I Picked His Mistress, I Found My Self

Chapter 4

Even though Seraphina had given up on him long ago, his words still pressed a dull, aching pain into her chest.

Ever since her mother's heart attack and the long hospitalization that followed, money had become the only thing left between them. She needed funds for her mother's expensive treatments, and Damien needed to pay off his discarded lovers. Their chat history had been reduced to a cold ledger of transfers.

She pushed the hurt down and went back to the bedroom to pack.

When they had married, they'd been so deeply in love that the room still bore proof of it everywhere. Matching slippers. Matching pajamas. Even the toothbrushes had come as a set. Seraphina pulled out everything that belonged to her and packed it away. This room was about to welcome a new mistress. Her things had no place here anymore.

When she reached the wedding portrait above the bed, she hesitated.

The woman in the photograph was smiling with bright, unguarded joy, and Damien's eyes were full of love. Anyone who saw it would have called the picture sweet. Now that sweetness only made her stomach turn.

She stepped to the bed to take it down. Behind her came the soft click of the lock, and an instant later, the man's presence wrapped around her completely.

Damien held her from behind and pressed his full weight into her, pinning her so she could not move. His voice came out through clenched teeth. "Seraphina, would it kill you to soften a bit, just once?"

"One word from you, and I'd give you my life. Seraphina, I love you."

He began to move against her, like a husband returned from too long an absence, his eyes darkened by hot, simmering desire.

Seraphina only felt sick.

She brought her hand up and slapped him. Eyes red, she fisted his collar and lifted her chin defiantly. "Get one thing straight. I'm not your mistress. If you need to take the edge off, go grind it out on Chloe. Don't make me sick by doing it here." She gave a sharp, cold laugh. "And if Mr. Hawthorne needs a live demonstration, that comes at an extra charge."

Damien's face turned terrible. "Seraphina, you'd better not push me!"

He slammed the door on his way out and left her crumpled on the bed, drained, curled into herself.

How could love that deep ever stop hurting? Seraphina felt as though she were dying, the nausea tangling with the love still lodged in her, devouring what remained of her sanity.

The girlish cries drifting up from downstairs reached her clearly.

"No, your wife is still here. Damien, you're terrible!"

The wet sound of mouths meeting traveled into her ears. She opened her eyes, and a strange calm settled over her. She reached up and took the wedding portrait off the wall.

The noise outside the door grew louder, almost as though it were being staged for her benefit.

When at last it was over, Seraphina opened the door and went down. With practiced ease, she poured a glass of water for Chloe on the couch, a small pale yellow pill resting in her palm. "Take it."

As long as the divorce was not finalized, she was still Mrs. Hawthorne. Handling threats like this was part of the job.

Chloe gave her a sidelong look. "What is this? You're not trying to poison me, are you? Damien really is too thoughtless. He has no idea how to look after a girl."

She let the strap of her dress slip, baring the kiss marks on her collarbone with a coy little flourish that made Seraphina's eyes ache.

"It's a morning-after pill." Seraphina bit the inside of her lip. For a moment, something softened in her. "You're only nineteen. You have your whole life ahead of you. There's no need to do this."

Chloe's hand cracked across Seraphina's face. The freshly medicated wound split open, and blood streamed down until the sight of her was almost ghastly.

Chloe drove her foot into Seraphina's stomach, her teeth bared. "You filthy b***h! You actually wanted to hurt my baby? I'm already carrying Damien's child!"

Furious, she snatched up a vase and brought it down on Seraphina.

A sharp pain tore through her abdomen. Warm liquid slid down her thighs, and her heart hurt as much as her body.

In the end, their baby would never know its mother's love, never know its father's. Was it really leaving her now?