore he'd love her forever had been cheating on her this whole time.

Steven and Bella weren't just a couple. They were childhood sweethearts.

She once took a knife for him. Nearly died. Lost their baby. Lost the chance to ever have one again.

Steven had held her hand back then, eyes red, saying, "I don't care if we never have kids. As long as I have you, that's enough."

She still heard the shake in his voice.

Now?

Every promise. Every memory. All of it—gone.

Bella Beaufort stumbled back, heart cracking in a thousand pieces.

She couldn't look. Couldn't move. One more second and she'd snap—either scream at him or break down right there in the dirt.

She turned and ran.

At the preschool gate, her bestie—Heidi—was already out of the car the second she saw Bella's face.

"Bella, what happened? Nico said you went back for something—what's going on?"

Nico was Heidi's son. She'd dragged Bella along for the parent-teacher thing.

Bella looked like she'd seen a ghost. Tears blurred her vision.

"I need you to look someone up."

"Who?"

"Steven." Her voice cracked. "He has a son."

***

[Babe, I won't be back for another week. Did you miss me?]

Bella stared at Steven's text as tears slipped down.

Every July, he disappeared for two weeks. Said it was business overseas.

Six years, she never questioned it.

Now? The truth hit like a slap to the face.

He wasn't working. He was with them—his lover and their kid.

If she hadn't gone back for Nico's jacket, she'd still be clueless.

Rain slammed against the windows. Thunder shook the walls. Lightning lit her pale face in the glass.

She flipped through the photos in her hand, shredding herself with them.

Maybe she should've seen it coming.

The Roccas were old-school. They'd never let someone who couldn't have kids into the family.

Unless... this was the plan all along.

And Steven? The guy who swore he'd love her forever?

Where did he fit into that lie?

Her chest ached.

She and Steven had been inseparable since they were kids. Everyone said they were endgame.

At eight, she fell out of a tree. He jumped under her, broke his arm, and still grinned through the pain.

At twelve, she got her first period and ruined her skirt. He noticed and panicked, though he had long known what this was all about.

At eighteen, he risked his life in an illegal race just to win her a ring and propose.

He'd told her, "Bella, I'll love you forever."

That kind of love was wild, reckless—pure. And she'd fallen for it completely.

The night before their wedding, she was kidnapped by one of his enemies. By the time they found her, she was barely breathing.

Steven showed up swinging—broke three ribs getting her out. She took a knife for him.

That was the day she lost her chance at motherhood.

When his mom—Miranda— found out, she tried to split them up.

But Steven, still covered in bruises, locked himself in the Rocca chapel for three days—no food, no sleep. Just rage and heartbreak.

"I'd rather give up this family than give up Bella," he told Miranda.

That's when she finally backed off.

As soon as he healed, they got married. The whole city watched like it was a fairytale.

And still—he betrayed her.

Bella's phone lit up. 'Hubby.'

The name felt like a cruel joke now.

She answered, numb.

"Babe, have you been eating? Did you miss me?" Steven's voice was soft, sweet.

Before, that would've melted her. She'd have answered with love, no hesitation.

Now? If she said a word, she'd fall apart.

"Babe? Something wrong? Don't be scared. I'll come home right now." He was already moving.

She couldn't see him. Not now.

"I'm fine." Her voice was dry, cracked. "Just a cold. Work's important—don't come back."

Her first lie to him.

He didn't catch on. He hesitated, like something felt off, but still hovered.

"Alright. Get some rest. Call me later, okay? Don't make me worry."

"Mm." It was all she could manage.

Just as Bella went to hang up, a woman's voice cut through the line—flirty, smug.

"Steven, Ollie's asleep. We can..."

Steven's breathing shifted—faster, heavier.

Then the call dropped.

Bella's grip on her phone tightened, knuckles white. A chill crawled over her skin.

He was with that woman.

Bella didn't let herself think past that.

A sob ripped through her chest, brutal and raw. Like her heart had been crushed in someone's fist.

She'd tried to believe he only saw the woman for the kid.

But now?

He'd made his choice.

Heidi burst in, eyes wide, but stopped cold when she saw Bella—shaking, shattered.

