10

“No, i shouldn’t tell him about the child. He will react the same way I have imagined.” Valeria’s heart pounded as she stood outside Markus’s door, her fingers lingering on the handle. She had imagined every possible reaction he might have, and her thoughts had spiraled into a worst-case scenario. Her mind replayed vivid scenes of his anger, his rejection, and the bitterness in his voice.

With a shaky breath, she shook herself out of the harrowing daydream. “No.” she thought. “I can’t tell him—not yet. He hasn’t accepted me as his wife and this will make him hate me more.” She straightened her posture, forcing a neutral expression onto her face before turning the handle and stepping inside. The sight that greeted her made her pause. 

Markus was standing by the wardrobe, pulling on a crisp white shirt. He looked as composed and distant as ever, his movements sharp and deliberate. “You’re up early,” she said softly, trying to mask the nervous quiver in her voice.

Markus glanced at her briefly, his expression unreadable. “I have work,” he replied curtly, buttoning his shirt and turning to grab a tie. “I can’t waste time lying around. A lot of stuff is waiting for me.”

Valeria took a step closer, her hands clasped in front of her. “You’re still recovering. Maybe you should take another day to rest.” Markus shot her a sharp look, his brow furrowing. “I’m fine,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I have responsibilities to handle, things that won’t wait just because I’ve been away.”

Valeria bit her lip, hesitant to press further. Instead, she moved toward the bed, smoothing out the rumpled sheets as an excuse to keep her hands busy. “If you need anything, I’m here. I know we aren’t on good terms yet but I am your wife.” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Markus adjusted his tie in the mirror, his expression hard. “I don’t need anything from you and I don’t care about you either.” he said without looking at her. “Just focus on whatever my mother’s been assigning you to keep yourself occupied. Do not do anything which you will regret.”

The words stung, but Valeria forced herself to remain calm. She wanted to tell him the truth, to share the news that could change everything—but she couldn’t. Not now, not when he seemed so cold and detached. “Of course,” she murmured, her gaze dropping to the floor.

Markus finished adjusting his tie and reached for his suit jacket, sliding it on with practiced ease. He turned toward her, his eyes briefly scanning her face. For a moment, something flickered in his expression—something softer, almost questioning—but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

“Don’t wait for me. Ever.” he said, heading toward the door. Valeria’s heart sank as she watched him leave without another word. She stood there in the quiet room, her hands clenched at her sides, fighting back tears. He’s already so distant. “How could I possibly tell him about the baby now?” Her hand instinctively moved to her stomach, a mixture of fear and hope swirling within her. 

Valeria walked down the long corridor, her footsteps echoing faintly against the polished marble floor. Her chest felt tight, her heart heavy with the weight of Markus’s coldness. Each step toward her room felt like a mile. “What should i do?” When she finally pushed open the door, she let out a shaky sigh, desperate for the solitude her room offered.

She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, her hands gripping the edge of the wood as if it were the only thing holding her upright. “What am I doing here? Markos doesn’t want me here at all, so what am I doing here bearing his child?” she thought, her mind swirling with self-doubt.

Just as she was about to step further into the room, a voice from behind sent a cold shiver down her spine. “Well, well. Look who’s all teary-eyed and alone. You should have accepted my offer, my dear. You wouldn’t have been in this tough spot.” the voice drawled, dripping with mocking amusement.

Valeria spun around, her breath catching in her throat. Standing in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame, was James—her ex-boyfriend. His dark eyes gleamed with mischief, and his lips curled into a sly smirk. He was dressed sharply, his suit tailored to perfection, as if he belonged in this world of wealth and power.

“James,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “What are you doing here? How did you get inside?” He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with an exaggerated slowness, as though he owned the room. “Oh, don’t look so surprised,” he said, his tone light but laced with sarcasm. “I have my ways of keeping tabs on you, Valeria. You didn’t think I’d just vanish, did you?”

She stiffened, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. “I have nothing to say to you. Please leave. I am your aunt now legally. Have some shame.” She shouted. “Our relationship ended when you ditched me at the altar. Do you really think I will listen to you?” she mocked him knowing James will feel the insult. 

James chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh, don’t be like that. I came all this way to check on you. How are you feeling, Val? Enjoying your perfect little marriage?” His tone turned bitter, his smirk twisting into a sneer. “I left you? Come on, you know I love you and I didn’t ditch you instead you did. How does it feel to ditch someone who actually cared about you for… this?”

His words stung more than she wanted to admit, but she straightened her posture, refusing to let him see her pain. “Whatever I chose to do with my life is none of your business, James. You are the one who dumped me on the altar and now you have the audacity to throw the blame on me. Just leave. You shouldn’t be here.”

He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. “None of my business?” he repeated, his voice low and venomous. “You don’t get to act so righteous, Valeria. You threw me away like I was nothing, you could have waited for me. And for what? To be treated like trash by my uncle Markus?”

Her eyes flashed with defiance, even as her heart pounded in her chest. “You don’t know anything about my life,” she snapped. “And whatever happened between us is in the past. It’s over, James. I am your aunt now and we don’t have any romantic entanglement.”

He laughed humorlessly, his expression darkening. “You think you can just erase me that easily when we are living under one roof? Pretend I never mattered? News flash, Valeria—you don’t get to walk away from me without consequences. If you stay here i will make your life hell.”

Valeria felt a chill run through her. She took a step back, her voice faltering slightly. “You need to leave. Now.” She raised her voice at him to push James away. Even though she loved him and married his uncle, Valeria could not afford to cheat on him knowing mrs Stella was always at her bay. 

James tilted his head, studying her with a dangerous glint in his eyes. “I’ll leave, sweetheart,” he said, his voice softening to a mocking sweetness. “But not before reminding you that I’m not going anywhere. You may have chosen uncle Markus, but don’t forget—I know you better than he ever will. And I’ll always be watching.”

With that, he turned and strode out of the room, leaving Valeria frozen in place. The door clicked shut behind him, and the silence that followed was deafening. “Goodness! What did I get myself into?” Her knees buckled, and she sank onto the edge of the bed, her mind racing. James’s sudden appearance felt like a dark cloud looming over her already troubled life. She wrapped her arms around herself, trembling. “What does he want from me?”’ she wondered, fear and unease settling deep within her.

The next day in evening, Valeria sat in the lounge with Mrs. Stella, her hands wrapped tightly around a delicate porcelain teacup. The room was quiet except for the soft crackle of the fireplace, but her restless thoughts filled the silence. She stared into her untouched tea, her mind wandering to Markus. He hadn’t returned home yet, and the weight of his absence gnawed at her.

Mrs. Stella sat across from her, knitting a scarf with a calm yet attentive air as her hobby. Sensing Valeria’s unease, she set her work down and folded her hands in her lap. “You’ve been quiet all evening, dear,” Mrs. Stella said gently, her sharp eyes observing Valeria’s troubled expression. “Is something on your mind?”

Valeria hesitated, her fingers tightening around the teacup. “It’s Markus,” she finally admitted, her voice soft but tinged with worry. “He didn’t come home last night. Do you know where he might be? He still hadn’t come and I have no idea if he was back or not in the morning.”

Mrs. Stella’s expression softened with maternal concern. “Markus is a grown man, Valeria. He’s likely attending to business matters. He often immerses himself in work when something weighs heavily on his mind. Don’t worry.”

“But…” Valeria’s voice faltered, and she looked down at her lap. “He was still recovering. What if he’s pushing himself too hard? What if something happened to him? I just want to make sure he isn’t away because of me. You know in what circumstances we have were married and he is unhappy about it,”

Mrs. Stella reached across the table and placed a comforting hand on Valeria’s. “Markus is stronger than you think, dear. But I understand your concern. Let me see if I can ease your mind.” She picked up her phone from the side table and dialed a number, her tone composed but firm as she spoke to the bodyguard stationed closest to Markus. “Yes, this is Mrs. Stella. I need an update on Markus’s whereabouts. He hasn’t returned home, and his wife is worried.”

The bodyguard responded quickly, and Mrs. Stella nodded as she listened. “I see. And he’s safe?” she asked, her brows knitting slightly. After a moment, she gave a satisfied hum. “Good. Keep a close eye on him, and ensure he doesn’t overexert himself. Let me know if anything changes or when he will be back home.”

She ended the call and turned back to Valeria, her expression reassuring. “He’s fine, Valeria. He’s at his office, finishing some urgent matters. The bodyguard is with him, and he will make sure he’s taken care of.”

