Brigitta had no idea how she managed to walk out of the hospital. Despite the doctor’s repeated warnings, she insisted on signing her own discharge papers.
She sent Kaspian a message, telling him she had matters to settle first and that they could meet up afterward. The last thing she wanted was for anyone she knew to see her in such a messy state.
So, she hailed a cab and went straight home.
Standing under the showerhead, letting the water pour down her body, Brigitta replayed what had just happened. She still couldn’t believe it—was Damien really unable to see through Irene’s cheap lies?
No. He simply didn’t want Irene to feel guilty.
Brigitta looked at her bandaged hand and forehead. Just like in her past lives, whenever Damien and Irene were involved, she ended up covered in injuries. This time, she decided to leave first thing in the morning and rejoin her expedition team earlier than planned.
The next morning, Brigitta carefully cleaned her wounds and dressed herself properly.
Before leaving, she planned to visit the Arkwright mansion. She intended to return the family’s heirloom—the emerald bracelet Lena had personally entrusted to her—and to formally announce that their wedding was off.
The bracelet had been passed down for generations; only the Arkwrights’ daughter-in-law was allowed to wear it. According to the press, it was worth billions.
But before Brigitta even opened the door, movers were already hauling in crates of supplements, health tonics and specialty foods.
She froze in confusion, just as Damien walked in arm-in-arm with Irene. They eventually stopped and got face to face with Brigitta at the entrance.
“So much for saying you wouldn’t marry me. Why are you still here? You're just putting on a show.”
Brigitta sighed. “Damien, this place was bought by both our families. It’s not just yours. I’m not squatting in your home—this is my home, too.”
Her eyes caught on his hand resting gently on Irene’s stomach. The sight made her pause.
Then Damien’s gaze shifted to the bag slung over her shoulder. “Where are you going with that?”
“None of your business,” Brigitta said flatly.
The man ignored her tone and went on casually, “Irene’s pregnant. She can’t stay elsewhere anymore—she needs to be here to rest. You can pack your things and move into the guest room.”
Irene placed her hand over his. “Ms. Holmund, I should really thank you. If you hadn’t frightened me into fainting and ending up in the hospital, I wouldn’t have found out I was carrying Damien’s child.”
She buried her face against his chest, their intimacy felt sickeningly sweet.
Brigitta had anticipated the news from their gestures, but hearing it confirmed still struck her.
Irene actually got pregnant. In all her past lives, this had never happened. Still, none of it mattered anymore.
Brigitta turned to leave. “Do whatever you want. I’m already moving out.”
Damien grabbed her arm and frowned. “Moving out? No one asked you to leave. I just said to clear out your things for Irene’s sake. She’s frail, she needs someone to look after her. You’ll take care of her during the pregnancy.”
Brigitta gave a bitter laugh. “Me? Take care of your mistress? Why on earth would I do that?”
“I won't give her a title,” Damien said, “but the child will have one. My heir, an Arkwright. And if it bothers you, I’ll give you a child too—but we’ll claim it’s illegitimate. I won’t let Irene’s child have to share its inheritance.”
Tears welled in Irene’s eyes as she clung to him.
“Damien… you’re so good to me. I’ll give you as many children as you want.”
Brigitta sneered. “Then go ahead and keep having them. But not with me. We’ll never have children together. And I’m certainly not going to nurse her through a pregnancy. I’m leaving.”
As she reached for the door handle, Irene noticed the heirloom emerald bracelet on Brigitta's wrist.
“Damien! Look at her bracelet—I want it! It’s beautiful,” Irene turned to Damien.
Without hesitation, Damien pulled out his phone, activating the mansion's remote locks. “Irene likes it. Take it off. Consider it a gift to the child.”
Brigitta stared at him in disbelief. “Damien, that bracelet is your family’s heirloom! It’s not something you just hand over!”
He dismissed her. “It’s just an object. My mother gave it to you, why shouldn’t Irene have it? Don’t pretend this isn’t about the title it represents. Take it off yourself, or I’ll do it for you.”
Brigitta didn’t want him touching her. Without another word, she slid the bracelet from her wrist and handed it to Irene.
Irene’s face lit up, but the next it got twisted with malice. She intentionally loosened her grip. As a result, the emerald bracelet shattered against the floor.
Irene ducked behind Damien, tears brimming again. “Ms. Holmund, if you didn’t want to give it to me, you don't have to smash it out of spite!”
Brigitta stared at the fragments on the ground—the very last tie she had to Damien.
Slap!
Damien’s palm struck her face.
“So petty. You’d rather destroy it than give it to her? You’ll pay for this. I'll sue the Holmunds!”
