Chapter 0003

My head spun as I stumbled back to the bed, clutching my chest against the stabbing pain.

“I did you a favor packing your bags. I could’ve just thrown your things everywhere,” Jimena sneered, her words slicing through the silence. I ignored her, desperately trying to steady my breath.

“You… you can’t be pregnant. William won’t accept it.”

“Are you calling me a liar?” she snapped. I held her gaze, refusing to show how much she was hurting me. I was William’s wife. She was just his mistress. It didn’t matter if he loved her—by law and to the world, I was Mrs. Rogers.

“Yes,” I said firmly, rising from the bed. “You’ve always wanted my husband. I’m sure you made this up.”

“No, Anastasia,” she said, stepping closer with a wicked smile. “Liam has always loved me. You’re the one who tricked him. You came between us—”

“It doesn’t matter,” I cut her off. Her expression faltered. “I’m his wife, and that’s all that counts.”

“He’s going to divorce you,” she said in a confident voice. “He loves me.”

“Until he does, I’m still his wife. The lady of the house. Now, take your filthy belongings out of my room before I do something you’ll regret.”

Jimena froze for several seconds. But before I could savor the moment, she raised a glass of juice and poured it over herself, screaming theatrically.

“What the hell?” William burst into the room, rushing to her side as she pretended to shiver.

“She’s crazy, William! I didn’t do anything!” she whimpered. William immediately wrapped his arms around her, his face darkening as he glared at me.

“She’s going to pay for this,” he growled. “Go clean up in the guest room. I’ll join you shortly,” William said softly. She nodded, throwing me a fake sympathetic smile as she left.

“Why the hell did you do that?” William barked, his fury directed at me.

“I didn’t do anything! She’s lying!”

“Don’t you dare accuse her. Jimena isn’t like you.”

“So, I’m the liar now?”

“Yes. Now pack your things and apologize to her.”

“Are you serious?” My voice rose, startling him.

“This is my house,” he said coldly. “We’re getting a divorce. You can move to one of the guest rooms—or Ivy’s.”

Ivy is our daughter. She's very cute and thinking about her made me even more reluctant to get a divorce

“I’m still your wife, William. This is my room, too...” I longed for an ounce of mercy.

“Enough! You’re a damn headache. Haven’t you caused me enough misery over the past four years?”

His words hit like a dagger.

“I’m going downstairs to check on Jimena,” he said, turning to leave. “I want you gone when I get back.”

“William,” I called, my voice trembling. He paused but didn’t turn.

“Have you ever thought of loving me? Even a little?”

“What?”

“Answer me, William. Could you imagine loving me—even in five years?”

He finally turned, his expression devoid of warmth. “Never. Not in this life or the next. These past four years have been hell. I hate you, Anastasia. I hate you.”

The door slammed behind him, leaving me alone with my shattered heart. Maybe it's  time to give up on this marriage.

I looked at my packed bag. I didn’t care what was inside—I just needed to leave. My gaze fell on the divorce papers his mother had given me days ago.

“Sign them, you leech,” her voice echoed in my mind. She’d despised me from the start, just like her son.

Tears blurred my vision as I scrawled my name on the dotted line. I left the papers on the bed, grabbed my bag, and walked out.

Reaching the stairs, I froze. William was downstairs, laughing as he tickled Jimena. He kissed her stomach—something he’d never done when I was pregnant.

I had a difficult labor when I gave birth to Ivy, and he didn't even drive me to the hospital, actually he was in another city that day...

I cleared my throat, and their laughter stopped.

“What now?” William asked irritably. “Can’t you figure out which room to pick?”

“I’m leaving.”

“What?” He stood abruptly.

“I’ve signed the divorce papers. Finish them and file them. I want this done.”

“You’re not leaving,” he said, his voice sharp as he grabbed my wrist.

“I don’t need your permission.”

“I’m your husband, and you’ll leave when I say so.” His grip tightened, and I winced.

“William, let her go,” Jimena interjected.

“Shut up, Jimena!” he snapped, shocking her into silence.

“You listen to me,” he said, leaning closer. “You’re not leaving this house until I say so. Is that clear?”