The ambulance arrived in time. The baby survived.
I spent three days in the hospital. It wasn't until the day I was discharged that I received a call from Piers.
"You've had your little tantrum long enough, haven't you? There's a reception tonight. You're coming with me."
So that was it. Three days of complete silence, and he'd assumed I was sulking. That the cold shoulder was deliberate punishment for my so-called rebellion.
I wanted to refuse, but the hostess, Mrs. Xu, had been one of my mother's closest friends. I couldn't not go.
At the reception, Piers played his usual role to perfection, intercepting every glass of wine offered my way. The women around us practically swooned.
"Mr. Stephens is so attentive. He never lets his wife touch a single drop."
"Remember that fool who tried to pressure Mrs. Stephens into drinking? He flipped on the spot. Who would've guessed that a man with such impeccable composure would put someone in the hospital over it?"
"That's what they say. Love your wife and the fortune follows. Just look at how far Stephens Corp has come!"
I smiled through all of it, but the smile never reached my eyes.
The devotion they envied was nothing more than a carefully constructed illusion. Only I knew what filthy betrayal and calculation lurked behind it.
The words had barely settled when Julie glided over on the arm of a date.
"Hey, sis. Hey, brother-in-law." She leaned into her companion's shoulder with practiced intimacy. "Let me introduce you. This is my boyfriend."
Piers's smile froze. A sharp crack split the air as the champagne flute shattered in his bare hand.
He seized Julie by the arm and wrenched her away from the man. "Come with me."
"Piers, what are you doing?!"
He said nothing. His face was ashen as he dragged her away, leaving the entire room buzzing.
I had no interest in cleaning up their mess. I slipped out during the commotion.
The evening breeze on the terrace swept away the noise of the banquet hall, but it carried something else: voices, sharp and furious, from just around the corner.
"Weren't you the one who wanted to draw the line? So why do you care what I do?!"
Piers's voice was glacial. "You're carrying my child, and you have the nerve to parade around with another man?"
"So what? My boyfriend doesn't mind. He'll raise this baby as his own!"
"Over my dead body." Piers turned to go after the man, but stopped short when he spotted me standing in the shadows.
Something shifted behind his eyes. He glanced at Julie, then closed the distance between us in one stride and crushed his mouth against mine.
The kiss was brutal and cold. Revulsion rippled through me like an electric shock.
I fought to pull away, but his arm locked around my waist like a vise.
Humiliation crashed over me in waves. He was using me. Using me as a prop to provoke Julie.
Right on cue, a choked sob rose behind him. Emboldened, Piers pressed harder, yanking down my dress strap and shoving his hand beneath the fabric.
"Let go of me!" I snarled, but he only tightened his grip.
Then came the sound of approaching chaos.
Julie had brought an audience. A crowd of guests surged toward the terrace, her trembling voice leading the charge. "I saw a man drag my sister out here! Someone please help her!"
Piers froze. He fumbled to pull my gown back into place and stepped in front of me.
"Get out!"
The guests recognized him, and nervous laughter rippled through the group.
"Oh, it's just Mr. Stephens!"
"The lovebirds were having a moment. Ms. Harding, you had us worried over nothing!"
Julie's tears streamed freely. "I'm so sorry, sis. I was just worried about you..."
Piers saw right through her jealousy, and he couldn't hide his satisfaction. "That's enough. Don't cause a scene next time."
Before he could finish, Julie's eyes rolled back and she collapsed.
"Julie!" His pupils contracted. The cold indifference he'd worn while using me vanished in an instant, replaced by raw panic and desperate tenderness.
He didn't hesitate for a single second. He dropped me, scooped Julie into his arms, and charged out of the banquet hall. "Call an ambulance!"
The moment he let go, my gown slipped free and pooled around me. Bare skin flashed under the chandelier light.
I grabbed for the fabric, but it was already too late.
Camera flashes erupted like a hailstorm, so blinding I couldn't keep my eyes open.
"Stop! Don't!" I shielded myself uselessly. "Stop taking pictures!"
No one listened. I clutched the gown to my body, fingernails digging through the fabric and into my palms.
Through the relentless storm of shutter clicks, I stared in the direction Piers had disappeared, and the hatred inside me grew like thorned vines wrapping around every rib.
Piers Stephens. Everything you did to me tonight, I will repay tenfold in three days.
