11

The grand hallway was silent, lit only by the faint glow of moonlight streaming through the tall windows. Valeria stood near the corner, her delicate hands clutching the edge of a decorative column as she watched Lars support Markus down the corridor. Her breath hitched as she took in the sight of her husband. His steps were unsteady, his head drooping as if the weight of the world—or perhaps the liquor—was too much to bear.

Lars had one of Markus’s arms slung over his broad shoulder, his other hand gripping his waist to keep him upright. The bodyguard’s expression was neutral, but there was a flicker of concern in his eyes as he guided Markus carefully toward the room.

Valeria’s heart clenched at the sight. She wanted to step forward, to help, but her feet felt rooted to the spot. She wasn’t sure if it was the memory of Markus’s harsh words or the fear of rejection that held her back. Instead, she watched silently, her fingers digging into the smooth marble of the column for support.

As Lars reached the bedroom door, he adjusted Markus’s weight and pushed it open with his foot. The door creaked slightly, breaking the heavy silence. Valeria took a cautious step forward, peeking through the small gap as Lars guided Markus to the bed.

Markus let out a low groan, his head lolling to the side as Lars eased him onto the mattress. The once-proud and intimidating figure now looked vulnerable, his shirt rumpled, and his expression slack as he gave in to unconsciousness.

Lars straightened, pulling the covers over Markus with a quiet efficiency. He stood there for a moment, his gaze lingering on his employer as if assessing whether he was truly settled. Then, with a resigned sigh, Lars stepped back and turned toward the door.

As he opened it, he found himself face-to-face with Valeria, who was standing just outside the threshold. Her wide eyes glistened with unshed tears, and her hands fidgeted nervously at her sides.

Lars hesitated, his deep voice breaking the silence. “He’s resting now, ma’am,” he said, his tone low and respectful.

Valeria nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you, Lars.”

The bodyguard gave her a slight nod before stepping out of the room and pulling the door closed behind him. His heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway as he walked away, leaving Valeria standing alone in the quiet corridor.

She placed her hand on the doorknob, hesitating. Her heart ached to be near him, to care for him, even though he had pushed her away so many times. But the memory of his bitterness and the coldness in his eyes lingered in her mind, holding her back.

Taking a shaky breath, Valeria let her hand fall to her side. She turned and began walking toward her own room, the tears she had held back finally spilling over. The echo of her soft, retreating footsteps was the only sound in the stillness of the night.

Valeria lingered outside the door, her fingers trembling against the cold brass of the doorknob. Her chest felt heavy, conflicted between the urge to go to Markus and the fear of what she might encounter. Finally, summoning her courage, she turned the handle quietly and slipped inside.

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting long shadows across the walls. Markus lay sprawled on the bed, his face turned to the side, beads of sweat glistening on his brow. His lips moved, faint whispers breaking the silence.

Valeria stepped closer, her bare feet silent against the plush carpet. She halted a few steps from the bed, her breath catching when she heard his voice.

“Bella...” Markus mumbled, his tone filled with anguish. His voice cracked as he repeated the name, his hands clenching the sheets as if reaching for something—or someone—that wasn’t there. “Bella... please... I’m sorry.”

Valeria’s heart sank. She froze, her wide eyes locked on him as the name echoed in her mind. Bella? The name felt foreign and sharp, like a dagger piercing her chest. She bit her lip, her fingers gripping the edge of the sofa near the window as she slowly lowered herself onto it.

Markus turned slightly in his sleep, his brows furrowing as he let out a low, pained sound. “I should’ve... I should’ve been there... Bella...” His voice cracked again, and his head shook slightly as if caught in a dream—or a memory—that tormented him.

Valeria watched in silence, her heart twisting at the raw pain in his voice. It was the first time she had ever seen him this vulnerable, and it left her with more questions than answers. Who is Bella? she wondered, her mind racing. Why is he crying for her in his sleep? Why does he sound so broken?

Her gaze dropped to her lap, her fingers twisting nervously in the fabric of her dress. A pang of jealousy flared in her chest, followed quickly by guilt. She didn’t know who Bella was or what she had meant to Markus, but it was clear she had left a mark on him—a mark that Valeria could never seem to reach.

The silence in the room felt deafening, broken only by Markus’s uneven breathing. Valeria glanced at him again, her heart aching despite herself. Whatever pain he carried, it ran deep, and she didn’t know if she had a place in his world to even begin to understand it.

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she wiped it away quickly, determined not to let her emotions spiral. She had come here to care for him, to mend their fractured relationship, but now it felt like she was facing an invisible wall—a ghost from his past that she couldn’t compete with.

