Chapter 1

VIELLA'S POV.

"How dare you lay your cursed hands on me?" The sting of Mrs. Lolita's words was accompanied by a resounding slap as her perfectly manicured hand descended on my pale cheek.

My fragile hand instinctively flew to the side of my face where it hurt. "Mum…" I called out in a weak voice, fighting the dam that threatened to break from my eyes.

"Don't you dare call me that! I can never be a mother to a barren witch like you!" Her words pierced my heart without an ounce of mercy. "I have warned you to leave my son alone! How much do you want? Just name your price!"

Mrs. Lolita Rollins—a woman of prestige and influence who had achieved everything she ever wanted even before turning 53—had it all. Everything except a grandchild from her first son. And she wasn't willing to let it slide, especially not when Lance was her first son.

I stood there, helpless and humiliated, as her cold, hateful words continued to lash at me. Four years of marriage, and I had nothing to show for it. Not even a miscarriage. I had done everything—visited the best hospitals in the world and endured every test and treatment, but nothing worked. Every doctor had the same empty reassurances: 'You're fine. You'll conceive soon.'

Lies. All lies!

And then, a saving grace appeared. Lance.

I looked up and saw him at the top of the stairs, his face set in a frown. His mother's words mingled with his own guilt and frustration. He could see the toll the pressure was taking on me, and his heart ached at the sight.

"Mum. What are you doing here?" Lance hurried down the stairs.

Lance tried to hold back his own frustration. His mother's relentless demands had always been a burden, but now they seemed unbearable. He turned to me, seeing the tears I had been struggling to hide.

"I came here to see how my son has been coping with this barren lowlife," she spat, cutting her eyes toward me disdainfully, "what is wrong with you, Lance? Do you want me to die without having a grandchild?" She said in her usual sophisticated accent.

Lance tried to hold his temper, though I could sense his struggle. His voice tightened as he replied, "Mum, you already have grandchildren from Taylor. Why the pressure?" He wrapped his arm around me protectively, attempting to offer comfort.

"Your father is finally ready to retire. He is willing to adjust his will in your brother's favor if you do not give him an heir to the inheritance he has willed to you. I just thought you had to know," Lolita spat angrily, glaring at both of us.

"What?" Lance asked, pulling away from me. "He wouldn't do that." His Hazel eyes searched his mother's for any hint of lies or deceit.

He knew his mother. She could go to any length just to get what she wants. But this time, it didn't seem like a joke. She meant every word she had just said.

"Now we'll know what's more important to you. Your inheritance or the barren witch," With one final disdainful glare, Lolita stormed out of the house.

There was silence. Lance couldn't bring himself to look at me.

"Viella..." He called in a whisper, but I stopped him.

"Stop it, Lance." I raised my hand to silence him, anger and heartbreak twisting in my chest. "This is all your fault! I begged you, but you've remained adamant. And now what? You're willing to give up your inheritance?" My voice cracked as I yelled, "How many more slaps and humiliations should I endure from your mother?"

"But Viella," he pleaded, running his fingers through his short, neatly trimmed hair, "what if people find out? It would be a slap on our faces. We can't be associated with such a scandal, come on."

I closed the gap between us, desperation rising in my chest. I was beginning to break through his adamance; I could feel it. I just needed to push a little harder.

"No one would ever find out. I promise." I cupped his face in my trembling hands. "I'll pretend to be pregnant all along. She will be kept in a secluded place, far away from prying eyes or potential danger. I have everything all planned out, Lance. Please."

Lance looked into my eyes, and I could see the conflict in his hazel gaze. The desperation and love that drove me must have been clear to him. He was silent for a painfully long moment, which scared me, but I kept my hope alive because I could tell my words had struck a chord. The thought of losing him was unbearable, and I knew he felt the same.

"She is a humble girl from a small family who desperately needs money. She wouldn't dare go against us. I assure you. I love you, Lance. My inability to conceive shouldn't be the reason I'd lose you. I'll die if I ever lose you," Tears flowed down my cheeks.

Lance heaved a sigh, and my heart clenched at the sound. He loved me; I knew that. But the weight of the situation was crushing him. I saw the fear in his eyes—the same fear I felt every day. The thought of getting another woman pregnant always scared him to death.

We had been through so much together already. We couldn't end things like this.

"Where did you say she is from? And how well do you know her?" Lance asked.

Relief flooded me, and I let out a long, shaky breath. Finally, I had him where I wanted him.

