Crystal clutched her luggage tightly, her trembling hands resting briefly on her belly. “I’ll fight for us,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Your father doesn’t deserve you. I promise, I’ll protect you no matter what.” She paused, as though seeking comfort from her own words, her thumb brushing against her stomach.
The darkening sky mirrored her sinking heart as she stood outside the Blake mansion, her belongings scattered around her. She had no idea where to go. With no friends in the city and no family to rely on—she had cut ties with them when they opposed her marriage to Christian—she felt utterly alone. “I should have listened,” she murmured, her voice trembling with regret. “I should have seen through the lies. But now… now, this is my reality.” She exhaled shakily and flagged down a taxi. The car pulled up, and she struggled to load her luggage into the trunk, her hands trembling with exhaustion and emotion. “Where to, ma’am?” the driver asked. Crystal hesitated for a moment before replying, “Take me to the nearest hotel, please.” The drive was silent except for the hum of the engine. She stared out of the window, her arms wrapped protectively around her belly, as tears slipped quietly down her cheeks. When the taxi arrived at the hotel, she stepped out, her resolve hardening as she pulled her luggage inside. The lobby was warm and inviting, but the whispers from the staff were anything but. “Isn’t that Mrs. Blake?” “Not anymore,” one of the workers muttered audibly. “Thrown out just like that. What a shame.” Their words felt like daggers, but she kept her head high, forcing herself to walk to the receptionist. “Good evening,” the receptionist greeted with a polite smile that barely hid her curiosity. “How may I help you?” “I’d like to book a room for the night,” Crystal said, her voice steady despite the turmoil within. “Of course. Please insert your card here,” the receptionist said, sliding the terminal toward her. Crystal pulled out her card and swiped it. Declined. She tried again, her chest tightening as the same message flashed. “Ma’am, the card has been declined,” the receptionist said, her tone now colder. Crystal’s pulse quickened as she tried again, and again. By the fifth attempt, her hands were trembling. “Ma’am, if you can’t make payment, I’ll have to ask you to step aside. There are other customers waiting,” the receptionist said impatiently. Crystal stepped back, tears threatening to spill as embarrassment and helplessness enveloped her. Her mind raced for a solution. Who could she call? She had no one left. Desperately, she pulled out her phone and dialed Christian. He answered after a few rings, his mocking laughter filling her ears. “I knew you’d call,” he sneered. “What did you do to my card?” she demanded, her voice trembling with anger and fear. Christian chuckled, the sound chilling. “Your card? My money? You have no rights to any of it anymore. I’ve blocked all access. And let me make one thing clear—don’t ever call me again, you poor, wretched thing.” The line went dead. Crystal stared at her phone, her vision blurring with tears. With no other options, she slowly turned and walked out of the hotel, dragging her luggage behind her. The cold air bit at her skin as she stood by the curb, trying to figure out what to do next. “Ma’am Crystal?” a familiar voice called out. Crystal turned, startled, and her heart skipped a beat. There he was—Dr. Peterson, her obstetrician, dressed casually in a crisp shirt and tailored trousers. His concern was evident as he stepped closer. “Dr. Peterson?” she said, her voice cracking. “Yes, it’s me,” he replied, his tone warm but worried. “What are you doing out here? Is everything okay?” She hesitated, the weight of her situation pressing down on her. “I… I couldn’t book a room,” she admitted quietly. “Why not?” he asked, his brows furrowing. “My card was declined,” she said, shame creeping into her voice. Dr. Peterson’s expression darkened briefly before softening. “You should have called me,” he said gently. “You don’t need to go through this alone.” “I didn’t want to trouble anyone,” she replied, looking away. “Nonsense,” he said firmly. “Let me help. What are you doing at this hotel anyway?” She blinked, confused. “I just needed a place to stay for the night.” He smiled slightly. “Well, it’s a good thing you came here. I happen to be one of the directors of this hotel.” Crystal’s jaw dropped. “You’re a director here?” “Yes,” he said with a reassuring nod. “And as one of the directors, I’m making sure you have a room. Don’t worry about anything.” “But—” “No buts,” he interrupted, his tone kind but resolute. “You’ve been through enough already. Let me take care of this, at least for tonight.” Crystal hesitated, tears of relief welling in her eyes. “Thank you, Dr. Peterson.” “Call me Alex,” he said with a warm smile. “Now, let’s get you settled inside.” He carried her luggage back into the hotel, his presence a beacon of hope amidst her despair. Crystal followed, feeling for the first time in days that maybe, just maybe, things would be okay. ********** The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, waking Crystal from a restless sleep. She rubbed her eyes and took a deep breath, steeling herself for the day ahead. She had made up her mind—there were people she needed to see, people she hadn’t visited in years. A knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts. “Come in,” she said, her voice hoarse. A waitress entered, carrying a tray laden with a steaming breakfast. Crystal blinked in surprise. “I didn’t order this.” The waitress smiled. “It’s from Dr. Peterson. He insisted you have something warm before starting your day.” Her chest tightened with a mix of gratitude and embarrassment. “Oh... thank you.” The waitress set the tray down and gave a polite nod before leaving. Crystal stared at the plate, her emotions swirling. She hadn’t eaten properly in days, and the gesture felt like a lifeline. As she ate, her resolve grew stronger. After finishing her meal and freshening up, she packed her small bag and left the hotel. A long journey lay ahead, but she needed answers—and closure. The ride to her parents’ home in the neighboring city felt like a lifetime. She stared out the window, her heart heavy with apprehension. The last time she had seen them, she was full of hope and dreams—dreams that now felt like ashes in her hands. When she arrived, the modest house stood unchanged, a bittersweet reminder of the past. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door. It creaked open to reveal her mother, whose eyes widened in surprise. “Crystal...” “Hi, Mom,” she said softly, forcing a small smile. Her mother hesitated but stepped aside without a word, allowing her in. Her father was seated in the living room, the television humming softly in the background. He looked up, his face a mixture of surprise and disapproval. “Look who decided to show up,” her mother said, her tone cutting. “Crystal,” her father said, his voice colder than she remembered. “What are you doing here?” Crystal shifted uncomfortably. “I... I needed to see you. I had nowhere else to go.” Her mother crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. “We saw the news.” Crystal’s stomach twisted. She didn’t need to ask what they meant. “The new wife,” her father said flatly, shaking his head. “Christian moved on faster than I thought.” Crystal swallowed hard. “It’s not what it seems. He—” “It doesn’t matter!” her mother snapped, cutting her off. “We warned you about him, Crystal. We told you he’d destroy you, but you were too blind to see it. And now you expect us to welcome you back with open arms?” “I didn’t know who else to turn to,” Crystal said, her voice trembling. “I thought maybe...” Her mother’s laugh was harsh. “Maybe what? That we’d take you back after you cut us out of your life for him? That we’d forget the way you turned your back on us?” Her father sighed heavily. “You made your choice, Crystal. And now you have to live with it.” Tears pricked her eyes, but she forced herself to hold their gaze. “I know I made mistakes. I know I hurt you, but I’m trying to fix things.” Her mother’s face hardened, and her next words were like a dagger to Crystal’s heart. “Fix things? There’s no fixing this. You don’t belong here, Crystal. You should leave.” Her father looked away, his silence louder than words. “Please,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I just need time to figure things out.” Her mother stepped closer, her expression unyielding. “Leave now, Crystal. Right this moment. Or I’ll call security to escort you off the property.” The weight of those words crushed whatever hope Crystal had left. Her breath hitched, and for a moment, she thought she might collapse under the pain. Her world seemed to tilt as her mother’s words hit her like a physical blow.At the Blake mansion, Ilda basked in the glow of her newfound status. She was no longer just a guest but the adored daughter-in-law, carrying what was presumed to be the Blake heir. Every staff member greeted her with deference, their respect evident in the careful way they attended to her needs. Even Olivia, who had once regarded her with mild suspicion, now seemed to look at her with admiration. Ilda played the part perfectly, smiling warmly at everyone and making sure to offer kind words to the staff whenever possible. She carried herself with a grace that could only be described as regal, ensuring that every action solidified her position in the family. In the sitting room, Ilda sat next to Christian, her hand lightly resting on his arm. They were sharing a quiet moment, the air filled with an unusual softness. “You’ve been so good to me, Christian,” Ilda said, her voice sweet and affectionate. “I don’t know how I would have managed without you.” Christian looked at her, a
Crystal took one last look at the grand estate behind her. The mansion had always been her home, a place of love and warmth. But tonight, it felt like nothing more than a cruel reminder of everything she had lost.She tightened her grip on the handle of her suitcase, the weight of it dragging behind her like the burden in her heart. The cold night air nipped at her skin as she stood there, waiting—hoping—that at any moment, her mother would come running out, calling her back.But the house remained silent. The golden lights glowed softly through the windows, almost mocking her, as if life inside continued without her.Her mother’s final words echoed in her mind, sharp and unforgiving."You made your choice, Crystal. Now live with it."Her chest ached as she clenched her fists, willing herself not to cry. She had known her parents would be upset, disappointed even. She had defied them by choosing love over family, by marrying Christian against their wishes. But she had never expect
Her eyes fluttered open, the dim light of a lamp casting a golden glow over the unfamiliar room. The air smelled of fresh linen and something faintly medicinal. The mattress beneath her was firm but comfortable, and she realized she was tucked beneath a thick blanket.The unfamiliar room around her was simple yet neat—light-colored walls, a wooden dresser, and a chair near the window where the golden sunlight cast long, warm streaks across the floor. It was quiet. Too quiet.She swallowed against the dryness in her throat, attempting to push herself up, but even that small effort made her limbs tremble. She felt weak—far weaker than she had ever felt before. Her fingers barely had the strength to grip the sheets.Where was she?Panic shot through her veins as she struggled to sit up, but a strong, steady voice stopped her."Easy. You need to rest."Crystal turned toward the voice, her heart pounding. A man sat in a chair beside the bed, his dark eyes watching her with quiet concern.
