I Chose Death When He Decided to Marry Again

After five years of playing the devoted husband, Erick brought his mistress home.

"Sabrina is pregnant. I need to protect her reputation," he said with practiced calm, as if rehearsed in front of a mirror.

Bianca's response was swift and unexpected. "Sure," she said, her tone as serene as the surface of a still pond.

Erick faltered, caught off guard by her lack of outrage. He had braced himself for tears, accusations, or even shattered glass. Instead, she stood there, unshaken and smiled faintly.

"I still love you," he blurted, rushing to fill the silence. "Once some time passes, I'll divorce her and marry you again."

Bianca's smile lingered, but she said nothing.

What Erick didn't realize—what he couldn't realize—was that the future he so confidently described would never come to pass. Soon, he would receive a call that shattered his world: his ex-wife and her unborn child were gone.

And by then, he wouldn't even have the right to decide how she'd be laid to rest.

——

"Sorry, Bianca, I have to work late again tonight."

At 10 p.m., Erick placed a glass of warm milk on the bedside table. He leaned down, brushing a hand softly over Bianca's hair, his touch almost tender.

"Drink this and go to bed early," he murmured. "Don't wait up for me."

At 10:05 p.m., the sound of water filling the bathtub echoed through the quiet house. Erick prepared the bath himself, adding drops of lavender and chamomile oil, the same blend that always lulled Bianca to sleep.

"Sweet dreams, Bianca," he said, his voice low, almost reluctant, as he pulled the door closed behind him.

At 10:10 p.m., he kissed her forehead, the faintest brush of his lips, before stepping out into the night.

If anyone had been watching, they would have thought Erick was the epitome of a loving husband—a man devoted to his wife in every gesture, every word. Bianca might have believed it, too, if it weren't for the hundreds of photos stored on her phone, each one a damning fragment of the life Erick lived beyond their home.

As the front door clicked shut, the tears Bianca had held at bay broke free, tracing silent paths down her cheeks. She stared after his retreating figure, her voice a broken whisper.

"I never doubted you," she murmured, the words more for herself than anyone else.

Her quiet sobs escalated, raw and desperate, as she grabbed her phone and hurled it across the room. It struck the floor with a sharp crack, but the impact did nothing to shatter the haunting images seared into her mind. Each photo—a kiss, an embrace, a laugh that wasn't hers—looped endlessly in her thoughts, vivid and cruel.

Three years. Erick had been unfaithful for three out of the five years they'd been married. She could hardly comprehend it. How could love—real love—wither in just two years?

Bianca sank to the floor, her arms wrapped around herself as memories of the past invaded her thoughts. She was nineteen when her world began to fall apart.

Her adoptive family, the Harpers, had finally found their long-lost biological daughter and Bianca, who had spent years as the eldest daughter, was suddenly rendered invisible. Soon, whispers began circulating: she didn't belong; she was merely a replacement.

When the day came that the Harpers nearly threw her out, it was Erick who intervened.

"I'm going to marry Bianca someday," he had declared with defiance. "If you kick her out now, don't even think about working with the West Group again!"

His words had shielded her, giving her a place to stay when she had nowhere else to go. In the days that followed, Erick confessed his feelings, his cheeks flushed as he poured out years of admiration.

"Bianca, I've always liked you," he said, his voice trembling. "But we're still young. Let's wait a few years and then we'll get married."

That moment had changed everything. His earnestness planted a seed of hope in Bianca's heart and over the years, it grew into love.

The path to their union hadn't been easy. The Harpers, reluctant to accept their adopted daughter as Erick's wife, threw obstacle after obstacle in their way. Erick had worked tirelessly to overcome them, vowing to silence every objection.

Bianca had watched him push himself, leaving early, coming home late, sacrificing sleep to take control of the West Group. He had seemed unstoppable, all for her. Or so she thought.

Now, Erick still left early and returned late, but Bianca knew it wasn't work that kept him away.

Her phone buzzed on the floor, dragging her back to the present. She wiped her swollen eyes and reached for it, ignoring the jagged crack across the screen. A new photo stared back at her—a private investigator's latest update.

Erick stood in the photo, locked in a passionate kiss with another woman.

Bianca's chest tightened as she recognized the woman. It was the Harpers' long-lost daughter. Her so-called sister.

Her body began to tremble, the image burning itself into her mind like a brand. Each pixel felt like a dagger, twisting deeper into the wounds she didn't know could hurt more.

Why? The question rang in her head, sharp and unrelenting. Why would the man who once claimed to love her—who promised her a forever—betray her like this?

She clutched her chest, gasping for air as sobs wracked her body. Her tears fell harder, faster, until they blurred into laughter—cold, bitter laughter that echoed through the empty house.

The vows they had exchanged, the life they had built, now felt like a cruel joke. Five years of marriage reduced to nothing but lies.

