Chapter 11
1459 Words
Lora’s POV
The Grayson mansion was too quiet the next morning. It wasn’t the peaceful kind of quiet, and it wasn’t the type of peaceful that comforts.
This silence felt watchful.
I opened my eyes slowly, disoriented for a moment by the unfamiliar ceiling above me. Sunlight spilled through the tall windows in soft streaks, illuminating the enormous bedroom in pale gold. Everything looked expensive.
And none of it felt like mine.
I pushed myself up carefully, wincing faintly when the movement tugged at the bandage beneath my shirt. The events of yesterday came back too quickly after that. Vivian. Chloe. Jackson. The hospital.
Drake.
A quiet rustle made me lift my head.
He was standing near the windows, already dressed in a dark suit, one hand adjusting the cuff of his watch. Morning light carved sharp lines across his face, making him look colder than ever.
For a second, I simply watched him.
Looking at him still felt unreal. The stranger from Murphy’s Bar had somehow become my husband and every time I looked at him, I remembered he was also the father of the child I was desperately trying to hide.
The thought made my stomach tighten uneasily.
His eyes lifted suddenly, catching me staring.
“You’re awake.”
His voice was calm, smooth, carrying the same controlled restraint he always seemed wrapped in.
“I didn’t realize you were still here,” I admitted softly.
“I was about to leave.”
Something about that answer unsettled me more than it should have so, I looked away first.
A faint wave of nausea rolled through me without warning. My stomach twisted violently enough to make me press my lips together.
Not now.
I forced myself to breathe through it quietly, but the movement must have caught his attention because his expression sharpened slightly.
“You don’t look well.”
“I’m fine.” The lie came automatically now.
His gaze lingered on me for a moment longer before he spoke again.
“There’s a family brunch downstairs in an hour.”
Every muscle in my body tightened immediately.
Of course there was.
I nodded slowly. “Alright.”
“You don’t have to look terrified.”
My eyes lifted to his again.
“I’m not terrified.”
One corner of his mouth almost moved, but not quite enough to become a smile.
“That’s good,” he said calmly. “Because fear is very noticeable in this house.”
Before I could respond, a knock sounded at the door.
A maid entered carefully, bowing slightly. “Mrs. Grayson asked me to assist Madam with getting ready.”
I swallowed quietly.
Drake noticed.
“Take your time,” he said before walking toward the door.
The words sounded casual, but his eyes remained on me a second too long before he left the room.
The door closed softly behind him.
……………………
The dining room looked like something out of a magazine.
The table alone was larger than my old apartment, covered with polished silverware, crystal glasses, and enough food to feed twenty people.
Yet despite all the beauty surrounding it, the atmosphere felt suffocating.
Vivian sat elegantly at one end of the table beside William, her expression warm and graceful as servants moved around her.
Across from them sat Chloe.
The moment her eyes landed on me, her lips curved slowly. She looked satisfied and I wondered what the reason was.
“Lora,” Vivian greeted smoothly. “You’re looking much better today.”
“I’m feeling better,” I replied politely.
“That’s wonderful.” Her gaze shifted briefly to Drake as he pulled a chair out beside him for me. “Drake was quite concerned yesterday.”
Drake sat beside me calmly, completely unreadable.
A servant immediately poured tea into my cup.
“Thank you,” I murmured softly.
Chloe leaned back lazily in her chair, swirling wine in her glass.
“It really is impressive,” she said lightly. “Some women spend years trying to enter this family. Others manage it overnight.”
The words slid across the table smoothly enough that nobody else reacted.
But I felt them.
Vivian gave a soft laugh. “Chloe.”
“What?” she asked innocently. “I’m complimenting her adaptability.”
I lowered my eyes to my plate, pretending not to care.
Beside me, Drake remained still.
The conversation continued around me, but I barely heard any of it. My stomach churned harder with every passing minute. The smell of the food suddenly became overwhelming.
Rich sauces. Butter. Coffee.
God.
I swallowed hard.
“You haven’t touched your food.” Drake’s quiet observation nearly made me jump.
“I’m just not very hungry.”
“You should still eat.”
Vivian smiled gently across the table. “Drake has always been attentive to the people he cares about.”
The words felt deliberate, like she was aiming to get at something with it.
I picked up my fork and forced myself to take a bite.
The nausea hit instantly. My chair scraped lightly against the floor as I stood too quickly.
“I’m sorry,” I said tightly. “Excuse me.”
Nobody stopped me. But I could feel Chloe watching me as I walked out.
The moment I got into the bathroom in our room, I splashed cold water against my face.
I gripped the edge of the sink tightly, trying to steady my breathing. The bathroom suddenly felt too small and too warm.
I closed my eyes for a moment.
You need to get yourself together.
You cannot fall apart here.
Not in this house.
Not around them.
After a few seconds, I straightened slowly and reached for a towel.
Then the bathroom door opened and Chloe stepped in. She locked the door behind her.
My pulse quickened.
“You know,” she said casually, leaning against the door, “you were never really his type.”
I stared at her quietly.
“Jackson liked soft women. Quiet women. Women who knew their place.”
I swallowed hard but said nothing.
Her smile sharpened slightly.
“But I suppose desperation changes people.”
“I don’t want problems with you,” I said carefully.
“No?” She tilted her head. “That’s funny because problems seem to follow you everywhere.”
I tried to move past her.
She stepped sideways immediately, blocking my path.
“You must feel very proud of yourself,” she continued softly. “From struggling waitress to Mrs. Grayson in less than a month. Honestly, it’s almost inspiring.”
Something inside me tightened painfully.
“You don’t know anything about my life.”
“Oh, I know enough.”
Her eyes moved over me slowly, then paused right at my stomach.
A strange expression crossed her face.
Instinctively, my hand moved downward slightly.
I stopped myself too late.
Her eyes narrowed.
The silence between us changed instantly.
Then suddenly, she smiled again.
“Relax,” she said lightly, stepping aside. “You look pale.”
Unease crawled through me.
I walked past her quickly, refusing to look back.
But I could feel her watching me all the way down the hallway.
I moved carefully toward the staircase, my thoughts tangled too tightly to settle properly.
Did she notice something?
No. She couldn’t.
I was overthinking.
I had to be.
My hand gripped the railing lightly as I started down the stairs.
Then footsteps sounded behind me.
Before I could turn fully, something caught against the back of my dress. A sharp tug pulled suddenly against the back of my heel.
My balance disappeared instantly and the world tilted violently.
A gasp escaped me as my foot slipped against the polished marble.
Everything happened too fast. The staircase blurred.
Pain exploded through my side as my body slammed hard against the steps.
A cry tore from my throat before I could stop it.
The entire house erupted into chaos.
“Lora!”
Drake’s voice.
My vision swam painfully as footsteps thundered toward me.
My body curled instinctively, both hands wrapping protectively around my stomach before I even realized what I was doing.
Fear crashed into me so hard it stole the air from my lungs.
No.
No, no, no—
Drake’s arms reached me seconds later. His hands moved carefully over me, his expression colder than I had ever seen it.
“What happened?”
Nobody answered immediately.
Not Vivian.
Not Chloe.
Not the servants frozen nearby.
My breathing shook violently.
Pain twisted sharply through my abdomen again, stronger this time.
Terror flooded me instantly and my fingers clutched desperately at Drake’s shirt as I looked up at him.
“Drake…” I whispered shakily.
“Something’s wrong.”
- Writer