The dining hall of the Blake mansion was as elegant as ever, its polished mahogany table gleaming under the soft chandelier light. Yet, the atmosphere was thick with unspoken tension.Christian sat at the head of the table, his posture relaxed, but his mind elsewhere. Olivia sat beside him, her sharp eyes scanning the room, ever calculating. Across from them, Ilda sipped her tea, her expression unreadable.Soft footsteps broke the silence as Ilda, one of the senior housemaids, moved around the table, serving lunch.The maid placed a steaming bowl of soup before Christian and smiled. “This is the soup Mrs Crystal always made,” she said innocently. “The one everyone loved so much.”Silence.Christian’s hand froze mid-motion, his grip tightening around his spoon. His once-distant gaze sharpened in an instant.Ilda set her teacup down with a quiet clink, her fingers lingering on the porcelain. Though her face remained calm, her eyes darkened ever so slightly.Olivia’s expression turned
The car finally came to a slow stop, its sleek exterior reflecting the bright lights flashing wildly from the sea of photographers. The red carpet stretched before them, lined with reporters eagerly waiting to capture the entrance of one of the most powerful men in the business world.As expected, the media was in full force, their cameras poised, ready for the perfect shot. They had all anticipated the same thing: Mr. Christian Blake arriving with his wife, Crystal.But what they saw instead left them in stunned silence.The bodyguard stepped forward, opening the car door. Christian stepped out first, his black suit tailored to perfection, his commanding presence sending a ripple of murmurs through the crowd.Then, Ilda followed.She was breathtaking in her emerald dress, her presence undeniably striking, but it wasn’t just her beauty that had everyone whispering—it was what her presence implied.Gasps. Shutter clicks. Whispers turned to rapid questions.“This wasn’t expected—”“Wait
Crystal swallowed, waiting expecting him to say something. Anything.But he didn’t.He broke the stare first, walking past her as if she were invisible.Her fingers curled into fists, her heart sinking.She turned slightly, watching as he moved to the dining area. The dim light overhead cast sharp lines across his features—his strong jaw, the slight shadows under his eyes, the cool indifference in his expression.He grabbed a glass from the table, poured himself some water, and took a slow sip.No words. No questions. No acknowledgment of the storm inside her.Her throat tightened.She didn’t know why she had expected anything different.Maybe she had hoped, just for a second, that he would offer some kind words. That he would tell her she wasn’t alone.But Adrian wasn’t that kind of man.She looked away, swallowing the lump in her throat, ready to retreat back into her own pain.Then—A movement.Subtle. Almost absentminded.Crystal glanced up, and her breath caught as she watched Ad
The grand double doors of the Blake mansion swung open as Christian and Ilda stepped inside. The air was thick with an unspoken tension, the echoes of flashing cameras and relentless questions still lingering in their minds. The staff stood silently, bowing slightly as Christian walked past them without a glance, his grip on Ilda’s hand loosening the moment they were inside.The flashing cameras, the gasps, the way the media clung onto Christian’s every word—it was everything she had wanted. And when he declared her as someone special, his future wife, the mother of his heir, she felt an intoxicating rush of victory.But she couldn’t let it show.Not yet.She turned to Christian, schooling her expression into one of concern. She let her fingers trail lightly over her wrist, a subtle touch, hesitant. “Christian…” she murmured, her voice just soft enough to seem sincere.Christian walked to the bar without sparing her a glance. The crystal glass clinked against the counter as he po
The morning sunlight seeped through the mansion’s grand windows, casting a warm glow over the polished floors. Outside, the faint chirping of birds signaled the start of a new day, but inside Christian Blake’s private study, the air was thick with concentration.Christian sat behind his imposing mahogany desk, his sharp eyes glued to the screen as his fingers moved swiftly across the keyboard. The faint sound of typing filled the otherwise silent room, the only other movement being the slight furrow of his brow as he worked.The door creaked open.“Working already?”Olivia’s smooth voice cut through the quiet, carrying that usual tone of motherly observation mixed with something else—something subtle, unreadable.Christian didn’t look up immediately. “Morning, Mother,” he greeted, his voice even.Olivia stepped inside, her silk robe flowing elegantly around her as she made her way toward him. Her gaze swept across the room before landing on the pile of documents beside him.She til