Outside the window, the night stretched dark and silent. Inside, Bianca's laughter faded into a chilling quiet. For the first time, she began to see her path forward. And it would no longer include Erick.

Chapter 2

Erick's so-called love had always been like a beautifully wrapped candy—deceptively sweet on the surface, yet destined to rot at its core. Bianca realized this too late. The truth had stripped away every ounce of sweetness, leaving only the bitter aftertaste of betrayal.

Her face, once alive with warmth and trust, had become eerily calm, like still water reflecting nothing but emptiness.

Sitting in the dim light of the bedroom, she stared at her phone for what felt like an eternity before dialing a number. The ringing echoed in the silence, her fingers trembling slightly as she pressed the device to her ear.

When the line connected, she spoke in a low, controlled voice. "Erick is cheating. Help me. I want to leave him."

The person on the other end didn't reply immediately. There was a long pause, punctuated only by the faint hum of static. Finally, the voice responded, steady and grim.

"With Erick's influence, leaving won't be easy. He'll make it impossible for you to escape." There was another pause, this time filled with hesitation. "Here's the plan—give me three months. I'll arrange everything. In three months, I'll deliver your 'corpse' to him so you can disappear."

Bianca tightened her grip on the phone, her nails digging into her palm. "No," she said firmly. "Before that, I'll find a way to divorce him first."

Her voice was steady, but her heart felt like it was being torn apart. Betrayal had already shattered her trust; she wouldn't let him destroy her dignity, too. Erick would have no claim over her—not even over her staged death.

After the call ended, Bianca sat motionless, her phone slipping from her fingers. Shadows from the window stretched across the floor as the night deepened. Hours passed and she didn't move, her mind racing with plans and regrets until dawn began to creep in.

The sound of the front door opening broke the silence. Erick's presence filled the room, accompanied by the cool scent of early morning air. His footsteps quickened when he saw her pale face.

"Bianca, you look awful! Are you feeling sick?" He knelt beside her, his hands cupping her face with the same practiced tenderness he always showed.

The faint scent of his post-shower cologne wafted toward her. She had once found comfort in its familiarity, believing it symbolized his thoughtfulness—his desire not to bring the grime of late-night work into their home. Now, she knew the truth. It wasn't about her at all. The cologne masked the lingering traces of other women.

Her stomach churned violently. The nausea was unbearable. Bianca shoved Erick aside and bolted to the bathroom, collapsing to her knees in front of the toilet.

The sound of her retching echoed through the small space. Erick's panicked voice followed her. "Bianca! Bianca, what's wrong?"

Moments later, he was on his phone, summoning an ambulance. "She's been pale all morning," he explained to the dispatcher, his voice thick with urgency. "She needs help now!"

At the hospital, the air was sterile, filled with the faint scent of antiseptic and the quiet murmurs of medical staff. Bianca sat in silence as the doctor reviewed her test results, her hands folded tightly in her lap. Erick hovered nearby, his brows furrowed with worry.

The doctor's expression softened. "Stantonratulations," he announced with a smile. "You're going to be parents!"

The words hung in the air like a thunderclap. Bianca froze, her mind reeling. She blinked and hot tears began streaming down her cheeks. This child... this innocent life had come at the worst possible time.

Erick, mistaking her tears for joy, clasped her hands in his. His face lit up, his usual composure replaced with raw emotion. "Bianca, we're having a baby! A baby!" His voice cracked with excitement as he spoke, his eyes glistening. "We're going to be a family, Bianca! Isn't this incredible?"

Bianca stared at him, her expression unreadable. She knew how much Erick had longed for a child. The news should have been a blessing, but all she felt was an overwhelming sense of despair.

'Erick,' she thought, her heart heavy. 'There's no future for us. No future for this child.'

The doctor's voice brought her back to reality. "The pregnancy is still in its early stages and your condition seems unstable. I recommend staying in the hospital for observation."

Erick immediately took charge, filling out the admission paperwork with an enthusiasm that bordered on childlike glee. He called everyone he could think of—family, friends, even distant acquaintances—proudly declaring the news.

"Bianca and I are having a baby!" he said, his deep voice brimming with pride. "Can you believe it? I'm going to be a dad!"

The nurses, overhearing his calls, giggled among themselves. One leaned over to Bianca, whispering with a grin, "Your husband really loves you. You're so lucky."

Another sighed wistfully. "Men like him are a rare find these days."

Bianca didn't respond. She simply stared at the scene unfolding before her, her gaze cold and detached. It was as if she were watching actors perform in a play—one that had become painfully absurd.

Eventually, Erick noticed her tears hadn't stopped. He crouched down beside her, his worry deepening. "Bianca, are you okay? Are you in pain?"

Through the haze of her emotions, Bianca looked at him—the man who had once promised her forever. Eight years together, five years

 of them married and all of it felt like a cruel joke now. She wanted to scream at him, to ask him why he had betrayed her. But she couldn't—not yet.

