They arrived at the Harding estate at five sharp. Adrian had cleared his evening schedule, pushing aside a social engagement specifically for this visit.
The moment they stepped into the foyer, Bonnie Harding was lounging on the sofa, watching TV, looking radiant.
Sara slipped into her house slippers and approached with a smile. "Mom, why are you all dressed up today? You look stunning."
"I just threw this on." The delight on Bonnie's face betrayed her. "Look at that mouth of yours—sweet as honey, as always."
She didn't even need to look up to know who had arrived. Her affection for her daughter-in-law was genuine.
Sara sat beside her, leaning in close. "I came here to mooch a free meal, so naturally, I have to sing for my supper. Otherwise, how could I have the nerve to eat and drink here?"
From the single armchair nearby, a scoff shattered the warmth. Bella Harding sat scrolling through her iPad, her expression sour.
"Greet her." Adrian's voice was low. Final. He didn't indulge his sister's petty games.
Bella was terrified of him. Reluctantly, she muttered, "Sister-in-law," without lifting her eyes from the screen.
In reality, Sara and Bella were the same age. The title felt forced coming from Bella's mouth, and Sara found it equally awkward to hear.
"I heard your design won an award recently." Sara placed a velvet jewelry box on the coffee table. "A belated congratulations. I hope you don't mind."
Bella glanced at it. "They say it's easy to go from frugality to luxury, but hard to return to poverty. You really went all out, Sister-in-law. This brand isn't cheap."
"Only the best for you," Sara replied smoothly.
The sarcasm rolled off her back. Besides, the money came from the same source—Adrian paid the bill, and she'd picked up something for herself while she was at it.
Perhaps Bonnie had warned her beforehand, because Bella knew when to quit.
Shortly after, Elijah Harding emerged from his study, and dinner officially began.
At the table, the topic of an heir finally surfaced—late, but inevitable.
The Hardings laid down the law for Adrian, who was approaching thirty: within a year, quit smoking and drinking, start preparing for a baby.
Boy or girl, it didn't matter. As long as the child was healthy. They even offered to raise it at the estate so the couple wouldn't be burdened.
Sara focused on the spare ribs on her plate, silent throughout the lecture.
*In a year?*
The contract would have long expired by then. Who knew which woman would be fulfilling this duty for him?
She certainly didn't expect that later, back in their room, Adrian—stoic all evening—would lean against the doorframe and bring it up himself.
"Do you want one?" Those dark eyes fixed on her. "If you like kids, we can have one."
Was he joking? Testing her?
His expression gave nothing away.
"Having one is fine." Sara walked over to him, gripping his tie, her breath hitching softly. "But Mr. Harding will have to add a surcharge to our original agreement."
"Name your price."
Blunt. Businesslike.
Sara curled her lips. "Unfortunately, I'm not taking orders right now."
A child wasn't a commodity. She wanted any baby of hers to be born into a loving family. Her parents had died young, leaving her to grow up in an orphanage. No one understood the hollow ache of being unwanted better than she did.
Adrian leaned in, his hot breath fanning across her cheek. "You won't take money when it's offered? Developing new clients behind my back?"
"Husband, are you jealous?"
She only used that title on specific occasions.
It was always dripping with insincerity.
Perhaps it was the atmosphere, or the way her red lips parted slightly, inviting a taste. Adrian didn't think. He acted.
A man and a woman alone—it took only a spark to ignite dry tinder. Passion swept through the room instantly.
In bed, their chemistry was undeniable. A single glance from Adrian, and Sara knew exactly what he wanted.
But right at the critical moment, his phone buzzed.
"Adrian, can you help me…"
Eva James.
For convenience, he'd answered on speaker, not expecting the unfamiliar number to belong to his ex-girlfriend.
The lust in the room evaporated.
Adrian glanced at Sara, grabbed his phone, and walked out to the balcony.
She couldn't hear the conversation, but through the glass, his brow furrowed deeper with every passing second.
It looked urgent.
*The hero saving the damsel in distress*—a classic cliché. But if he left tonight, it would prove his earlier coldness toward Eva was nothing more than an act.
When he returned, he was already buttoning his shirt.
"Are you going out?" Sara asked, though she already knew the answer.
Adrian loosened his tie slightly. "Hoping I'll leave?"
Before she could respond, he grabbed her ankle under the duvet and pulled her toward him.
Staring into his eyes—black whirlpools threatening to drown her—Sara felt momentarily dazed.
Feelings aside, he was a qualified husband. Handsome, wealthy, attentive in bed. Occasionally, when his mood was right, he'd take her shopping or dining. There were moments she almost deluded herself into thinking he loved her.
But the spell shattered as quickly as it had formed.
After a brief, rough round of intimacy, they fell asleep tangled together.
In the middle of the night, thirst woke her. She reached out—
The space beside her was cold.
Sara checked the time. 4:00 AM.
Adrian was gone.
Only a set of discarded pajamas lay crumpled on the floor.
Cast aside.
Just like her.