The Blackwood's mansion was eerily silent, the only sound coming from the faint ticking of the grand clock in the hallway. The dim chandelier light cast long shadows across the lavish dining room, where Crystal sat alone.She stirred the soup in front of her absentmindedly, her stomach unsettled by the strange cravings that had come and gone these past few days. Tonight, hunger had struck late, and she found herself eating when the rest of the house had already gone quiet.Then, suddenly—BANG!The front door slammed open with a force that sent a sharp jolt through her chest.Crystal turned sharply, her spoon clattering against the ceramic bowl.There, standing unsteadily in the doorway, was Adrian.His brown hair was disheveled, a few strands sticking to his damp forehead. His usually sharp, indifferent gaze was clouded—bloodshot and heavy-lidded. The crisp white of his shirt was now wrinkled and untucked, stained with something darker along the sleeves.But what caught her attention
Ilda’s reflection in the mirror was flawless—her dark eyes lined with precision, her lips painted a soft shade of rose, her hair cascading down in effortless waves. But beneath the surface, tension tightened her jaw.She exhaled slowly, fingers grazing over the strap of her small bag. She couldn’t afford mistakes.Then, as if on cue, her phone buzzed.She lifted it to her ear, her voice smooth but firm.“I’m ready.”A pause. Then a low voice on the other end responded.“Five minutes.”The call ended.Ilda’s grip on the phone tightened before she slid it into her bag. She straightened her posture, smoothing out her dress with practiced ease. She had played this game for a long time—secrecy was nothing new.She stepped outside just as a sleek black car pulled up. Without hesitation, she slipped inside.From the upstairs window, Olivia’s gaze followed the car as it moved down the long driveway.She pulled out her phone and, with a slow smirk, typed out the license plate number.“Let’s se
The air in the room was thick with tension, suffocating and heavy. His sharp gaze flickered between Evelyn, Betty, and the open jewelry box clutched in Betty’s smug grip.Evelyn’s face hardened. “Adrian, this is not your concern.”Adrian’s expression remained unreadable, but his eyes lingered on Crystal—her tear-streaked face, the way she trembled, her small hands clenched into fists at her sides.“Who found the jewelry?” His voice was calm, yet laced with something sharp.Betty lifted her chin. “I did. In her clothes.”Crystal swallowed hard, her body rigid with panic. “I didn’t put it there,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.Adrian exhaled sharply through his nose, rubbing his temple as if trying to suppress an impending headache. He turned back to Betty. “And you just happened to find it? In a place she would never hide something so obvious?”Betty’s lips thinned. “Are you implying I planted it?”Adrian arched his brow. “I didn’t say that. But it’s funny how quick y
The aroma of rich spices filled the mansion as Crystal stood over the stove, stirring a dish she had perfected long ago—a recipe she used to cook for Christian’s family. Her hands moved swiftly, multitasking between the simmering pot and the bread she was kneading. The house had fewer workers now, as most had resigned, unable to cope with the Blake family’s unpredictable temperaments.Crystal, however, had no choice.She had already finished the laundry, scrubbing the sheets and pressing clothes with aching hands. Now, the heat from the kitchen mixed with her exhaustion, making her head feel unbearably heavy. Her legs trembled beneath her, but she clenched her teeth and pushed through it. She couldn't afford to collapse.When the meal was ready, the caterers served it with precision. The family ate in silence, enjoying every bite—yet, not a single word of appreciation was uttered. Crystal wasn’t surprised. She simply took a step back, watching as plates emptied, her own stomach twisti