Suppressing the storm raging inside her, Bianca let her tears flow freely. "I've never had a child before," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I'm scared."

Erick sighed in relief, his smile returning. He gently squeezed her hand, his touch warm and reassuring. "Don't be afraid," he said softly. "I'm here. I'll be with you every step of the way, Bianca. I'll always be with you."

Chapter 3

'But I don't want you anymore, Erick.'

Bianca's thoughts swirled like a storm, though her face remained serene. She hadn't yet sorted through the tangled web of emotions engulfing her, nor did she have the strength to face Erick. Instead, she murmured that she wasn't feeling well and turned onto her side, closing her eyes as if to sleep.

Erick's initial excitement over the pregnancy had subsided and he quickly regained his usual composed demeanor. He pulled up a chair beside her hospital bed, the metal legs scraping softly against the floor. Sitting down, he reached out and gently patted her shoulder, his voice soft and tender.

"Rest, Bianca. I'll stay here with you."

For a moment, the room was silent save for the rhythmic beeping of the hospital monitor. Erick's presence seemed reassuring, almost as if he truly cared. Bianca wanted to believe the illusion, to pretend for just a moment longer that she still had a loving husband.

But the quiet was soon broken by the buzz of Erick's phone. He glanced at the screen, his jaw tightening slightly before he declined the call.

Bianca kept her eyes closed but felt the subtle shift in the air—Erick's hesitation, the way his body tensed as the phone buzzed again. This time, the call was followed by a string of notifications. Erick's hand moved quickly to open the messages, but Bianca could sense his agitation.

Her curiosity got the better of her and she peeked through her lashes, catching the faint glow of the screen. A photo of Sabrina in a lacy, revealing dress flashed across it. Bianca's chest tightened, anger simmering beneath her composed exterior.

Erick stared at the photo for a moment, his gaze darkening, before locking the phone and slipping it into his pocket.

"What's wrong?" Bianca asked suddenly, her voice startling him.

Erick flinched, his face flushing with guilt. But he quickly recovered, forcing a calm smile. "It's nothing. Just an emergency meeting at the office. My assistant is being persistent."

Bianca sat up slightly, her expression unreadable. "Then you should go. Work is important."

He hesitated, torn between guilt and desire. Finally, unable to resist, he stood. "Bianca, I'll have a nurse come check on you while I'm gone. I won't be long."

Bianca nodded but didn't say anything further. Erick took a step toward the door but stopped when she called his name.

"Erick," she said softly.

He turned, his brow furrowing. "What is it?"

She didn't reply immediately, her gaze piercing as it lingered on him. For a fleeting moment, Erick felt as though he were standing on the edge of a vast, unbridgeable chasm. The distance between them felt overwhelming, even though they were just feet apart.

A pang of unease struck his heart. He quickly closed the gap, bending to kiss her forehead. "Bianca, wait for me," he whispered.

Bianca stayed silent, watching as he walked out of the room.

The moment the door clicked shut, she rose from the bed, her movements slow but deliberate. She straightened her hospital gown and made her way to the doctor's office.

"Hello," she began, her voice steady. "I want to terminate my pregnancy, please."

The doctor froze, his pen hovering over the clipboard. Beside him, a nurse gasped audibly, her wide eyes reflecting her shock. They had both seen the joy on Erick's face earlier, heard him proudly announce the news to everyone who would listen.

"Are you sure?" the doctor asked carefully, lowering his pen. "Would you like more time to think about it?"

Bianca's lips curved into a faint, humorless smile. She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her gallery until she found the damning image—Erick locked in a passionate kiss with Sabrina. Turning the screen toward the doctor and nurse, she said simply, "My husband is cheating on me. I'll be divorcing him soon."

The young nurse stared at the photo, her mouth agape. The man she had admired for his devotion just moments ago was nothing more than a fraud. Her shock quickly turned into anger. "That shameless man,," she muttered under her breath, clenching her fists.

Without another word, the nurse guided Bianca to the operating room, her steps firm and resolute, as if she were taking justice into her own hands.

***

Elsewhere, in a dimly lit hotel suite, Erick sprawled across the bed, a satisfied smirk on his face. Beads of sweat glistened on his skin as he let out a contented sigh.

Sabrina stretched languidly beside him,"Erick, you're crushing me," she said with a playful pout, gently pushing him away.

Erick chuckled and rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow. He studied Sabrina for a moment, taking in her tousled hair and flushed cheeks. But his expression soon turned serious.

"Sabrina," he began, his voice low.

She glanced at him, her brows arching in curiosity. "What?"

He hesitated, then sighed. "Bianca's pregnant."

The words hung in the air, heavy and unspoken. Sabrina froze, her smile faltering. But it was only for a moment. Her lips soon curved into a sly grin.

"Oh? Then I'm going to have a little nephew!" she said, her tone light and teasing.

Erick didn't laugh.

The reason he came here for a date was to end his extramarital affair.

