Chapter 3
“Sis, that hotel suite from your honeymoon? The sheets still have stains from when we fucked on them.”
“Doesn’t Theo swear he holds you every single night? Wanna bet I can get him to come running with just one text?”
Emily’s voice message turned my stomach.
“Oh God-”
I was still throwing up when Theo burst through the door.
“Amelia? Is the morning sickness getting worse? Let me whip up something light for you!”
He moved fast. A few minutes later, he came back with this steaming bowl of beef barley soup.
He’d learned to make it from some Michelin star chef specifically for pregnant women.
He skipped three major merger meetings to perfect that one dish.
Theo’s eyes were filled with expectation, like he was waiting for me to melt and throw myself into his arms like I used to.
When he saw I remained unmoved, he froze for a moment.
Then he started massaging my temples like always.
“Theo,” I said quietly.
“Is there anything you’re lying to me about? If you tell me now…”
Theo, for the sake of you broking three ribs protecting me when I jumped out that window years ago.
I’m giving you one last chance.
“What are you talking about? You and our little one are everything to me.”
I watched his perfect performance, finding it fucking ridiculous.
Theo studied my face, then let out a soft laugh.
“I know what this is. You always say dramatic shit like this when you want me to sweet–talk you.”
Then he leaned in to kiss me.
Thunder cracked outside the window.
I flinched and pulled the blanket over my head.
I hadn’t cried over thunder in years.
Since I met Theo, I thought I’d found that safe and home feeling.
But now tears were streaming down my face.
Theo wrapped his arms around me. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m here,”
His embrace was still so warm, but I trembled with cold all over.
Just then, a housekeeper ran in and whispered something in his ear.
His face went white, but he tried to play it cool.
21:01
The True Heiress Strikes Back: You Chose My Stepsister–I Chose Your Rival to Father Your Heir
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Chapter 3
“Can’t you see she’s sleeping?”
He gave my back a few distracted pats. But his eyes kept darting toward the door.
“Get some sleep. I’ll stay right here.”
But the moment he was sure I had fallen asleep,‘ he left without looking back.
My phone screen kept lighting up in the dark.
Emily’s photos were getting more and more explicit.
Messy sheets, Theo’s naked back, and a fucking soaked rabbit tail plug…
The last voice message was breathless and smug.
“Sis… I bet Theo hasn’t touched you since you got pregnant, huh? But me? He just couldn’t hold back. Took me three times tonight.”
“I heard Theo hasn’t even picked a name for your baby yet? Our little one’s name is Nia~”
In the photo, Emily showed off a tattoo on her chest–exact same spot as Theo’s.
Boom! My ears started ringing.
So on our wedding night, as I touched the ‘Millie‘ tattoo over his heart and even moved to tears, what I saw in his eyes was the guilt, not affection.
Every time he said “Millie” with such affection, he was thinking about someone else.
For three fucking years, I was the punchline to the biggest fucking joke in New York.
I sat there all night until sunrise.
Finally texted back that number that had been waiting:
“I’m in. You can be the kid’s father on paper. Let’s make a deal.”
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