The Price Of Being His

CHAPTER FIVE

AMARA

I am walking away from Xander—for both our sakes.

If he is truly going through with this wedding, then I refuse to be the woman lurking in the shadows, waiting for stolen moments. I refuse to be the reason his marriage crumbles before it even begins. I will not be the mistake he regrets or the sin he hides.

I have spent the past week agonizing over the best way to break things off. How do you tell someone you’re leaving when you were never supposed to be permanent in the first place? Then it hit me—why not end it the way it began?

Xander took me to an upscale restaurant the night he proposed our arrangement, sliding a contract across the candlelit table, offering pleasure without promises, intimacy without attachments.

I planned to mirror that—one last dinner, a final toast to what we were before walking away forever.

But then, life threw me a cruel curveball.

Two pink lines.

I stare at the pregnancy test in my trembling hands, my heart hammering against my ribs.

How? How can I be pregnant—now, of all f*****g times?

“What the f**k is going on?” I mumbled, my legs buckling beneath me as I slumped onto the cold bathroom tiles. My hands shot out, catching me just in time to soften the fall.

“How is this even possible?” I whispered, my gaze fixed on the two pink lines as if staring long enough would somehow change them. We had been careful—I had been careful. Every single time.

Xander will never let me go if he finds out about this pregnancy. Married or not, he isn’t the type of man to walk away from his responsibilities. And a child? That’s something he would claim as his own without hesitation.

“Take a deep breath, Amara,” I told myself, forcing air into my lungs even though my chest felt like it was caving in. “This isn’t the time to panic.”

I reached for the sink, gripping the edges as I pulled myself to my feet. My reflection stared back at me in the mirror—wide, frantic eyes, lips parted as if still struggling to process the truth.

“I have to think of something,” I muttered. This changes everything. Whether or not I break things off with Xander, one thing is clear—I need to leave.

This city.

This country, if possible.

Before he finds out. Before I lose the one thing I still have control over—my freedom.

If I stay in the same space as him, it’s only a matter of time before he finds out. And when he does, he will come for this child.

Xander is not the type of man to turn his back on his responsibilities, and fatherhood would be no exception. But it’s not just him I have to worry about.

What if Isabelle—his perfect, sophisticated fiancée—demands that he fight for full custody? What if she refuses to let her soon-to-be husband have a child with another woman without trying to erase me from the picture entirely?

A shudder ran down my spine at the thought. I can’t let that happen. I won’t let that happen.

I inhaled deeply, then exhaled, forcing myself to think logically. There’s no use panicking when I need to take action.

My hand reached for my phone, fingers moving swiftly as I searched for places to sell the expensive jewelries Xander had gifted me over the years. The diamond necklaces, the gold bracelets, the designer watches—I had never asked for them, but he had showered me with them.

Now, those same gifts would be my ticket to freedom.

Coupled with the money I already had in my bank account, it should be enough to give me a fresh start—a stable life for me and this baby.

Just as I was about to continue my search, my phone chimed, pulling me back to the present. A message. From Xander.

I AM SORRY, BUT I HAVE TO CANCEL OUR DATE. SOMETHING IMPORTANT CAME UP, AND I HAVE TO BE IN SWEDEN RIGHT NOW. I WILL BE BACK IN A WEEK, AND I PROMISE TO MAKE IT UP TO YOU.

I stared at the message, my lips curling into a bitter smirk.

I bet my ass he’s off to propose to Isabelle.

Did he really think he was doing a good job of hiding it from me?

If only he knew that his secret isn’t really a secret anymore.

I exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand down my face before typing my response.

SURE. HAVE A SAFE TRIP.

By the time he gets back, I’ll be long gone.

With a quiet exhale, I turned back to the sink, gripping the used pregnancy test stick one last time before chucking it into the waste bin.

I walked into my closet. Pulling open the drawers, I carefully gathered every piece of expensive jewelry Xander had ever given me. Diamonds, sapphires, emeralds—each piece sitting in its original velvet box. I stacked them neatly on the counter before turning to my shelves.

The designer bags came next—Louis Vuitton, Chanel, Dior—each one worth enough to keep me afloat for months. My hands hesitated over the Birkin collection. They had been gifts for “special occasions,” moments Xander claimed were ours alone. A bitter laugh slipped past my lips. What a joke.

Without another thought, I pulled them down and added them to the pile.

Finally satisfied with my packing, I peeled off the dinner dress I had planned to wear tonight and tossed it onto the floor. I pulled on a simple oversized shirt before heading back to the bedroom, exhaustion hitting me all at once.

I sank onto the bed, grabbing my phone again. This time, my search was different.

Best places to start over.

Countries with low media presence.

Affordable but safe cities for single mothers.

I needed a place where no one knew me. Somewhere peaceful. Somewhere without the ever-watchful eyes of the paparazzi—not that they knew me as anyone significant, but I couldn’t take any chances.