Not long ago, one of Erick's close friends had been exposed for cheating on his wife. The scandal spread like wildfire, tearing his family apart and ruining his reputation. Erick had watched as the man went from a respected businessman to a disgraced pariah in a matter of days.

The incident haunted Erick, serving as a stark reminder of the risks he faced. Bianca's tolerance had always been rooted in trust, but Erick knew that once her faith in him was broken, there would be no going back. She would never forgive him—not for something like this.

He had already ended things with his other mistresses, distancing himself. But Sabrina was different. Letting her go wasn't easy. She was the only one who had remained in his life, pulling him back into a world he swore to leave behind.

Now, with Bianca's pregnancy, Erick realized the stakes were higher than ever. He couldn't risk losing his family, his carefully curated image, or the empire he had built. No matter how reluctant he felt, he had to end things with Sabrina once and for all.

Chapter 4

Sabrina threw herself into Erick's arms, her sobs shaking her frame. Her hands clung desperately to his neck. Tears streamed down her face, dampening his chest as she pleaded with him.

"Erick, don't leave me," she whispered between sobs, her voice trembling with desperation. Her large, watery eyes locked onto his, shimmering with vulnerability. "I'll be careful. I promise your wife will never find out. I won't cause any trouble. I just want to stay quietly by your side."

She buried her face in his chest, her words muffled but insistent. "Please, Erick, don't leave me."

Her tear-streaked face, framed by disheveled locks of silky hair, tugged at Erick's resolve. His hands hovered uncertainly over her trembling shoulders before finally settling there, his touch hesitant. For a moment, guilt flickered across his face, but it was quickly overtaken by an inner battle between his desires and his obligations.

"Let's... talk about it later," he muttered, his voice unconvincing even to himself. He gently extricated himself from Sabrina's grip and straightened his shirt, avoiding her eyes.

Sabrina sniffled and nodded as though she had won, her lips curling into a faint smile of triumph as Erick turned away.

***

Not long after, Bianca's phone buzzed with an anonymous message while she rested in her hospital bed. She hesitated for a second before opening it, the dull ache in her chest tightening as the image loaded.

It was a photo of Erick in the shower, his back crisscrossed with fresh red scratches.

The bile rose in her throat, but Bianca swallowed it down, her face remaining a mask of icy composure. She locked the screen without a word, then turned to the doctor, her voice steady despite the turmoil roiling within her.

"Please arrange for a full checkup for me," she said quietly.

The doctor frowned, her pen pausing over the clipboard. "Are you feeling unwell?"

Bianca's lips twitched into a hollow smile. "No. I just need to make sure everything is... in order."

Erick, after all, had been with so many women. She needed to make sure she hadn't contracted anything.

***

The hospital's automatic doors hissed open and the crisp evening air hit Bianca's face as she stepped outside. Waiting just beyond the threshold was her closest friend, Elisa, her arms open wide in welcome.

"Bianca," Elisa called softly, her expression warm yet laced with concern.

The sight of her friend's comforting presence broke through Bianca's fragile composure. Tears welled up in her eyes and without a word, she walked straight into Elisa's embrace. Elisa wrapped her arms tightly around her, one hand stroking Bianca's hair as she whispered soothing words.

"Let it all out, Bianca," Elisa murmured. "Cry it all out. Then stand up again."

Bianca clung to her friend, her sobs wrenching and raw. The anguish she had bottled up poured out in waves, her cries echoing through the cool night.

"I wanted this baby," Bianca choked out between sobs, her voice breaking. "But Erick... he destroyed everything."

Elisa's grip tightened as her friend's words sank in. She didn't try to offer meaningless reassurances. She simply held Bianca, her quiet strength an anchor in the storm of emotion.

As Bianca's tears subsided, a fiery resolve began to take their place. The burning hatred in her chest turned her sorrow into steel.

By the time she pulled away, her tears had dried and her expression was calm—a chilling calm that sent shivers down Elisa's spine.

Hate stemmed from love. But as the child was gone, so too was Bianca's love for Erick. All that remained was her determination to disappear from his world.

***

Back home, Bianca methodically began packing her belongings. Each item she touched was imbued with memories she no longer wished to carry.

The jewelry Erick had gifted her, the designer clothes he'd picked out with such care—all of it went into boxes, ready to be sold at a fraction of their worth. Every item she packed away felt like shedding a layer of her past.

She paused when her hand brushed against a black and gold box tucked in the back of the closet. She hesitated before pulling it out.

Inside was ninety-nine love letters Erick had written during the early days of their courtship. She held one up, the faded ink and careful handwriting bringing back a flood of bittersweet memories.

"Bianca, these letters are proof of my love for you," Erick's voice echoed in her mind. "We'll be together forever. You can't leave me halfway through."

Her lips curled into a bitter smile. "And yet, you left first," she whispered to the empty room.

Carrying the box to the backyard, she set it on the edge of a pre-prepared bonfire. One by one, she fed the letters to the flames, watching the paper curl and blacken before crumbling into ash.