Evelyn’s cold gaze flickered between Betty and Crystal. Her silence was heavier than words, but when she finally spoke, her tone was sharp and laced with authority."Betty, if you have nothing better to do than act like a spoiled child, find yourself something useful." She didn’t wait for a response. “Don’t embarrass yourself further.”Betty’s mouth opened slightly, but Evelyn had already turned away, walking off as if the matter wasn’t worth another second of her time.The moment she was gone, Betty’s lips curled into a bitter smirk as she stepped closer to Crystal, lowering her voice to a threatening whisper.“You think you’ve won something?” She scoffed. “Let me make one thing clear—you’ll regret ever stepping foot in this house. I’m going to make your life miserable.”Crystal didn’t flinch, but her fingers tightened around the fabric of her dress. She knew Betty meant every word.********** The hospital air was cold, carrying the sterile scent of antiseptics and fresh linen. Ild
Adrian stepped into the supermarket, the cold air-conditioning brushing against his skin. His sharp eyes immediately scanned the aisles, and it didn’t take him long to spot her.Crystal was a few rows ahead, her small frame pushing a cart as she carefully checked the list Evelyn had given her. She moved slowly, her attention focused, oblivious to everything around her—including him.The supermarket was crowded, making it easy for him to stay unnoticed. He moved to the opposite side, pretending to browse the shelves, but his eyes kept flickering back to her.She looked… out of place.The oversized sweater she wore, the way she clutched the list like it was her lifeline, it was obvious she wasn’t used to simple things like this. It made something in him tighten.Adrian took his time, walking through the aisles and picking up random items—things he didn’t even need. He wasn’t in a hurry to leave, though he didn’t understand why he was lingering.Crystal, on the other hand, had already fi
The kitchen was quiet, except for the soft clinking of utensils as Crystal wiped down the counter. The faint aroma of butter and freshly brewed tea lingered in the air, but she barely noticed. Her hands moved mechanically, scrubbing away at a stubborn stain on the wooden surface.She wasn’t just cleaning; she was keeping herself occupied—trying to push away the endless thoughts clawing at her mind.Just then, the sound of heels clicking against the tiled floor made her pause.Evelyn entered, elegant as always, her sharp eyes sweeping over Crystal before she spoke. “You’ll need to go out for grocery shopping today.”Crystal turned, wiping her damp hands on the rag she held. Evelyn reached into her purse, pulling out a neatly folded list and a sleek black card.“Here,” she said, placing them on the counter. “Make sure you get everything on that list. And don’t take all day.”Crystal nodded silently, taking the list and card without question.Evelyn barely spared her another glance bef
The morning sunlight seeped through the mansion’s grand windows, casting a warm glow over the polished floors. Outside, the faint chirping of birds signaled the start of a new day, but inside Christian Blake’s private study, the air was thick with concentration.Christian sat behind his imposing mahogany desk, his sharp eyes glued to the screen as his fingers moved swiftly across the keyboard. The faint sound of typing filled the otherwise silent room, the only other movement being the slight furrow of his brow as he worked.The door creaked open.“Working already?”Olivia’s smooth voice cut through the quiet, carrying that usual tone of motherly observation mixed with something else—something subtle, unreadable.Christian didn’t look up immediately. “Morning, Mother,” he greeted, his voice even.Olivia stepped inside, her silk robe flowing elegantly around her as she made her way toward him. Her gaze swept across the room before landing on the pile of documents beside him.She til
The grand double doors of the Blake mansion swung open as Christian and Ilda stepped inside. The air was thick with an unspoken tension, the echoes of flashing cameras and relentless questions still lingering in their minds. The staff stood silently, bowing slightly as Christian walked past them without a glance, his grip on Ilda’s hand loosening the moment they were inside.The flashing cameras, the gasps, the way the media clung onto Christian’s every word—it was everything she had wanted. And when he declared her as someone special, his future wife, the mother of his heir, she felt an intoxicating rush of victory.But she couldn’t let it show.Not yet.She turned to Christian, schooling her expression into one of concern. She let her fingers trail lightly over her wrist, a subtle touch, hesitant. “Christian…” she murmured, her voice just soft enough to seem sincere.Christian walked to the bar without sparing her a glance. The crystal glass clinked against the counter as he po