"It's not worth it, Bella. Not for a man."

Tears hit the photo in Bella's hand, blurring it.

Heidi pulled her close, voice sharp with fury.

"Steven's trash. He fed you all those sweet lines when he proposed—and now he's hiding a whole family behind your back?"

Bella shut her eyes, letting the tears fall.

Her heart had already decided.

The rain cleared by morning.

Bella hadn't slept a minute.

All night, her head spun. She'd seen love at its purest—how could she ever settle for a heart that had already changed?

She was Bella, the girl who once loved Steven with everything she had.

But she was also Bella Beaufort, the Beaufort heiress. She couldn't stomach even a grain of deceit.

With that resolve, she made a call.

"Dad, remember how Beaufort Corp wanted to expand into Inglane? Heidi's husband's from the royal family there, and she's heading back in a couple weeks with her kid. I want to go with her and check things out."

Jonathan frowned. "Did Steven tell you to bring this up?"

"No. This time it's my choice." She let out a bitter smile.

Even her own dad saw her and Steven as one.

Jonathan was thrown. His daughter had never once left that Rocca boy's side. Why was she suddenly set on going so far away?

"Bella, did Steven hurt you?" His tone sharpened.

Bella pressed her lips together.

"Dad, don't ask right now. Once I'm in Inglane, I'll explain everything."

The Rocca and Beaufort families had been tied together for generations, their marriage sealing the bond even tighter. She refused to drag her family into the fallout.

In the end, Jonathan gave in. "Alright. Come by Beaufort Corp later and get familiar with the plans."

Bella nodded and hung up. She dragged herself out of bed to wash up. Her eyes were swollen, and the bitterness in her chest wouldn't quit.

The lawyer had already sent over the divorce papers, but she still hadn't figured out how to tell Steven. After all those years, it wasn't something she could just toss aside.

She covered the tear-stains with makeup, slipped into a crisp, professional outfit, and stepped out.

Downstairs, Heidi was having breakfast with Nico. Bella figured she'd scared him yesterday.

"Aunt Bella, you're up!" Nico ran over, grabbed her hand. “Mom said your heart was sad yesterday. I can make it better!”

Six-year-olds—too sweet for this world. Bella brushed his cheek. “Good boy. I’m okay now. Go back to your mom.”

He nodded, still confused, then skipped back to Heidi.

Bella's mind flashed to Steven laughing with that other boy yesterday.

If their baby had lived, they'd be older than him by now.

She forced down the ache, gave Heidi a quick explanation, and slipped out of the house.

But the second she stepped past the gates, she froze.

Steven leaned against the car, looking wrecked, a cigarette hanging from his lips. Smoke blurred his face.

Bella's chest clenched. The records showed his side chick—Ada Fowler—and her son both had July birthdays. Ada's just passed—the boy's was still coming. So why was Steven back already?

Her stare must've given her away. Steven looked up, confused at first, then his tired eyes lit up when he saw her.

He crossed the distance fast and yanked her into his arms.

The heat of him used to mean comfort. Now it burned.

"Feeling better?" His voice was soft, loaded with worry. "I heard you yesterday and knew something was off. I drove back overnight. When you weren't home, I guessed you'd be here with Heidi."

He really did sound worried.

But Bella couldn't wrap her head around it. If he'd loved her that much, how could he live so easily with another woman and a kid?

Her lips shook. She swallowed the bitterness and forced out, "I'm fine. I was just heading home."

Steven let out a breath. "Next time you're sick, tell me. Don't scare me like that."

His voice was so soft, so gentle, it almost tricked her into thinking nothing had changed.

Then Bella caught movement—a slim figure under a tree.

Ada. On her phone.

A beat later, Steven's cell lit up. He checked the screen, hesitation flashing across his face. "Something urgent at work. I need to handle it."

Bella's stomach dropped.

She wasn't stupid. She'd seen the name: Ada.

The bitterness burned, but she forced a smile. "Go ahead. Work comes first."

Guilt flickered in his eyes before he pressed a kiss to her forehead and slid into the car.

The second he got in, Ada ended her call. She swayed her way over, smirking. "Hi, I'm Ada Fowler. I'm—"

Her eyes caught Bella's tight expression, and the words shifted.