***

When Erick returned home, he immediately noticed the faint scent of smoke lingering in the air. Panic surged through him as he hurried into the yard, only to find Bianca standing silently by the fire, her expression unreadable.

"Bianca," he called out, relief washing over him at the sight of her. "Why did you leave the hospital without telling me?"

Bianca turned her gaze toward him, her eyes calm yet cold. "Weren't you busy?"

Erick froze, the accusation hidden in her tone striking a chord of unease.

He'd intended to return to the hospital sooner, but Sabrina clung to him, tearfully begging for a child. His resolve weakened and they had unprotected sex twice more.

By the time he arrived at the hospital, Bianca was gone. Worse, the once-welcoming staff now treated him with cold indifference, refusing to answer his questions about Bianca. He had no choice but to rush home.

"I'm sorry, Bianca," he said after a pause, his voice softening. "The meeting ran longer than expected. That's my fault."

She didn't reply. Her eyes drifted back to the fire.

It was only then that Erick noticed the burning remnants of paper curling in the flames. He stepped closer, his brow furrowing.

"What are you burning?" he asked cautiously.

Chapter 5

Bianca's voice was steady, her face emotionless as she stared at the burning flames.

"Just some trash that had to be burned."

Erick's brows furrowed, an inexplicable unease creeping into his chest. His eyes darted to the fire, trying to discern what exactly was fueling the flames. The flickering light cast shadows across Bianca's face, making her look distant and unreachable. He stepped closer, his instincts urging him to inspect further, but just then, Sabrina's voice rang out from behind.

"Erick!"

He froze mid-step and turned to see Sabrina entering the yard, her expression as radiant as ever.

"Why are you here?" Erick asked sharply, his tone betraying his uneasiness.

Sabrina blinked innocently and turned her gaze to Bianca. "I heard my sister is pregnant, so I came to check on her and congratulate her."

Erick's eyes flickered with a mix of guilt and annoyance. "I'll let you two talk then," he muttered, clearly eager to escape. "I'll go upstairs and change."

As Erick disappeared into the house, Sabrina moved toward Bianca, her almond-shaped eyes crinkling with a practiced smile.

"Sis, I'm so happy for you," she said cheerfully, clasping her hands together. "I can't wait to meet my little nephew."

Bianca met her gaze, her own expression calm but cold, like the surface of a frozen lake. The betrayal stung more sharply than any blade could. For years, Sabrina had been her closest confidante, the little sister she had doted on and trusted completely. And now, she stood here, shameless and smiling, after tearing Bianca's life apart.

"Are you really happy?" Bianca asked, her voice laced with a subtle edge.

Sabrina's smile didn't waver, though her eyes briefly flickered with unease. "Of course! Why wouldn't I be?"

Bianca forced a smile, suppressing the urge to lash out. The tension between them was palpable, like a coiled spring ready to snap.

"I'm happy too," Bianca said softly, the lie tasting bitter on her tongue.

The invisible weight pressing on the air seemed to dissipate slightly and the moment passed.

Not long after, Erick returned downstairs, now dressed in casual attire. His gaze darted between the two women, lingering on Bianca's pale face. Concern etched itself into his features.

"You should be resting," he said gently, stepping closer. "The hospital is better equipped to monitor you. Let me take you back."

Bianca shook her head. Her tone was polite but firm. "The doctor said it's fine as long as I rest at home."

She didn't wait for his response. "I'm tired," she added, excusing herself before turning and walking toward the bedroom.

Erick watched her retreating figure, a growing sense of frustration gnawing at him. He turned to Sabrina, hoping for answers, but she merely shrugged, her expression unreadable.

"Can I stay over tonight?" she asked suddenly, her voice sweet and persuasive.

Erick frowned. "Don't be ridiculous," he hissed under his breath, glancing toward the stairs.

But even as he rebuked her, there was no finality in his tone.

Later that night, the quiet of the house was broken by the soft click of the bedroom door unlocking. Erick stirred and sat up, his sharp instincts immediately alert. His first thought was of Bianca, lying beside him. He glanced over to confirm she was still asleep, her breathing steady.

In the dim light, he saw the intruder—Sabrina, her silhouette framed in the doorway.

"We agreed I'd come to you," Erick whispered harshly, his voice low enough not to disturb Bianca.

Sabrina stepped inside, her lips curling into a playful pout. "I missed you," she murmured, her bare feet padding softly across the floor.

Erick's jaw tightened. "Go back," he said, his tone more pleading than commanding.

Sabrina ignored him, her movements fluid and deliberate as she approached. She reached out, trailing her fingers down his arm. "Relax," she whispered. "I gave her enough sleeping pills in her milk. She won't wake up."

Erick's eyes flashed with disapproval. "Don't do that again," he warned, his voice sharper now. "She's pregnant. It's bad for the baby."

