The third year of their marriage, Elaine Faerwyn gazed at the woman sitting across from her and released a soft.
This was the ninety-ninth mistress of Alistair Chase's that she had handled-and unquestionably the most difficult of the lot.
No matter how substantial the settlement Elaine offered, this woman remained immovable, stubbornly insisting on staying by Alistair's side.
Elaine took a deliberate sip of her espresso, the bitter liquid matching her mood perfectly as her lips curved into a self-deprecating smile. "You really should name your price," she said, setting down the porcelain cup with a soft clink against the saucer. "He's a wanderer who's never found his star. Surely you can see that in him? I'm his wife, yet my primary function seems to be disposing of lovers he's grown bored with as you see now."
Despite Elaine's candid counsel, Vivian Turner showed not the slightest glimmer of comprehension. Instead, she tilted her chin upward with unmistakable defiance, her manicured hand sliding provocatively over her stomach with a smugness that made Elaine's skin crawl.
"I'm different," Vivian declared, eyes flashing with triumph. "You simply lack what it takes to hold his interest. Alistair loves me. He made sex with me day and day, can't bear to look away from my face, and his has practically memorized all my preferences."
"Besides," she added with calculated timing, "I just found out I'm carrying his baby..."
A child?
Elaine's gaze fixed on the woman's still-flat abdomen, her mind momentarily short-circuiting.
He had promised that he would never father a child to humiliate her publicly or privately.Alistair, you couldn't even keep the only pathetically small promise you made to me.
Her painted lips parted to respond, but before she could articulate the acid rising in her throat, the villa's doors swung open with theatrical timing.
Alistair Chase strode in, his iPhone screen still illuminated with an active call, his deep, whiskey-smooth voice flowing with practiced charm as he soothed whoever waited on the other end.
One glance was all Elaine needed to recognize the tell-tale signs, he'd already marked his next conquest.
Alistair looked up, momentarily caught off-guard by the tableau of two women in his living room, then quickly recalibrated, slipping into his signature devil-may-care expression. Leaning against a nearby table with casual dominance, he turned to Elaine "Dear, haven't you wrapped up this little mess yet?"
"Alistair, I'm pregnant, don't cast me aside, please?"
Vivian blurted out before Elaine could answer, rushing to his side with the desperation of a gambler placing her final bet, her expression transformed from Queen to supplicant.
At this revelation, he faltered visibly. For a moment, the carefully crafted mask of indifference slipped from his aristocratic features as he ended his call with a decisive thumb tap.
Alistair approached Vivian, his hand brushing over her stomach. Something cold and calculating flickered across his eyes.
He chuckled softly, the sound lacking any real warmth. "Since you're carrying my child, we'll maintain our arrangement. Go home for now," he instructed, his tone making it clear this wasn't a request. "I'll be in touch."
Having secured the answer she'd gambled for, Vivian finally relented, leaving the Chase mansion with undisguised triumph radiating from her carefully contoured face.
"Why?" Elaine asked once the front door closed with a decisive click, her voice laced with a bitterness she no longer bothered to disguise.
Alistair didn't bother with pretense one of his few redeeming qualities. As he walked toward his state-of-the-art bathroom, loosening his tie, he answered flatly"She resembles Sophia the most. I want a child with Sophia's features."
"Don't worry," he continued, unbuttoning his cuffs with practiced efficiency. "Once the baby is born, I'll send her packing with an NDA. Your position as Mrs. Chase- and all the privileges that accompany it—will remain untouchable."
Though his words confirmed he had no genuine feelings for Vivian, a sharp pain still lanced through Elaine's heart.
All because of that name-Sophia Adams.
Elaine and Alistair had grown up together in the same place.But his heart belonged only to Sophia, his golden-haired first love, taken tragically young in that devastating car accident on the coastal highway.
After Sophia's death, Alistair transformed from devoted romantic to Manhattan's most notorious playboy.
He'd conquered his way through New York's elite dating pool. Every eligible socialite except Elaine. She remained the only untouched name on the list-her features lacking any resemblance to Sophia's golden perfection.
Until three years ago, when Faerwyn Industries faced a hostile takeover while the Chase family board pressured Alistair to marry and project stability to nervous investors. Seeking a solution to both problems, he would leverage his vast resources to save her family's company in exchange for a marriage of convenience.
She agreed.
On their wedding night, he made things brutally clear-he was marrying her merely to silence his board and secure his inheritance. She couldn't interfere with his extramarital pursuits, but in return, he would ensure her position as Mrs. Chase remained unassailable. Most importantly, he would never father a child that might complicate their arrangement or humiliate her publicly.
What choice did Elaine have but to accept? Her father's legacy and thousands of employees' livelihoods depended on her sacrifice.
Thus began their elaborate charade of marital bliss. His parade of girlfriends continued uninterrupted, each one bearing some haunting resemblance to Sophia. Each time he tired of them, he deployed Elaine as his personal cleanup
crew.
She would deliver the same practiced speech, refined through countless repetitions"I'm his wife, and he doesn't even love me. How long do you expect him to love you? Take the money, sign the NDA, and salvage what's left of your dignity."
Among all his mistresses, Vivian Turner was Sophia's most perfect doppelgänger.
Elaine had anticipated he would treat Vivian differently. His previous relationships operated on a precise four-week timeline, yet with Vivian, it had stretched beyond six months. Still, she never imagined Vivian has a baby already, much less Elaine decide to accept this baby!
Elaine couldn't help wondering if Alistair truly believed she lacked all self-respect. Early in their marriage, he had "accidentally" discovered love letters she had written during their college years but never sent, revealing she had silently loved him for over a decade.
Perhaps that discovery was why he assumed she would tolerate anything.
She had endured his countless girlfriends, now he expected her to accept his decision to have a child that resembled Sophia. But this time, the last thread of her patience had finally snapped.
Coming back to herself, she watched Alistair's retreating figure disappear into the bathroom. With newfound resolve, she retrieved her phone and dialed a number.
"Mr. Davidson,is the divorce agreement I asked you to draft last week ready? I'll have my driver pick it up tomorrow morning."
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