"So, you already know about me and Ollie. Perfect. Enjoy the show."

Bella grabbed a cab and tailed Ada in silence.

At the hospital, she stopped at the doorway, the scene inside slicing through her chest like glass.

She bit down hard on her lip, forcing herself not to make a sound.

Steven's son lay hooked up to an IV. His little face was pale, fragile, heartbreakingly weak.

Steven was pacing, agitated. "What the hell is wrong with you people? You can't even treat a kid's fever?"

The doctor at the bed—Bella knew him. Jeffrey. Steven's closest friend.

"Steven, the kid's got a cold and a fever from a chill," Jeffrey snapped. "If you can't handle it, don't rip into my staff.

"And seriously, I don't get you. Didn't you say you'd pay that woman off once the kid was born? Now one sniffle and you're dragging me here? What if Bella finds out?"

Silence stretched before Steven finally spoke, voice rough, worn down. "What do you expect me to do? He's just a kid. Every time I try to send Ada away, Ollie cries nonstop. I can't let him cry forever, can I?"

Jeffrey let out a sharp laugh. "Please. Is it really the kid who can't let go, or is it you? You know damn well which one."

Steven groaned, rubbing his forehead. "Don't start. I've only ever loved Bella. But my family needs an heir. You have to keep this from her—I won't let her get hurt. And Ada... she gave me a child. I can't just throw her aside."

Right then, the door creaked open. Ada slipped in, tears streaking her face.

"Steven, it's all my fault. I didn't take care of Ollie. He spiked a fever after you left last night. He cried for you the whole time, but I didn't want to disturb you and your wife..."

Steven pressed a hand to the boy's burning forehead and sighed, his anger fading.

He pulled Ada against him. "Don't cry. I'm not blaming you. This is on me—I haven't been a good dad."

Ada clutched his shirt, fingers tracing his chest. "I know I'll never compare to your wife, but I can't stand seeing our son like this..."

Steven's eyes hardened. "No one gets to make my son suffer. And you—take care of yourself. Look at you, crying your eyes out."

He reached up and brushed a tear from her cheek. The softness of it cut straight through Bella's chest.

Her fists clenched so tight her nails carved crescents into her palms—yet she felt nothing.

Or maybe nothing could ever hurt worse than this.

The rain was coming down hard when Bella left the hospital.

Soaked and half-numb, she drifted through the storm like a ghost. Water blurred her eyes, but it couldn't wash off the shame burning under her skin.

By the time she reached Beaufort Corp, her heels had torn up her ankles—blood mixing with rain on her skin.

The receptionist froze, then sprinted over. "Ms. Beaufort! What happened? Should I call Mr. Rocca? He'd freak if he saw you like this."

Bella didn't flinch. Of course they thought Steven still loved her. Everyone did.

But love like his? Built on lies.

She brushed past the receptionist, voice rough. "I'm fine. Rain caught me off guard. Grab me a clean outfit."

She slid her black card into the girl's hand and locked herself inside the nearest meeting room.

The second the door shut, Bella crumbled.

She thought those photos had numbed her. But seeing them in real life—Steven, Ada, and that kid playing happy family—ripped her wide open.

Her sobs filled the room, raw and messy. She wanted to scream. How could he be the same guy who once promised forever and now raise a kid with someone else?

A knock snapped her out of it.

The hallway was empty. Just a stack of clean clothes, her black card, and a warm cup of tea sitting at the door.

Underneath the cup: a handwritten note. [Ms. Beaufort, don't worry. I didn't call Mr. Rocca. I know you don't want him to worry.]

Bella's jaw clenched. She ripped the note to pieces and dumped it in the trash.

Clothes in hand, she changed in the restroom. A little while later, the Beaufort heiress was back—flawless, untouchable.

She marched into the CEO's office and threw herself into work. No breaks. No distractions.

Steven kept texting. She didn't open a single one.

By evening, drained and cold, she headed home—ready to pack up and disappear first thing in the morning.

But the second she stepped inside, a kid's voice called out from the living room—and there was Ada, standing like she belonged.