Sabrina pouted, her fingers tracing circles on his chest. "Got it," she said lightly. Then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, she leaned closer. "But you can't deny you enjoy doing it right next to her."

Erick looked away, unable to meet her gaze. The guilt was suffocating, yet the forbidden nature of their affair was undeniably intoxicating.

Under the covers, Bianca's fists clenched so tightly that her nails bit into her palms. Her body trembled with rage, but she forced herself to remain still, her breathing even. She had heard every word.

***

It wasn't until nearly two hours later that Erick and Sabrina finally left the room. Bianca waited until the door clicked shut before sitting up, her movements shaky. Her stomach churned violently and she barely made it to the bathroom before vomiting.

The betrayal she had witnessed left her raw, the emotional wounds bleeding fresh. She clung to the sink for support, staring at her reflection in the mirror. The woman looking back at her seemed like a stranger—her face pale and drawn, her eyes hollow.

A loud crash broke the silence as Bianca, in her daze, accidentally knocked over the metal rack by the bathroom door.

The noise jolted Erick awake. In a flash, he was at the bedroom door, pushing it open with force.

"Bianca?" His voice was thick with panic.

Bianca looked up from the floor where she had fallen, her face devoid of expression.

Erick's eyes darted between her and the fallen rack, but his concern quickly gave way to suspicion. His voice trembled slightly as he asked, "When did you wake up?"

Chapter 6

Bianca remained silent, her gaze unfocused as she lay on the cold bathroom floor. She could still feel the echoes of the depraved intimacy beside her just a few minutes ago. The disgust that had churned within her was now a heavy weight pressing against her chest.

She had wanted to open her eyes in that moment, to confront them, to expose their betrayal, but she knew it wouldn't change anything. Screaming, crying, or even confronting them would only make things worse. She wasn't weak, but she had to be strategic—she had to play her part until the time was right. If she was to leave this life behind, she needed to endure now. It was the only way she would get out without being destroyed in the process.

Erick stood by the door, his face pale, his voice trembling slightly when he spoke. "Bianca?" His voice cut through the stillness and for a split second, his concern seemed genuine. He hesitated as if waiting for a response, but Bianca kept her eyes closed, maintaining her silence.

She could hear his breathing grow more rapid, the tension mounting with each passing second. His anxiety was palpable, as though his own guilt was suffocating him. Bianca's heart hardened. She wanted to lash out, but she knew better.

Finally, when the silence had stretched to a length, Bianca spoke, her voice soft and measured. "I just woke up. Where were you?"

Erick's body seemed to release the tension it had been holding. He let out a breath that sounded almost like a relief, though there was a subtle shakiness to it. He quickly moved toward her, crouching down to offer his hand. "I went out for a glass of water." His eyes were full of concern now, but they didn't meet hers directly. He could barely mask the faintest hint of discomfort. "Bianca, are you okay?"

Bianca ignored his outstretched hand, her eyes fixed on the floor. Her stomach twisted and the nausea she had been holding back surged forward with alarming intensity. She barely had time to turn her head as she dry-heaved violently, trying to keep it contained.

Erick's face showed the kind of worry he reserved for someone he truly cared about. "Bianca, I'm worried about you. Are you sure about this pregnancy?" His voice softened, filled with a mix of concern and a subtle plea that didn't go unnoticed.

Bianca shook her head, but the pain in her chest intensified. She didn't need to hear his doubts. She had already made up her mind about the baby, about everything. Her silence was her shield now. She could feel his gaze on her, but she didn't look up. "I'm fine," she said flatly, her words an icy dismissal.

Bianca maneuvered herself back into bed. She could still feel the faintest traces of bile in the back of her throat, but she fought to keep them at bay. She had to endure if she intended to deliver the blow three months later, ensuring it would be a devastating strike—one that would seem like both mother and child perished.

Erick stayed by her side for a few moments longer, his presence heavy. But he said nothing more.

After a few moments of tense silence, Sabrina entered the room, her steps light but purposeful. She came in with the same fake sweetness that had been her hallmark during their earlier exchange. Bianca closed her eyes tighter, wishing for nothing more than to sink into the bed and disappear. She couldn't afford to engage with her, not now. She let Erick take over, leaving the room without saying a word.

***

The night stretched on in near silence. Erick returned later, his voice soft as he settled beside Bianca. "Sabrina wanted to stay and take care of you, but I sent her away." He lay down beside her, pulling her closer into his arms. "If you still feel unwell, let me know and I'll call the doctor."

Bianca's body tensed as his warmth surrounded her. She didn't respond to him. Her thoughts were elsewhere, racing, plotting her next move. His voice, soft and insincere, echoed in her mind, but she didn't trust him anymore. It was a long time before she fell into an uneasy sleep, the quiet of the house pressing down on her chest like a vice.

The next morning, Bianca's adoptive parents called, the news of her pregnancy spreading quickly. They were on their way back from a trip, eager to celebrate. Bianca felt a sudden pang of dread, but she masked it quickly.

