"Our matrimonial home is not a hospital to admit a sick person. We don't have a nanny either." Selina declared. "Well, I can see she truly needs a treatment for her morality as well. But not here." She taunted, causing Maura's perfect sick facade to crack.
Despite Selina knowing Zane barely comes home, she didn't expect him to bring his mistress into their home. Not even on the day of their anniversary!
Her thoughts drifted to that day when she learned of their relationship. But all Zane did was to reprimand her. He told her that she had no right to question his relationships, and his private life shouldn't bother her either.
While Maura frowned at Selina's dismissal, Zane locked his usual frosty eyes on Selina.
"I own this house," he countered. "You don't make the decisions here. If you're unhappy, tolerate it."
The words struck Selina like a physical blow.
"That's the same reason I had to watch your meal go cold," she muttered quietly while her weary eyes slid to Maura. "Did you later forget what today meant? Or was this the reason again?"
"I remember what it meant to you,"
"And you didn't call to tell me there was a change of mind?"
"Why should I call?" He asked as his voice edged with irritation at her tantrum.
"Because I was hoping for us, Zane! That tonight will forever change things between us," she replied inwardly, biting the bottom of her lips hard until it drew blood to bear the ache that cuts to the core.
Selina nodded once, absorbing the weight of everything when she saw there was no slightest remorse in him. Not even in his eyes, since she understood he was the cold-hearted kind who barely expressed himself.
Without another word, she turned and made her way toward the staircase, her steps heavy with all she left unsaid.
"Please, Zane," Maura murmured, clutching his arm. "Don't send me away because of her. You know I can't stay alone when I'm vulnerable. What if something happens?"
Zane gently loosened her grip. "I won't leave you alone."
"But will I be safe here?"
"You're in my mansion, not on the street."
"I know," she said softly, twisting her face in a feigned frightened look. "But Selina is upset. What if she hurts me? Can't you send her somewhere else?"
"She won't," he declared, his expression hardening. "Not under my watch,"
"I hope so. I don't feel safe around her."
.....
Inside the walk-in closet, Selina stood motionless. Her fingers white-knuckled the hem of her nightgown, trembling as she fought to keep her composure from shattering.
She had prayed this was a nightmare she could wake from. But the cold air of the room offered no such mercy. This was her reality: she was a ghost in his house, a woman with no permanent place in her husband's life.
The door creaked. Footsteps, heavy and rhythmic, approached. Selina didn't need to turn to know who it was. She frantically wiped the stray tears with the back of her hand, turning her back to the entrance. She pretended to be occupied with the wardrobe until his shadow swallowed hers.
As she reached for a handle, a firm hand slammed against the wood, pinning her.
She was trapped between the unyielding closet and the heat of his body. The strong scent of alcohol reeking from him filled her senses. A raw nausea hit her throat, but she forced it down; she couldn't afford to expose the little life yet.
"What are you doing?" Zane's voice was a low, glacial murmur.
"Moving out," Selina whispered, her gaze fixed on the grain of the wood. "I won't make this home inconvenient for you both any longer."
Zane's brows narrowed with a flicker of something dangerous.
"You have never said no to me." His tone shifted to a sharp edge of surprise. "When did you grow bold enough to defy an order?"
Selina swiftly spun to face him, her eyes wide and burning with raw hurt. "Are you pretending you don't know? You expect me to welcome your mistress into our home? Are you serious?"
"Are you jealous, woman?" he pressed, his eyes narrowing as if her hurt were a mere curiosity.
That was it, woman.
The word stung more than a slap as her heart sank. The fragile urge to argue died in her throat. She walked past him and moved toward her bed, her steps hollow.
The way she walked away hit Zane hard; his jaw clenched as he stormed after her.
As she attempted to climb onto the mattress, his hand clamped around her arm like a vice. He jerked her back, her spine colliding with his broad chest.
"Don't walk out on me, Little Bunny," he hissed.
The nickname sent a chill down her spine. Tonight would be a cold, loveless encounter.
"What else do you want to hear from me?" Her lips quivered, voice tight.
"Is this about the anniversary dinner I missed?" His husky voice dripped with taunts rather than an apology.
Zane tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his breath hot against her neck as he inhaled her scent with eyes closed. No matter how he tried to crush his desire for her, he couldn't deny that she smelled intoxicating.
His jaw tightened as desire—dark and burning—overtook his irritation.
"If protecting my dignity is insolence, then I don't care," she said yet her body shivered under his touch, which wrapped around her slender waist.
"Don't do something stupid, Selina," he warned. He spun her around, cinching her waist so tightly her breath hitched as she met his amber eyes—a gaze that lacked any trace of warmth.
"Strip, Little Bunny," he added firmly.
There was no tenderness, nor desire — only the heavy weight of possession.
Selina nodded, her stomach tight. It wasn't desire that made her move — just the familiarity of routine she decided to follow.
Her finger brushed against the knot of her nightgown strap tied to the side. Then she pulled it with one drag, and the dress flipped open.
She slipped it off her shoulder, walked up to the soft bed, and lay beneath his intense stare while he stripped as well.
Zane moved closer and knelt between her. His gaze lingered on her skin, unreadable as usual.
He kissed her navel, and Selina swallowed hard, her mind flickering to the fragile life he knew nothing about. He moved upward, claiming her chest in his mouth while his hand squeezed firmly on the other. A small devilish smirk appeared on his lips as her body arched despite herself.
"So... I'm compensating you for the missed dinner. Having sex on the anniversary between couples is a special thing. Isn't it?" He murmured in between, his touch became slightly firmer.
"Yes, it is," she whispered, her voice trembling at the mix of emotions and the heat his touch ignited.
Zane grasped her legs, anchoring them around his waist. He thrust inside her, gripping her hips firmly yet without any hint of desire.
She clutched the duvet as he went fast, giving her no break. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, tense and unrestrained, echoing in the dimly lit room.
She couldn't look away from his eyes, which remained unreadable. Yet, the faint scent of lavender that clung to him did nothing to ease the pull she felt toward him.
Heat rose to her cheek as her body reacted against her will. Her hands clutched his shoulders, pulling him closer, trembling under the intense motion.
That smirk on his lips didn't waver as he listened to her soul call out his name.
"F**k!" Zane groaned sharply as he reached his climax after a long time. He pulled out quickly, spilling onto the sheets.
He would rather spill over a rock than let it happen inside her by mistake.
Eventually, he let her go.
Selina lay naked and motionless, her body too exhausted to move. It was an intimacy without a shred of love; she was there to satisfy the physical routine.
She worried for the unborn child, hoping the intensity wouldn't affect the life within her. Her hand instinctively moved to her belly beneath the sheet, wrapping around it.
"Be sure to take the pills," Zane reminded her, fastening his pants. Even though he had slipped away from her, he wouldn't afford a mistake.
Once dressed, he strode out of her room without a second glance, heading to his own quarters as usual.
Selina stared at the small container on the nightstand — a cold reminder of her unworthiness. Tears dripped onto the sheet as she locked her gaze on the empty doorway.
"Why not stop loving him, Selina?" she whispered to the silence, clutching the duvet tightly against her bare skin.