Markus let out another soft groan, his head shifting slightly on the pillow. Valeria stood, her movements slow and quiet as she approached the bed. She adjusted the covers, tucking them gently around him, her fingers trembling as she brushed against his hand.

For a brief moment, she considered waking him, demanding answers. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead, she backed away, her gaze lingering on his tear-streaked face before she turned and left the room.

As she closed the door softly behind her, Valeria leaned against it, pressing a hand to her chest. The name “Bella” echoed in her mind, leaving her feeling like an outsider in her own marriage. Whatever secrets Markus carried, she realized they might be the very thing that kept them apart—and she wasn’t sure she had the strength to face them.

Valeria’s footsteps echoed softly down the dim hallway, each step heavier than the last as she made her way to her assigned room. The air felt colder, and the realization that she was no longer welcome in the room she once thought would be hers as Markus’s wife made her chest ache.

Her fingers brushed against the doorknob to her room, trembling slightly as she pushed it open. The room was spacious and luxurious, but it felt hollow—like a gilded cage designed to remind her of the distance between her and Markus.

She closed the door behind her, the soft click echoing louder in her ears than she expected. She pressed her back against it, her body slowly sinking to the floor as the weight of her emotions bore down on her. She hugged her knees to her chest, burying her face as tears began to spill uncontrollably.

Her breath hitched as she cursed herself under her breath. “Why did I think... why did I assume things would be different?” she whispered to the empty room, her voice thick with emotion. “Why did I ever think I could be someone important to him?”

The words felt like shards of glass cutting through her heart. She had built up so many hopes when she married Markus, believing that love and respect would follow in time. But reality had crushed those dreams, leaving her with the bitter truth that she was nothing more than an obligation to him.

A small, bitter laugh escaped her lips, mingling with the tears streaming down her face. “Markus Moreno’s wife,” she muttered sarcastically, her voice breaking. “What a joke. How can I even call myself that when he doesn’t even want me in his life? When I’m nothing but an unwanted guest in this house?”

Her shoulders shook as the sobs came harder now, her hands clutching at the fabric of her dress. She couldn’t stop the painful thoughts from spiraling. She had wanted to be more to him—to be someone he looked at with admiration, with care, maybe even with love. But all she had ever received were cold glares and dismissive words.

“And he...” she choked out, her voice barely a whisper, “he doesn’t even know. He doesn’t know how much I tried, how much I wanted to make this work. How much I—”

She stopped herself, a fresh wave of despair washing over her. She pressed her hands to her face, trying to stifle her cries, but it was no use. The pain of rejection and the weight of her unspoken feelings were too much to bear.

Valeria’s thoughts drifted back to her ex, James. He had mocked her earlier, his cruel words cutting deep, but the most painful part was that he had been right. She had left him, chasing the dream of a better life with Markus—a dream that had turned into a nightmare.

“Maybe I made the wrong choice,” she thought bitterly. “Maybe I should have stayed with James. At least then, I wouldn’t feel this... this emptiness.”

But even as the thought crossed her mind, she felt a pang of guilt. Her feelings for Markus, complicated as they were, couldn’t simply be erased. And now, with the secret she carried—the knowledge of her pregnancy—her emotions were even more tangled.

She wiped her tears hastily, leaning her head back against the door. Her mind was spinning, torn between her love for Markus and the painful reality of their fractured relationship. She didn’t know how to fix this, or if it was even possible.

Taking a shaky breath, Valeria stared up at the ceiling, the ache in her chest refusing to subside. She knew one thing for certain—she couldn’t keep living like this. Something had to change. But how? And at what cost?

Valeria sat against the door for a few more moments, her body heavy with exhaustion from the emotional whirlwind of the evening. She wiped the last of her tears with the back of her hand, her cheeks raw and flushed from crying. With a deep, shaky breath, she pushed herself off the floor and walked slowly toward the bed, her legs feeling as though they might give way at any moment.

She slid under the covers, the cool sheets doing little to soothe the storm raging in her heart. The room was quiet, save for the faint rustle of the curtains moving with the breeze from the slightly open window. Her mind raced, replaying Markus's cold expressions, his harsh words, and the name he had whispered in his sleep—Bella.

As she turned on her side, her hand instinctively moved to rest on her belly. The simple gesture brought a fresh wave of emotion, her tears threatening to spill once more. She closed her eyes, her hand resting gently over the tiny life growing inside her, and whispered softly to herself.

"It's such a pity," she murmured, her voice breaking with sorrow. "Such a pity that your father doesn’t want you. He doesn’t even know about you."