The drive to the Harper Family home was long and silent, with Erick occasionally glancing at her, his face unreadable. Bianca's mind was elsewhere. The thought of facing her adoptive parents felt like stepping into an arena for a fight she was unprepared for.

When they arrived, the house was filled with the clatter of preparations, the smells of a meal being readied. Martha, her adoptive mother was already bustling around, putting the finishing touches on the meal with the help of the housekeeper. The familiar sights of the home did nothing to ease Bianca's discomfort. She felt like a stranger in her own skin.

As they sat down to eat, Martha smiled warmly, her attention shifting to the pregnancy. "Is it a boy or a girl?" she asked, her tone light and full of excitement.

"We haven't checked yet," Erick replied, his voice smooth, his expression gentle as he glanced toward Bianca. "Whether it's a boy or a girl, I'll love it no matter what."

His words, meant to sound affectionate, carried an undercurrent of something darker. Sabrina's eyes narrowed and she shot Erick a pointed glare. He met her gaze and gave a small, reassuring smile in return, one that Bianca noticed with increasing discomfort. The once pleasant exchanges now felt like cruel mockery. She could feel the betrayal in every word, in every glance.

Sabrina's smile only grew wider, her eyes dancing with mischief. It was sickening.

Bianca couldn't stomach it any longer. Excusing herself from the table, she feigned fatigue, stating she wasn't feeling well. Erick wanted to accompany her, but his phone rang, pulling him away.

She walked slowly to her room, but as she passed her parents' room, she heard hushed voices that made her freeze.

"No matter how you look at it, Bianca is just an adopted daughter. She can't compare to a biological one. It's best if Sabrina can take Erick away from her." Edward, her adoptive father, spoke coldly.

"Sabrina, you need to work harder and get pregnant with Erick's child as soon as possible," Martha replied, her voice dripping with the same calculated ambition.

The words pierced Bianca's heart like a dagger. The glass in her hand slipped from her fingers, shattering on the floor and she staggered, trying to keep herself upright.

So, her parents had known all along. They had all known about the affair. She had been the only fool, the only one in the dark. The weight of that realization nearly crushed her.

When the voices inside the room stopped, Bianca didn't need to look up. She knew they had seen her.

Martha stammered out her name in surprise, but Bianca's gaze was cold. She turned slowly, her eyes narrowing as they landed on Sabrina, who stood there with a smug, satisfied smile on her face.

Bianca couldn't hold it in any longer. With a sharp movement, she slapped Sabrina hard across the face. The force sent Sabrina stumbling back, her hand flying to her cheek in shock, but then she laughed, the sound cruel and mocking.

"Sis, haven't you always been good at enduring?" Sabrina taunted, her tone laced with venom.

Chapter 7

Bianca stood frozen in the living room, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst from her chest. Sabrina's words sliced through the air, each one sharper than the last.

"I've sent you pictures of your husband cheating and yet you pretend not to see them," Sabrina sneered, her voice dripping with malice. "Last night, you still managed to fake sleep. Why aren't you playing deaf and blind now, sis?"

Bianca's breath came in ragged bursts and her body trembled as though it couldn't contain the weight of the truth crashing down on her. She had known, of course, but hearing it from Sabrina's mouth, seeing the cruel delight in her sister's eyes, was a wound that cut deeper than anything Bianca had anticipated.

Her chest heaved violently, the pain of betrayal searing through her. Her eyes burned with unshed tears, but she refused to let them fall. Not now. Not when they were looking at her with such contempt. "Why?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sabrina's lips curled into a smile. "Of course," she said coldly. "Because I'm going to be Mrs. West. Why don't you just give it up, sis? You've been a pathetic Mrs. West anyway." Her words were a dagger aimed directly at Bianca's heart and with each syllable, the last vestiges of their sisterly bond were shattered. The facade of affection that had once existed between them crumbled into nothing, revealing the ugly greed and coldness that had been festering beneath the surface all along.

Bianca's legs began to tremble and she felt as if the ground beneath her was giving way. Her body swayed, but she steadied herself by gripping the edge of the table, the cool wood grounding her in that moment. Martha's voice sliced through her thoughts, filled with the same icy authority that had always been present in her presence.

"Bianca, think about it. You've had Erick's life for years. If you have any conscience at all, you'll end this pregnancy, divorce Erick and give him back where he belongs—with Sabrina."

The words were a poison, each one twisting in her gut, making it harder to breathe. Bianca's eyes blurred with tears as her chest constricted, unable to take in the magnitude of what was being asked of her.

Before Bianca could process anything further, the front door creaked open and Erick's voice rang out, heavy with confusion and concern. "What's going on?"

He froze in the doorway, his eyes wide as he took in the scene. Bianca stood before him, her face flushed with anger and humiliation, while Sabrina stood beside her, an expression of malicious triumph on her face.