Because if Xander ever found me, I knew one thing for sure—he would never let me go.

Sedona, Arizona seemed like the perfect place to start over. I had always dreamed of owning a café, a cozy, peaceful place, but I had never really followed through on it. Now, with everything falling apart, it felt like the right time to finally make that dream a reality.

****************

The next morning, I set things in motion. I packed up the jewelries to a secondhand store. For the ones I still had receipts for, I went back to the original store.

By the end of the day, I had sold nearly everything. The money I had from those pieces, along with the savings I had in my bank account, would be more than enough to start fresh in Arizona. I could already picture the café—small, quiet, and mine.

There was just one last thing I needed to take care of. I stopped by a*****e that specialized in used Birkin bags, hoping to sell a few pieces, but they were closed for the day so I made a mental note to return tomorrow.

As I turned toward my car, eager to wrap up my day and head home, an unfamiliar voice stopped me in my tracks.

“You must be Amara.”

I froze, my hand still on the door handle.

Turning around at the sound of her voice, I recognized her instantly. It was Marie, Xander’s mother.

I had no idea I’d be running into her in a place like this, of all places.

“Good day, Ms. Hayes,” I greeted her, forcing a polite smile to my lips, though the last thing I felt like doing was pretending to be friendly.

Her eyes—cold, calculating, and dark—swept over me, taking in every detail from my toes to my face. I could almost feel the judgment in her eyes. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally spoke.

“Despite whoring yourself out, you can’t even afford a new Birkin, so you had to buy a used one?” She chuckled cruelly. “That’s really embarrassing. If you want to live a degrading life, at least make a decent living from it.”

Confused, I glanced down at the shopping bag in my hand, realizing where her misconception was coming from. The Birkin I was holding must have been what triggered her judgment.

She thinks I just bought them from that store.

But I didn’t correct her. I didn’t owe her any explanation. Let her think whatever she wanted. I had more important things to deal with than defending myself to her.

Taking a deep breath, I straightened up. “How can I help you, Ms. Hayes?” I wasn’t in the mood for her bullshit, and I wasn’t about to entertain it any longer than necessary.

I could literally walk away from her if she was just going to make my already bad day worse.

“My son is getting married to Isabelle soon, and I do not appreciate the idea of a mistress in the early days of this marriage.”

I clenched my jaw, trying to hold back the sting of her words. God, why does this hurt so much?

“Congratulations on the wedding,” I said, my voice tight. Hearing it from her made it ten times worse. “But with all due respect, ma’am, I think you should take that up with your son.”

Her eyes narrowed. “How much?” she deadpanned, not even trying to hide the contempt in her voice. “How much to stay away from my son?”

“Why take the money from you when I can get it from your son?” I said, letting the words out slowly , just for the purpose of irritating her.

She didn’t like that. Her face turned crimson with fury. “You gold-digging w***e!” she screamed, drawing the attention of nearby pedestrians. “How long are you going to leech off my son?”

I was done. I wasn’t about to waste any more time in this petty exchange. “I’m not doing this with you,” I muttered under my breath, and turned toward my car.

Without looking back, I slid into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and sped out of the parking lot, leaving her standing there in the rearview mirror, fuming.

When I got home, I stood in the middle of the living room for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts. The bags—my luxury designer bags—lay scattered around, but I decided against selling them. For now, they’d stay with me.

Maybe in the future, I’d need the money for an emergency. But today wasn’t the time to part with everything.

Next, I focused on what really mattered: necessities. I packed a small suitcase, just the essentials, and also a suitcase for the bags and booked the next available flight to Phoenix.

It was in two days.

If I was lucky enough to find a place before Xander returned, I’d come back to collect the rest of my things. If not, I’d leave them behind.

The hardest part of the day came when I decided to write a letter for Xander. I knew that he might come looking for me, and I didn’t want him to believe I’d gone missing. He needed to understand that this was my choice, and that I was leaving on my own terms.

I sat at the kitchen table, pen in hand, and scribbled the words I could never say to his face:

THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING, XANDER, BUT I THINK IT IS TIME WE BOTH MOVED ON. I AM WRITING TO YOU BECAUSE I DO NOT KNOW IF I HAVE IT IN ME TO SAY IT TO YOUR FACE, BUT KNOW THIS: I HAD FUN WITH YOU, AND I HOPE YOU STAY SAFE AND HAPPY. DON’T LOOK FOR ME, AS I DO NOT WANT TO BE FOUND.

YOURS,

AMARA

After sealing the envelope, I made a mental note to leave it with the doorman, ensuring that if Xander came looking for me, he would get the message.

Tomorrow would be my last day here, and then I’d be on a plane to start a new chapter of my life—one I’d write on my own terms.