A broken sob slipped past my lips as I curled tighter on the floor, fingernails digging into my palms. I had been so foolish. So blindly in love.
And now I was here—being punished for something I never did.
I must have drifted into an exhausted sleep, because the next thing I heard was the sound of something clattering beside me. A plate had landed roughly on the floor, food scattering across the marble. Some of it rolled beneath the furniture.
Lucien stood over me, his expression unreadable—hardened by fury or apathy, I didn’t know which.
“I told you to eat,” he said sharply. “You think starving yourself will fix anything?”
I opened my mouth, but before a single word could leave, the butler cautiously stepped forward.
“Sir… she’s pregnant. She’s not well. We should call someone. A doctor, maybe—”
“Shut up,” Lucien snapped, his voice turning to ice. “You open your mouth for her again, and you’ll be looking for a new job.”
The butler shrank back, eyes lowered in submission.
Lucien’s attention shifted back to me, his eyes cold and brimming with disdain. “Eat it. Off the floor. Or don’t. I don’t care if you starve.”
His words hit me like a slap, but I didn’t flinch. I had no strength left for anger.
My hands curled into fists. I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to throw the plate back and tell him he wasn’t a god. But instead, I forced myself to speak, my voice nothing but air.
“Let’s just get a divorce.”
“Divorce, you say?”
Lucien let out a cold, mirthless chuckle that sliced through the thick tension like a dagger. His eyes sparkled—not with humor, but with malice thinly veiled as amusement.
“You think you can just walk away from me?” he said, stepping closer. The shadow he cast loomed over my crumpled body. “No, Mara. You don’t get to make that choice.”
I swallowed the fear crawling up my throat, forcing myself to sit upright even though my limbs shook beneath me. Deep down, I had known he wouldn’t agree to a divorce. But hearing the words from his mouth, seeing the way he loomed like a predator—sent a fresh wave of dread through my veins.
“Get up,” he barked, voice sharp with irritation. “You still owe Vanessa an apology.”
Apologize? My entire body went still. The audacity of it struck me like a blow. He wanted me to apologize—to her?
I barely found the strength to whisper, “I didn’t do anything… She threw herself. It was a setup.”