"She is from a small town where Tara's mother always visits with alms," I explained, trying to keep my voice steady despite the excitement bubbling inside me. "Noralie is one of the poor orphans who live with her uncle and his family. She's also religious and of a good upbringing..." I continued, laying out every detail I could think of to reassure him.

"Fine. If it makes you happy…" Lance said at last, though his tone made it clear he wasn't. He was agreeing, but I could see he wasn't happy about it. Still, I knew he had no other choice—not if he loved me as much as I loved him.

"Thank you so much, baby. I love you." I wrapped my arms around him in a tight embrace. "I promise you'll never regret this. I swear to you!"

***

LANCE'S POV.

It had been four weeks since my mother's unexpected visit to our house. We hadn't spoken since, and honestly, I wasn't in a hurry to change that. If it weren't for the fact that tonight was her 53rd birthday celebration, I would have gladly stayed home with Viella, curled up on the couch, watching one of those dull movies she seemed to love so much.

But here I was, plastering on a smile, shaking hands, and making small talk with guests and friends. Viella stood beside me, looking stunning as always, and my mind kept drifting to how much I wanted to take her home and unleash the beast she was unknowingly stirring inside of me. She had no idea how dangerously she was playing with my restraint tonight.

She was a goddess. My goddess. I still couldn't believe how lucky I was to have her in my life. Every time I looked at her, I felt like I had won the lottery. She wasn't just my wife—she was a trophy I proudly carried everywhere, someone I never stopped bragging about to friends and acquaintances.

"Yes, she is my wife," I told a woman who couldn't seem to stop staring at me. The possessiveness surged, and I slipped my arm around Viella's shoulders, holding her close.

"Isn't she lucky?" the woman asked, her lips curling into a knowing smile as she took a sip of her wine.

"On the contrary, I'm the lucky one here," I replied, my gaze drifting to Viella. I couldn't hide the admiration in my eyes even if I wanted to.

Every day, I wished I could find the man responsible for what had happened to her—the reason she was unable to bear a child. If I ever met him, I wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet in his head. The thought of everything she had endured before I came into her life made my blood boil. I loved her so much, and I hated knowing that I hadn't been there to shield her from the pain and hurt she'd gone through.

As we walked toward the table filled with food, I felt Viella stiffen beside me. I didn't have to turn around to know my mother's gaze was boring into us, especially Viella. I could feel it, too, like a cold wind brushing against the back of my neck.

We were starving, and I was looking forward to finally eating something. But as soon as we stepped closer to the array of dishes, Viella suddenly covered her mouth and nose with her hand, pulling away from my arm.

"Viella?" I called after her, but she was already excusing herself, rushing away.

"What in the name of the heavens is wrong with her?" I heard his mother's voice from behind me amidst the mild music coming from the speakers, cutting me mid-thought.

"Uh..." I turned slightly, still keeping my gaze fixed on the door Viella had just walked out of. "She’s been feeling sick for a few days now, Mum. She gets upset at the sight of food and… well, she’s been easily irritated. It’s getting frustrating," I admitted with a sigh.

"What? Are you… Are you serious?" Mum’s tone shifted, her excitement bubbling to the surface as she leaned closer. "And have you gone to see the doctor yet?"

"Not yet, Mum. I’ve been busy with work… You know?" I shrugged

"Don’t be stupid, young man!" she exclaimed, smacking my arm lightly. "Your wife is obviously pregnant! Can’t you read the signs? Oh, my God! I’m going to be a grandmother!" Her excitement was impossible to contain as she pulled me into a tight hug.

"Come on, Mum. It might be nothing," I tried to reason, but she cut me off with a glare.

"What do you know about a woman’s body?" she retorted. "Now, hurry up and check on my daughter-in-law and future grandson! Go now!" She shooed me away with a wave of her hand, tears of joy streaming down her cheeks. "And make sure you take her home to rest! You’re seeing the doctor first thing tomorrow morning!"

I shook my head as I made my way through the crowd. My mother was something else. Dramatic didn’t even begin to cover it. Though, to be fair, Viella could give her a run for her money. That thought brought a grin to my face as I pushed open the bathroom door.

"Hey, babe. You deserve an Oscar for that performance," I said, pulling her by her slender waist and pressing soft kisses to her neck.

"Lance… Thank you, honey," she said softly, gently pushing me away.

"What’s wrong?" I asked, my grin fading as I noticed how disheveled she looked.

"I think I feel sick... This wasn’t entirely an act. I truly felt…" She hadn’t even finished her sentence when my phone buzzed in my pocket.

I fished it out and glanced at the caller ID. My stomach dropped, and judging by the look on Viella’s face, hers did too.

Noralie.