Married to the Cold Billionaire

Chapter 3

A violent lurch in her stomach sent Catherine bolting from the bed. She barely made it to the bathroom, her hand clamped over her mouth as she collapsed in front of the sink. She retched until her throat burned, but as had become the agonizing routine, she produced nothing but bitter saliva.

She slumped against the cold porcelain, feeling hollow and dangerously weak. In the silence of the morning, a wave of loneliness crashed over her. She was a wife, yet she was utterly alone. She was carrying his child, yet she felt like a ghost haunting his halls. She didn't expect Travis to love her, but she couldn't fathom how a man could be so indifferent to the life she carried. If he couldn't care for her, couldn't he at least care for the Ashford heir?

Desperate for comfort, she often had to rely on a friend to bring her food or supplies, too afraid to ask for anything in a house that felt like a prison.

When the world finally stopped spinning, Catherine pulled herself up. She was parched, her throat raw from the vomiting. Instead of retreating to the safety of her blankets, she ventured out into the hallway to find some water.

She stepped out just as the door to the master bedroom swung open.

Travis stood there.

The suddenness of the encounter froze them both. But while Catherine’s heart hammered with shock, Travis’s expression rapidly hardened into a mask of cold professionalism. His gaze swept over her, but then it snagged, lingering on her attire. Catherine felt the temperature in the hallway shift as his eyes darkened, fixed intensely on her chest.

Panic flared in her chest. She looked down and a gasp escaped her. She was wearing a thin white nightgown—no bra, no protection. The morning chill and her own agitation had made her n*****s visible through the sheer fabric.

Even without a mirror, she knew her face was a map of crimson. Without a word, she spun on her heel and retreated into her room, slamming the door behind her.

She pressed her palms to her burning cheeks. Why are you so embarrassed? she scolded herself. You’re having a child together. But the logic didn't help. Their only intimate night was a blurred, drunken memory. They were strangers who happened to have shared a bed once, and the shame of it still felt fresh.

Hands trembling, she pulled on a heavy robe and cinched the belt tight before daring to step out again. By the time she reached the stairs, Travis had already moved on.

In the kitchen, the soft clinking of silverware told her he was already at the table.

"Good morning, Ma'am Catherine," Lily, one of the maids, greeted her with a warm smile.

"Good morning, Lily," Catherine replied, her voice still a little breathless.

"Will you also be having your breakfast now?"

Catherine stole a glance toward the dining area. Travis was there, a wall of silence and gravity, ready to start his meal. The smell of the food made her stomach growl with a sudden, fierce hunger, but she hesitated. The memory of her first day in this house stung like a fresh wound. Lily had called her to the table then, too. But the moment Catherine’s weight had touched the chair, Travis had stood up and walked out without a word.

The pity in Lily’s eyes that day had been harder to swallow than the food.

"I'm not hungry yet, Lily," Catherine lied, forcing a small smile even as her stomach protested. She saw the skepticism in Lily’s eyes. The maid knew she was starving. But she was grateful when the woman didn't push. "I just came for some water."

She hurried to the dispenser, the weight of Travis’s presence in the next room feeling like a heavy pressure against her back. She didn't dare look at him again. After a quick swallow of some water, she murmured a polite goodbye to Lily and hurried out, preferring the emptiness of her room to the freezing silence of a breakfast with the man who wished she didn't exist.