She stroked her stomach gently, trying to find comfort in the connection she felt with her unborn child. "I don’t even know if I can tell him," she continued, her words barely audible in the silence. "How can I, when he’s so consumed by his hatred for me? When he’s already decided I don’t belong in his life?"

Valeria’s heart twisted painfully at the thought. She knew Markus would reject her child just as he had rejected her. The memory of his bitterness toward her made it hard to imagine him embracing the idea of being a father.

"I wish things were different," she whispered, her tears slipping silently down her cheeks. "I wish he could see you the way I do. That he could understand what a gift you are, what a miracle you are."

Her fingers brushed against her belly as she closed her eyes, trying to block out the overwhelming sadness. She thought about how alone she felt, knowing that the weight of protecting this child and giving them the love they deserved would fall solely on her. But even in her despair, she vowed to herself that she would do whatever it took to ensure her baby never felt unloved or unwanted.

"You’ll always have me," she whispered, her voice trembling but resolute. "Even if it’s just the two of us, I’ll love you enough for both your parents."

The quiet promise gave her a sliver of strength, and she allowed herself to imagine the small moments of joy she might share with her child—their first smile, their first laugh, the warmth of holding them in her arms.

But the shadow of Markus loomed in her mind, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever come to know their child. Would he ever regret the way he had pushed her away? Would he ever look at their baby and see the reflection of himself, or would he choose to remain blind to what they had created together?

Valeria sighed heavily, her exhaustion finally taking over. Her hand remained on her stomach as she drifted off to sleep, her thoughts a tangle of hope and heartbreak. The soft knock on Valeria’s door broke through the haze of her restless sleep. 

Her eyes fluttered open, red and puffy from the tears she had shed the night before. For a moment, she stared at the ceiling, her mind blank and her body heavy with the weight of exhaustion. The knock came again, firmer this time, and she reluctantly pushed herself up from the bed.

“Come in,” she called out, her voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. The door opened to reveal Mrs. Stella, dressed impeccably as always, her expression calm yet laced with an air of urgency. She stepped into the room, her heels clicking softly against the hardwood floor.

“Good morning, Valeria,” Mrs. Stella greeted, her tone warm but brisk. “I hope I didn’t wake you too early.” Valeria shook her head, sitting up straighter and brushing her hair out of her face. “No, it’s fine. Is everything alright?” she asked, her voice still carrying the sleepiness of the morning.

Mrs. Stella walked closer, her gaze briefly scanning Valeria’s face before softening. “I wanted to speak with you before I leave,” she said, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Valeria’s eyebrows furrowed. “Leave? Where are you going?”

“There’s some urgent business I need to attend to abroad,” Mrs. Stella explained, folding her hands neatly in her lap. “It’s something that requires my immediate attention, and I may be gone for a while.”

Valeria’s heart sank slightly. Mrs. Stella’s presence in the household had been her only source of comfort in recent weeks, a steadying force amidst all the tension and heartache. The thought of her leaving left Valeria feeling even more isolated. “I see,” Valeria said softly, her gaze dropping to her hands.

Mrs. Stella reached out, placing a hand gently over Valeria’s. “I know things haven’t been easy for you, my dear,” she said, her tone kind but firm. “But you’re carrying the Moreno heir, and that is no small responsibility.”

Valeria stiffened slightly at the mention of the child, the words carrying both pride and weight. “While I’m away, I need you to take care of yourself—and this baby,” Mrs. Stella continued, her voice unwavering. “This family may have its challenges, but the child you’re carrying is a blessing, Valeria. You must remember that.”

Valeria nodded, her throat tightening. She appreciated Mrs. Stella’s words, but they only served as a reminder of the complexities she faced. “I’ll do my best,” she said quietly, her hands resting protectively over her stomach.

Mrs. Stella gave a small nod of approval, her sharp eyes softening as she stood. “Good. I trust you’ll handle everything here with grace. If you need anything, you can reach me, though I expect Markus will step up and be more present while I’m gone.”

Valeria looked away, her lips pressing into a thin line. She wasn’t sure how much faith she had in Markus stepping up, but she didn’t voice her doubts.

Mrs. Stella leaned down, her expression unexpectedly tender as she placed a hand on Valeria’s cheek. “You’re stronger than you think, Valeria. Remember that. This family can be difficult, but you’ve already proven you have what it takes to endure.” Valeria blinked back tears, managing a small smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Stella.”

With a final nod, Mrs. Stella straightened and smoothed her dress. “Now, I must go. Take care of yourself, and don’t let Markus give you too much trouble,” she added with a faint smirk before turning toward the door.

As the door closed softly behind her, Valeria sat still for a moment, her hand instinctively returning to her belly. With a deep breath, she got up and began to get ready for the day.