Chase finally looked at me, his expression a mask of manufactured concern. "Alyssa, please. Indiana isn't well. This isn't the time."
"The time? When is the time, Chase? When you're done playing doting father to her child?" The raw pain in my voice surprised even myself.
Indiana straightened up, her feigned weakness evaporating. "Alyssa, how can you be so cruel? This baby is a Swanson! Chase loves this baby." Her words were a venomous dart, aimed precisely at the deepest wound.
"A Swanson?" I laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. "Last I checked, I was the Mrs. Swanson. And I'm carrying a Swanson child too."
The air in the room froze. Chase's face went white, then mottled with anger. Indiana gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, but her eyes held a predatory gleam.
"You're pregnant?" Chase's voice was a low growl, devoid of any joy, only accusation.
"Yes, Chase. After years of trying, years of heartbreak, I'm finally pregnant. And it's yours. Our baby." I watched his face, searching for any hint of the happiness we had once shared, of the dreams we'd whispered about. There was nothing. Only cold calculation.
Indiana spoke again, her voice now a saccharine sweet whisper. "Oh, Alyssa, honey, I'm so sorry. You must be so confused. Chase and I... we've been together for months. This baby... it's the Swanson heir." She paused, letting that sink in. "And your baby, well, it's a little complicated, isn't it? A complication the family can't afford right now."
Chase remained silent, his inaction a resounding endorsement of Indiana's cruel words. He just stood there, letting her dismantle my life, piece by agonizing piece.
"Don't worry," Indiana continued, stepping closer, her voice dropping to a theatrical whisper, "Chase will make sure you're taken care of. A very generous settlement. And of course, the family will ensure your... little problem... disappears quietly." She patted my arm, a gesture of fake sympathy that made my stomach churn.
I pulled away from her touch as if she were poison. "You think I'll just, what, disappear? Let you take my husband, my home, and claim his child as your own?"
Chase finally intervened, his face a mask of strained patience. "Alyssa, we need to talk. Alone. There are... corporate implications. A merger is at stake. Billions. This is about protecting the family, our legacy." He tried to take my hand, but I recoiled.
"Legacy?" I scoffed. "Is that what you call it? A legacy built on lies and betrayal?"
He lowered his voice, his tone almost pleading. "I know this is hard. But this is for the best. For everyone. Especially for you. We can make this work. We can co-parent, unofficially. We'll find a way." He offered a weak, placating smile, as if this monstrous arrangement was something I would accept.
"Co-parent?" My voice rose. "You want me to raise my child in secret, while you parade her, the 'true' heir, around? You want me to be your mistress, your secret baby mama?"
"No, no, of course not!" He sounded genuinely shocked, as if he hadn't considered the implications of his own words. "I just... I want us to be a family. A different kind of family. We'll still be together. I promise." He tried to pull me into a hug, but I stood stiff and unresponsive.
"We need to put on a united front, Alyssa," he insisted, his voice softening, "for the public. For the investors. Come, let's go to brunch. Clementina is waiting. We can discuss everything there. Just for an hour. Please." It was less an invitation and more an order, wrapped in a thin veneer of civility.
As we walked towards the dining room, Indiana, now clinging to Chase's arm, deliberately brushed past me, her hip gently bumping mine. "Such a good husband," she purred, looking up at Chase with adoration, "always thinking of others. You're so selfless."
Chase squeezed her hand, a small, intimate gesture. He looked at her, his eyes full of tenderness again, and then glanced at me, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze.
At the brunch table, Clementina greeted Chase and Indiana with effusive warmth, completely ignoring me. "Darling, you look radiant!" she gushed to Indiana. "And your little one, I can feel the Swanson strength already!"
Chase, ever the dutiful son, smiled at his mother. "She's doing well, Mother. Just a bit of morning sickness." He then turned to me, his smile dropping, and simply said, "Alyssa, eat something." It wasn't a suggestion, it was a command, delivered with a chilling lack of warmth. He reached for a croissant, offering it to Indiana first with a small, knowing smile. He knew I preferred the fruit tart. He always did.