Valeria let out a small sigh of relief, though her shoulders remained tense. “Thank you, Mrs. Stella,” she murmured. “I was just… worried. He’s been so distant lately, and I don’t know how to reach him. I have been trying hard to reach and mend our relationship, especially this gap between us.”

Mrs. Stella gave her a kind smile, patting her hand. “Markus can be stubborn, but he’s not unfeeling. Sometimes, men like him need time to sort through their emotions. Be patient, my dear. You’ve already shown so much strength.”

Valeria nodded, though her heart still ached with uncertainty. She wanted to believe Mrs. Stella’s words, but the image of Markus’s cold eyes and sharp words haunted her. The bodyguard who was a decoy, the broad-shouldered man named Lars, ended the call with Mrs. Stella, sliding his phone into his pocket. The soft buzz of conversation and the clinking of glasses grew louder as he stepped further into the dimly lit bar. The establishment was upscale but carried an air of indulgence, with low lighting, plush seating, and a faint haze of cigar smoke hanging in the air.

Lars scanned the room, his sharp eyes locking onto Markus seated in a private corner. He sighed inwardly, his jaw tightening at the sight. Markus was slouched in his chair, a glass of whiskey dangling from his fingers. Around him, a few of his business associates laughed and chatted, clearly indulging in the same vices.

But what drew Lars’s attention most was the young woman sitting beside Markus. She was striking, with long legs crossed elegantly and a sultry smile playing on her lips. Her dress, a deep crimson that clung to her figure, sparkled under the dim light. She leaned close to Markus, her hand resting lightly on his arm as she whispered something that made him chuckle.

Lars’s brows furrowed. He was used to seeing Markus in difficult or compromising situations, but this felt different. He couldn’t ignore the stark contrast between this scene and the worry etched across Valeria’s face back at the manor.

“Sir,” Lars called as he approached, keeping his tone neutral but firm. His presence immediately shifted the energy at the table. Markus’s friends exchanged knowing glances, and the woman leaned back slightly, her eyes narrowing at the interruption.

Markus looked up, his expression slightly hazy from the alcohol. “What do you want, Lars?” he asked, his voice clipped. Lars clasped his hands behind his back, his posture unyielding. “Mrs. Stella has been inquiring about your whereabouts. Your wife is worried about you, sir.”

Markus’s eyes hardened at the mention of Valeria. He swirled the amber liquid in his glass before taking another sip. “Let them worry,” he muttered, his tone laced with bitterness. “It’s not like she’s losing sleep over me. That vixen!” 

Lars’s gaze flicked to the woman beside Markus, who now seemed more interested in her manicured nails than the conversation. “With all due respect, sir,” Lars said carefully, “you’re still recovering. Perhaps it would be best to return home and rest.”

Markus scoffed, setting his glass down with a loud clink. “Home?” He let out a humorless laugh. “That place hasn’t felt like home in a long time. Everyone is wearing a facade, a mask of empathy.” The woman beside him smirked, her fingers trailing lightly down Markus’s arm. “Oh, let the man have some fun,” she purred, her voice smooth and coaxing. “He deserves a break, doesn’t he?”

Lars’s jaw tightened, but he kept his expression neutral. “Your health and your responsibilities, sir, are more important than this… diversion.”

Markus’s glare shifted to Lars, his lips curling into a sneer. “Responsibilities?” he repeated mockingly. “Is that what she told you? That I’m shirking my duties?” He shook his head, downing the rest of his drink in one go.

Lars held his ground, his patience thinning. “No, sir. But it’s my duty to ensure your safety and to inform you that your actions have consequences. Especially for those waiting for you at home.”

Markus stared at him for a long moment, his jaw tightening as if waging an internal battle. Then he slammed the glass down on the table and pushed himself to his feet. The sudden motion caused the woman to frown in disappointment. “Fine,” Markus said, brushing past Lars. “Let’s go. But don’t think for a second this is because of her.”

Lars nodded, falling into step behind him, relieved that Markus was at least leaving the bar. But as they walked out, Lars couldn’t help but wonder if this night had driven an even deeper wedge between Markus and Valeria. How much more strain their fragile relationship could endure? Lars had seen her, observed her. And to him she was genuine.