Chapter Eight

FLORA’S POV

    The next morning, I woke up later than usual, dragging myself into what had once been our room—mine and Jayden’s. I needed to gather a few things before I finally walked out of the Kensington estate for good. Thankfully, Jayden wasn’t in there. The last thing I wanted was to face his half-hearted, “I’m sorry, babe” apology attempt, which would barely qualify as an apology.

Last night, I had locked myself in the guest room, cried until I fell asleep. And not those cute, single-tear movie sobs either—it was the ugly kind of crying that leaves you exhausted. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure why I cried so hard. Maybe it was because I knew it was the last time I would shed any tears over my soon-to-be ex-husband and his unbearable family.

Even though I was the one asking for the divorce, it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. I had loved Jayden for so long—aside from my dad, he was the only man I ever truly cared for. And yet, here I was, realizing he had been cheating on me with his ex of all people. And he had the audacity to gaslight me, making me believe I was just being paranoid.

I stood in the middle of the room, scanning every corner to make sure I hadn’t left anything important behind. But as I did, doubt crept in. Could I really survive outside of Kensington’s bubble? What would happen to Sasha if she had to drop out of college because I couldn’t cover her tuition anymore? What about my mom’s medical bills and medication?

I wiped away a stubborn tear that slipped down my cheek and zipped my suitcase. I would work three jobs if I had to, but I wasn’t staying here to be disrespected any longer. Jayden, his mother, the whole Kensington clan—they weren’t worth another second of my time.

Just as I reached for the suitcase handle, the door burst open, and in marched Lisette, followed by her loyal lapdog, Melissa. Great. Just what I needed—drama. I considered ignoring them, thinking Lisette had come to escort Melissa to her new post as Jayden’s replacement wife, but then Lisette yanked the suitcase handle out of my grip.

“What are you doing?” I asked, genuinely confused.

“I’m looking for my gold and diamond necklaces—the most expensive ones in my collection,” Lisette announced, as if this was some routine inventory check. She threw my suitcase onto the bed and unzipped it like she was raiding a suspect’s hideout.

“What does that have to do with me?” I asked, my voice rising with irritation.

Melissa stepped forward, rubbing her perfectly flat stomach with an air of superiority. “I saw you sneaking them out of her bedroom last night,” she said casually. “When I got up to get some water.”

I blinked, stunned. Really? Was this her attempt to impress the Kensington matriarch, accusing me of theft? She didn’t need to try so hard. I was already packing my bags.

“I didn’t leave my room last night,” I said firmly, glaring at her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Melissa shrugged. “Well, we’ll know for sure once we search your suitcase. She already searched mine,” she added, as if that somehow made her more trustworthy.

At that moment, Lisette triumphantly pulled out two necklaces from my suitcase, inspecting them like a detective who had just found the smoking gun. “These are mine,” she said, her cold gaze locking onto me.

“What? How did those get in there?” My mind raced, trying to make sense of what was happening.

Lisette’s lips curled into a sneer. “I see. You were planning to steal my jewelry, worth millions, to support your struggling family. Is that why you were so eager to leave?”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them back. I wasn’t about to let these people see me break. “I didn’t take those,” I said, my voice steady. “Melissa must have planted them there.”

“Shut up!” Lisette barked. “Why would Melissa do that? This was your escape plan, wasn’t it? Well, don’t worry—you’ll have a chance to explain it to the police.”

I couldn’t help but laugh—a dry, humorless chuckle. “I’m not going to stand here and let you both accuse me of something I didn’t do. And I certainly won’t let you throw me in jail for it.”

I turned on my heel, heading for the door, but Lisette wasn’t done. “Where do you think you’re going?” she demanded, trailing behind me like an angry shadow. “Come back here!”

I ignored her, walking faster. I was leaving this estate no matter what. Lisette was all about keeping the Kensington family’s public image pristine—there was no way she would follow me outside and risk causing a scene. I reached the stairs, too distracted to notice the wet patch on the step. Before I could stop myself, my foot slipped, and I tumbled down the stairs.

Pain shot through me as I hit the stairs—my head, my knees, and my ankles all taking turns in the collision. By the time I reached the bottom, my vision blurred, and consciousness slipped away faster than I could grasp it.

