I followed them upstairs. Timothy kept his arm around Xandria’s waist, playing the gentleman, acting like I wasn’t three steps behind watching my own life collapse in slow motion.
Then like a switch flipped—he shoved her against the wall, his hand flat on her stomach.
“Elio can wait. You and me? We’ve got unfinished business.”
Xandria gasped, her cheeks already flushed. They disappeared into an empty storage room, the door slamming shut behind them.
I stood there. Frozen. And then the sound started.
The moans.
The rustle of clothes.
Timothy’s voice, low and guttural, muffled through the thin wall. “Fuck, Xandria… you’ve had my kid and you’re still this goddamn tight?”
She giggled, breathless. “What, Charlene’s loose now?”
My body went numb. I slid to the cold floor, back against the wall, hands trembling like a drug withdrawal. But I didn’t scream. Didn’t cry. I listened. Like some pathetic ghost.
“Charlene’s too stiff,” Timothy growled. “Too proper. She lays there like a mannequin. Always so careful, so fucking delicate.” He paused, then laughed low and dirty. “But you? You’re real. You lived. You ran wild. That foreign blood of yours… goddamn, Xandria, it made you into something else.”
I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood.
“Even the way you smell,” he went on, “God, you walk into a room and men turn. Charlene walks in and nobody notices. Not even the waiters.”
Xandria moaned again.
“You always knew how to take me. No hesitation. No performance. You just… are.”
My nails tore into my palm. Skin broke. Warm blood met cold tile.
That was Timothy.
My husband.
The same man who used to pull me close at parties. Kiss my temple in front of cameras. Promise forever. Now panting like a dog for the woman who wrecked it all—and making sure I could hear every second.
I didn’t wait for more. I pushed myself up, legs numb, heart hollow, and walked out before I started screaming. Because if I stayed another second, I might’ve set the building on fire.
---
Inside the office, the director stood waiting.
“Miss Riccardo,” he said, polite but guarded. “Just want to confirm—are you and Mr. Colombo still planning to adopt Elio?”
I didn’t answer immediately. My voice came out calm, colder than I expected. “Let me see his records first.”
He handed them over. I flipped through casually—until the birthdate jumped out like a blade to the gut.
Born: Spring. Five years ago.
Six months after Timothy got down on one knee and told me I was the only woman he’d ever love.
While I was tasting wedding cakes and planning color palettes, Xandria was giving birth to his son.
A slow, blistering rage bloomed in my chest. It crawled up my throat and sat like acid on my tongue.
I handed the file back without blinking.
“We’re not adopting him. Let another family give him a real shot.”
The director nodded. No surprise in his eyes. He already knew.
---
Then the door slammed open.
“What the fuck do you mean we’re not?”
Timothy strode in like he still owned the place, snatching the papers off the desk like they were his birthright.
“Who said I changed my mind? You don’t get to make that call alone.”
I didn’t even flinch.
“Oh, now it’s a ‘we’? You didn’t mention adopting him to me once, Timothy. Not once.”
He stared at me, jaw flexing, no words. Because there were none. And then—of course—she appeared.
Xandria.
Wearing ivory like she was the fucking Virgin Mary. Her heels clicked like gunshots on the tiles.
“Hey, Charlene,” she said with a sugar-sweet smile. “Been a while. You look… tired.”
I didn’t bother replying. Timothy, now clearly sweating, gestured to her like she was a pop-up guest at a cocktail party.
“Xandria’s… she’s a shareholder. I didn’t know she’d be here today.”
I narrowed my eyes. “And that’s connected to adopting Elio how?”
He stiffened. I cornered him, and he hated that.
“Charlene, don’t be like this. You’re being cold. Elio’s just a kid. He needs stability.”
“I’m being cold?” I laughed, one short bitter note. “You fed me lies for five years, and I’m the cold one?”
Xandria stepped closer, brushing her manicured hand over mine like we were friends at a spa.
“I was honestly touched when Timothy said you agreed to raise Elio. I thought… wow. Maybe Charlene really has a heart under all that boardroom steel.”
I smiled—tight, sharp. “Then why don’t you adopt him, sweetheart?”
Her lips twitched. Just a flicker. But I saw it. She wasn’t used to being talked back to. Timothy stepped forward like a shield. Always her knight when I was the queen that built the damn castle.
“Don’t start, Charlene. She’s not married. It wouldn’t make sense for her to raise a child alone.”
That hit harder than he realized. So now he defends her reputation, but when the entire city whispered I was barren? He said nothing?
For five years, I was told:
“Let’s focus on our careers.”
“Now’s not the right time.”
“It’ll happen when it’s meant to.”
Meanwhile, they whispered that I was damaged. That I’d had abortions. That I couldn’t give him an heir. Even his mother—Mira, that perfectly powdered viper—once told me I was “a hen too old to lay.”
And Timothy? He bought me jewelry to shut me up and stayed quiet. Bought me orchids. Fuck.
That was love?
The door creaked open again. Mira Colombo.
Elegant. Icy. Eyes like polished knives.
“Charlene, dear,” she said sweetly, walking in like she wasn’t the reason I cried into my pillow for months. “Don’t make a scene. You know how emotional women in your position get.”
“Position?” I echoed. “You mean the one you helped engineer?”
She raised an eyebrow. “We all play roles. You were necessary at the time. No shame in that.”
Xandria smirked, leaning into Timothy. “Some women are born to wear the ring. Some just keep it warm for a while.”
Timothy said nothing. Not a word. Not even to defend me. I stared straight at him.
“Do you even want a child with me, Timothy?”
I already knew the answer. He looked away. Eyes fixed on a stain on the wall.
“Let’s give it a few more years. The business is expanding. Timing’s—”
“Fine.”
I cut him off.
I felt hollow.
Dead. But I smiled anyway. Let him think he won.
He pulled me into a hug, so smug, so satisfied.
“That’s why I love you. You always understand.”
Behind him, Xandria watched me with glittering eyes.
And I saw it.
The envy. The obsession. The hunger.
She didn’t just want him.
She wanted my throne.
That’s when it hit me—
“When love fades, someone’s always waiting to replace you.”
But I wasn’t going to be replaced. Not quietly. Not politely. Not in designer heels and silence.
