20

Helen Vale The soup hit the wall hard enough to splatter across the cabinets. Hot broth slid slowly down the white paint while noodles clung to the surface like dying worms. I stared at the mess in silence. “Are you trying to poison me?!” Sebastian snapped. Three weeks ago, this same man had kissed my stomach while fastening diamonds around my wrist. Now he was screaming over soup. Funny how quickly love changed once money disappeared. “I said I’m sorry,” I muttered, gripping the edge of the counter tighter. “Sorry doesn’t fix anything!” he barked. His mother sat stiffly at the dining table, arms folded tightly across her chest, lips pursed in permanent irritation. “I told you she couldn’t cook,” she muttered loudly. “Katherine never burned food.” The name hit like acid. Katherine. Even now. Even after everything— she was still here. Still haunting this house. Still standing between me and peace somehow. I looked away before either of them could see the hatred flashing across my face. The kitchen looked smaller these days. Darker. Cheap. The servants were gone. The extra staff gone too. No more expensive flowers arriving every morning. No more designer packages. No more luxury dinners. No more admiration. Because after the party— after Tyrant Luciano Zarkov publicly humiliated us— everything collapsed frighteningly fast. Mother lost her Elder seat within forty-eight hours. The investigations started immediately after. Frozen accounts. Property seizures. Questions. So many questions. Apparently running illegal untaxed businesses inside territory owned by a psychotic immortal emperor was considered a terrible life decision. Who knew? “Sebastian,” his mother started carefully, “yelling won’t solve anything.” He laughed harshly. “Nothing is solved! Nothing!” He dragged both hands through his hair. “Do you even understand what happened to us?” Oh, I understood perfectly. Katherine happened. Again. Always Katherine. Except this time she wasn’t crying quietly in some corner waiting to be chosen. This time she stood beside the most terrifying man on the continent while an entire ballroom watched Sebastian fall apart. And the worst part? She looked happy. That was the part I couldn’t forgive. Not the wine she threw at me. Not the humiliation. Not even Luciano calling me a parasite in front of half the empire. No. It was the fact that Katherine looked alive. Radiant. Beautiful. Wanted. As if losing Sebastian had somehow improved her life instead of destroying it. That was wrong. That was deeply, horribly wrong. Because Katherine Harrington was supposed to stay pathetic. That was the natural order of things. “Then hire a maid if you want restaurant food,” I snapped finally. Silence. Sebastian turned slowly. “What did you say?” “I said hire a maid,” I repeated coldly. “I’m pregnant, stressed, exhausted, and currently living in a downgraded prison because your obsession with Katherine exploded in our faces.” His eyes widened slightly. There it was. The truth he hated hearing. His obsession. Not love. Never love. Because if Sebastian had truly loved Katherine, he wouldn’t have treated her the way he did. And if he truly loved me— he wouldn’t look so disappointed every time he realized I wasn’t her. His mother stood abruptly. “Watch your mouth,” she hissed. “My son ruined his entire life for you!” I laughed. Actually laughed. “Your son ruined his life because he’s weak.” Sebastian moved before I finished the sentence. His palm slammed against the counter beside me hard enough to crack the wood. “Enough.” For one brief moment, genuine fear crawled through me. Then it vanished. Because I knew Sebastian. And Sebastian would never truly hurt me. Not physically. Emotionally? That was different. Emotionally he destroyed everything he touched. I folded my arms slowly. “You know what your problem is?” I asked quietly. His jaw tightened. “You lost Katherine and suddenly you realized she was useful.” His mother gasped sharply. Sebastian looked furious enough to kill me. Good. Truth usually had that effect. “She cleaned your messes,” I continued. “She waited around while you chased me like some lovesick i***t. She signed papers whenever you wanted. She forgave everything.” I tilted my head. “And now she’s gone.” The silence afterward felt ugly. Heavy. Sebastian stepped back first. Not me. Never me. Because I had spent my whole life learning one simple rule: The person who hesitates loses. I learned that from my mother. My father used to call her beautiful in the same tone men described disasters. Like he already knew she would ruin him. She had been his mistress first. A pretty Omega waitress who smiled at the right time and cried at the right moments. Then his Luna found out. Then the scandals started. Then the drinking started. Then one morning they found my father hanging in his office while my mother stood downstairs pretending to mourn him. Three months later she moved into the Elder estate. That was my childhood. Not love. Survival. Mother taught me quickly: Beauty mattered. Status mattered. Power mattered. Love was useful only when attached to those things. So when Sebastian first chased me years ago, I laughed at him. A struggling writer from a mediocre pack with too much devotion in his eyes. Pathetic. I left Blackthorn two weeks later without even saying goodbye. And honestly? I had fun. Lots of it. New cities. New men. Expensive gifts. Temporary excitement. Then one night became several. Several became careless. Careless became pregnancy. I still remembered staring at the positive test in a nightclub bathroom while music pounded through the walls. I wasn’t devastated. Just annoyed. Then I saw Sebastian online by accident three weeks later. Interview clips. Magazine covers. Book tours. Money. So much money. I watched one interview where the female host asked if he was seeing anyone. And Sebastian— stupid loyal Sebastian— said softly: “There’s only ever been one woman for me.” Me. I called him that same night. He answered on the first ring. Of course he did. I tested him first. Dinner. Drinks. Touching his hand. Watching him melt all over again. Then we slept together. And afterward, while he held me like I was something sacred, I told him I was pregnant. I never said the baby was his. Not directly. Sebastian simply wanted it to be true badly enough to lie to himself. Men did that often around beautiful women. Then Katherine became inconvenient. Too present. Too patient. Too loved in quiet ways neither of us wanted to acknowledge. So I fixed it. Or tried to. Now here I was. No Elder status. No luxury. No security. And worst of all— no victory. Because Katherine Harrington had somehow become untouchable. My thoughts drifted unwillingly back to the ballroom. To Luciano. The way he stood behind her like violence given human form. The way his hand never left her waist. The way he looked at her. Not obsession. Not possession alone. Something worse. Reverence. I hated it immediately. Because no man had ever looked at me like that. Not Sebastian. Not anyone. Men desired me. Fought over me. But Luciano Zarkov looked at Katherine like the world itself would burn before he allowed her to suffer again. And deep down— beneath all the anger— I understood something terrifying. Katherine had won. Not the party. Not the argument. Everything. And for the first time in my life— I had absolutely no idea how to take it back.