I don’t sleep much that night. I lied in bed staring at the ceiling, waiting for the sound of Leander’s car pulling into the driveway.
It never comes.
When morning light starts to seep through the curtains, I got up and made myself a brewed coffee, it is what I used to drink it before I met him and he taught me to take it with cream and sugar.
It tastes bitter on my tongue, but it matches the way I feel.
My phone buzzes on the counter, it was Maya, of course. She texted me five times last night, asking if I was okay, if I needed her to come over, I told her I was fine, that I just wanted to be alone. But this morning, I need her more than anything.
“Come over,” I text back. “I need to tell you everything.”
She arrived here in twenty minutes, bursting through the door with a grocery bag full of donuts and wine. She doesn’t said anything when she sees my red eyes or the lilies that are still floating in the bathtub.
She just pulls me into a hug, so tight that I can barely breathe, and for the first time since I saw the news, let myself fall apart completely.
“I think it’s over, Maya,” I said when I can finally speak, wiping my tears on the sleeve of my sweatshirt. “I saw the way he looked at her, the way he held her last night. I was never more than… a placeholder, I think. Someone to keep his grandfather happy while he waited for her to come back.”
“Absolutely not,” she said while pulling away and looking at me straight in the eye. “You two have been married for two years, you've built a life together. He cares about you, I know he does. That woman is just playing games, and you can’t let her win.” I cares about me? I guess not. Because if he does, he won't make me fall apart.
I shook my head, reaching for my coffee mug. “It’s not just that, she was wearing the watch I made for him. The one I spent months designing, saved up for, kept secret because I wanted it to be special. She said she borrowed it, but, Maya, it had my birthstone on it. How could he let her wear something that meant so much to us? To me?"
She reaches across the table and takes my hand. “What about the baby? When are you going to tell him?” The question made my chest tighten. I’d almost forgotten about the test kit in my clutch, it's still wrapped in tissue paper.
“I was going to tell him on his birthday,” I said sadly,
“Then everything happened with Wren, and I just couldn’t. What if he doesn’t care? What if he chooses her and the baby doesn’t even matter?”
“Quinn, are you kidding me?” Maya’s voice is sharp with frustration. “That’s his child, his blood. Of course it matters, you have to tell him this is your family you’re fighting for. Don’t let that witch take everything from you without a fight.”
Before I can respond, the front door opens, and I hear Leander’s voice in the foyer. My heart stumbled, part of me is relieved that he’s home, part of me wants to run and hide. Then I heard another voice, it was deep, smooth, and unfamiliar.
“Quinn? Can you come down here for a minute?” Leander calls out.
I looked at Maya, and she gives me a nod of encouragement. “Go on,” she says. “We’ll talk more later.”
I pulled myself up and make my way downstairs. Leander is standing in the living room with a man I’ve never seen before tall, with dark hair cut perfectly, sharp cheekbones, and eyes so cold.
He’s wearing an expensive suit, and there’s a silver ring on his pinky finger that catches the light.
“Quinn, this is Leon Rossi,” Leander says, his hand resting on the man’s shoulder like they’re old friends. “He’s Wren’s business partner, they run Harris-Rossi Designs together and we're here to discuss a potential partnership between their company and Ivanov Industries.”
Leon extends his hand, and I took it reluctantly, his grip is firm and almost painful. “Mrs. Ivanov,” he said, his lips were curving into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.
“I’ve heard so much about you. Wren speaks very highly of your design work.”
I pulled my hand away quickly. “I didn’t know Wren and I had so much to talk about,” I said, my voice was colder than I intend.
“We’re looking to expand into wearable tech,” Leon continues, as if I hadn’t spoken. “Your background in both fashion and engineering makes you the perfect person to weigh in on this partnership. After all, you’re married to the CEO so your input matters.”
I sat down on the edge of the sofa, my mind is racing. I’ve heard of Harris-Rossi Designs they’ve been quietly poaching Ivanov Industries’ top clients for months, and there are rumors that they’re planning a hostile takeover. Now they want to partner with us? That doesn't make sense.
As Leander and Leon discuss numbers and contracts, I noticed little things, the way Leon glances at his phone every few minutes, the way his foot taps out a rhythm that matches the sound of Wren’s laugh I heard on the phone last night.
Then I see it a small tattoo on his wrist, identical to one I noticed on Wren’s ankle when she was on the floor yesterday. A black rose wrapped around a silver key.
They’re not just business partners.
I stood up suddenly, making both of them look at me. “I need to get something from my office,” I said, excusing myself before either of them can stop me.
I hurried upstairs to my home office, the one Leander had built for me when we first moved in –and turned on up my laptop. I typed about “Harris-Rossi Designs takeover rumors” and start digging.
What I found makes my blood run cold. Leon Rossi isn’t just a fashion executive he’s a venture capitalist with a history of orchestrating hostile takeovers, using personal relationships to gain access to company secrets. There are articles about how he has done it before, partnering with someone close to the CEO to get inside information, then pulling the rug out from under them when they least expected it.
And Wren? She didn’t just moved to Paris to pursue her career, she left after her family’s company went bankrupt, and Leon was the one who bailed them out. They’ve been working together for years, planning their next move.
I heard footsteps on the stairs and quickly closed my laptop. Leander appears in the doorway, his face tight with concern. “Are you okay? You looked pale when you left the room.”
I looked at him the man I married, the man I still love despite everything and I know I have to tell him what I have just found out. But first, I need to tell him about the baby.
“I’m fine,” I said, standing up and walking toward him. “I have something to tell you. Something I should have told you on your birthday.”
I reached into my desk drawer and pull out the clutch, taking out the test and handing it out to him.
His eyes dropped into my hand, then back to my face, and I can see the moment he understands what it means.
“Quinn,” he says, his voice barely a whisper. “Is this… are we…?”
I nod, tears pricking at my eyes again. “I’m pregnant. We’re going to have a baby, you're gonna be a daddy.” He reaches out hugs me so tight that I can barely breathe.
For a moment, everything else fades away, Wren, Leon, the takeover rumors. It’s just us, and our baby, and the future we were supposed to have.
But then he pulls away, and I saw the conflict in his eyes. “We need to talk about this,” he says. “But first, I need to finish up with Leon, the partnership could be huge for the company.”
I took a deep breath, making my decision. “Leander, wait,” I said, stepping in front of him. “You can’t trust them. Wren and Leon, they’re not here to partner with us. They’re here to take over Ivanov Industries and I have proof.”