                                      ***

JAYDEN’S POV

    I had to come up with a plan—quickly. Flora couldn’t leave, not yet. I had already instructed two guards not to let her out of the estate unless I gave the green light. But honestly, everything was unraveling faster than I could manage. Control was slipping through my fingers like sand, and for the first time in a long while, I had no clue how to stop it.

Melissa was pregnant with my child, and her father—well, let’s just say he wasn’t the type to be thrilled about an out-of-wedlock situation. That meant Melissa had to stay here, in the estate, until we figured out how to deal with this. I had never even considered having a kid with Flora. Not that I was against it, but it just never crossed my mind. And now, Melissa, my ex-girlfriend, was carrying my child. An heir. That had to mean something, right?

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. Flora would get over this whole divorce thing. She always bounced back, didn’t she? She wouldn’t risk her sister’s education or her mother’s health just because of this... minor hiccup.

Who am I kidding? I dropped my pen and exhaled sharply, rubbing my temples. This wasn’t a minor hiccup. This was a full-blown disaster. My phone buzzed on the desk, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts. I was about to call Blake—the guy I had stationed to make sure Flora didn’t try to sneak out. Dr. Frank’s name flashed on the screen.

Dr. Frank, the family doctor. My mother must have taken Melissa to see him for a checkup. She couldn’t stop gloating last night about the baby. Not because Melissa was pregnant with my child, but because she was thrilled knowing that my heir would come from the Pembroke family.

Her happiness wasn’t about Melissa getting pregnant for me; it was about the connection that came with it. But she wasn’t happy with me, because if this got out, it would be bad PR for Kensington.

“Hey, Doc,” I said, picking up the call, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Good day, Mr. Kensington,” Dr. Frank’s voice came through, calm as ever. “I’m calling about Mrs. Kensington’s appointment today. She was supposed to come in at 10:00 regarding the pregnancy, but it’s already noon and she hasn’t arrived. Is everything alright?”

I blinked, thrown off. Mrs. Kensington? Was Dr. Frank already referring to Melissa like she was my wife? Has my mother been that quick to appoint names?

“Uh, yeah. My mother was supposed to take her in today. But, uh... it’s not my wife, it’s... Melissa Pembroke,” I clarified, though the words felt like they barely made it past my lips. The reality of it still felt too strange.

There was a pause at the other end, a long one. Finally, Dr. Frank spoke again, his voice serious. “I’m actually referring to your wife. Mrs. Flora Kensington. She came in a few days ago, and we confirmed she’s about six weeks along. But, there is a complication we need to address.”

His words hit me like a freight train. Flora... pregnant?

I pulled the phone away from my ear, my heart hammering in my chest. Flora was six weeks pregnant. My wife was pregnant. How did I not know this? How had I missed this?

And now, on top of that, my ex-girlfriend was also pregnant with my child.

This was officially a shitstorm of epic proportions.

I bolted out of my office like my life depended on it, barely pausing to acknowledge the baffled stares from the employees as I sped past. I must’ve looked like a man possessed, but I didn’t care. Flora was pregnant. Flora—my wife—was six weeks pregnant, and I had no clue how I had missed something so monumental. This could mend us, and I needed to start talking to Flora.

In record time, I was in the garage, throwing myself into the driver’s seat and tearing out onto the road. The estate wasn’t far, but every second felt like an eternity. By the time I screeched into the driveway, I was running on pure adrenaline. I barely registered that my mother’s car was still parked there—odd, but there was no time to think about that now.

I rushed inside, ready to confront whatever situation I had gotten myself into, but the sight that greeted me nearly stopped my heart. Flora lay sprawled at the bottom of the stairs, her skirt soaked with blood. My mother and Melissa stood frozen at the top, staring down with wide, horrified eyes.

Panic surged through me. I glanced at my mother, my mind immediately jumping to the worst conclusion. Her eyes met mine, and she shook her head, her face pale. She didn’t have to say a word—she knew what I was thinking, and the silent denial was clear: I didn’t do this.

But right now, I couldn’t think. Everything around me blurred as I sprinted toward Flora, my heart pounding in my chest, praying—begging—that she was still alive.

I knelt beside her, gently cradling her head, my hands trembling. “Flora,” I whispered, panic threading through my voice. “Flora, please, stay with me.”

“Oh my God,” my mother muttered, her voice shaky. “Is she... is she dead?”