Sabrina's gaze flickered quickly and before anyone could say a word, she burst into fake tears, her sobs loud and dramatic. "Erick, Bianca found out about us."

Hearing his name snapped Erick out of his stupor, but it was too late. His face went ashen, his breath catching in his throat. Panic seized him, his mind racing for a believable explanation. He looked at Bianca, his eyes pleading, but she saw only fear. He'd been caught. "Bianca..." he whispered, his voice desperate.

Bianca's heart was pounding in her chest, but her anger had risen to a boiling point. She no longer cared for explanations, no longer cared about saving face. With every ounce of strength she had left, she lifted her hand and slapped him hard across the face. The sound echoed through the room and for a brief moment, the world stood still.

"Erick, you've really outdone yourself," she said, her voice low and filled with contempt.

Martha let out a shrill scream, her face pale with shock. "Bianca, how could you slap Erick?"

But Erick, in his panic, barked at her, his eyes frantic. "Shut up!" he snapped, his voice rising. He turned back to Bianca, reaching out for her hand. "Bianca, listen to me, I can explain. Just please, let me explain!"

Bianca didn't even glance at him. Instead, her gaze stayed cold, unwavering. "Explain?" she sneered, her voice frosty. "Explain what? That you didn't cheat? That you didn't sleep with Sabrina?"

His mouth opened, but no words came out. The panic was overwhelming, drowning out any coherent thoughts. He could see the derision in her eyes, feel the weight of her disgust in the air. And in that moment, he knew that everything he had ever taken for granted was slipping away.

The silence that followed was thick and suffocating. Bianca's tear-filled eyes locked with his for a long moment before she turned away, not sparing him a second glance. Her footsteps were sharp and deliberate as she walked past him, leaving the room without another word.

The drive home was quiet. Bianca sat in the passenger seat, her hands tightly clasped together in her lap, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. The world seemed blurry through her tears, but she didn't wipe them away. She let them fall, each one a silent testament to the pain she could no longer suppress.

Once inside the house, the weight of the silence suffocated her. She turned to face Erick, who had followed her in. He stood in the doorway, his hands wringing nervously as he looked at her.

"Erick," Bianca said softly, her voice filled with a strange calmness that didn't match the chaos inside her. "We're getting a divorce."

The color drained from Erick's face immediately. His mouth opened and closed, as if he couldn't comprehend the words that had just left her lips. "No," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Bianca, I was wrong. You can hit me, scold me, whatever you want. Just don't leave me. I can't live without you. Please, don't leave me. I won't let you leave me, not even if I die."

His words were desperate, tinged with a possessiveness that made Bianca's skin crawl. His eyes were wide, frantic and in them, she saw the obsession he had always tried to hide. It was a suffocating, consuming fear that twisted his features into something unrecognizable.

A shiver ran through Bianca, her stomach churning. She remembered him locking her in the house after a fight, fearing she'd leave. She remembered the threats, the control, the ever-present fear beneath his charm. She couldn't let it happen again.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart. "Erick, I need some time alone," she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her.

But he wasn't ready to let go. In the next instant, Erick dropped to his knees, his face twisted in an expression of utter desperation. "Bianca, give me another chance, please. Please..."

Bianca didn't look at him as she turned and walked upstairs, her steps deliberate and firm. She could hear him pleading behind her, but it only felt distant, like the sound of someone shouting in a dream.

She closed the door to her room behind her and leaned against it, her chest tight with emotion. A strange sadness welled up inside her. If he was so afraid of losing her, why had he cheated?

The next day, as Bianca descended the stairs, she paused at the top. She glanced at Erick, still kneeling on the floor, his face a mask of despair.

Chapter 8

The house felt quiet, the air thick with tension. Bianca stood on the stairs, her body rigid as Erick's hoarse voice pierced the silence. "Bianca..."

She could feel the heat of his gaze on her, but it didn't matter. Her heart was already a stone in her chest, cold and unfeeling. Slowly, she turned to face him, her tear-filled eyes meeting his. She let the tears fall, just enough to make her seem vulnerable, to make her seem like she was still in love with him—like she still cared.

"Erick," Bianca began, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and sadness. "I truly hate you, but I also truly love you. I..." Her words trailed off, leaving just enough room for him to fill in the gaps, to believe for a moment that he might still be able to win her back.

A flicker of joy, too quick to hide, shot across Erick's face. His shoulders relaxed, the weight of his guilt momentarily lifting as he saw the glimmer of hope in Bianca's eyes. He took a step forward, his hands reaching for her and in one swift motion, he enveloped her in his arms.

"Bianca, I won't do it again," he said desperately, his voice cracking. "Forgive me this once and we'll live our lives properly from now on. I swear I'll change. We'll start over. I'll make things right."

Bianca's heart hardened at the words. Cheating wasn't something you just apologized for and moved past. It wasn't a mistake—it was a choice. Her mind screamed at her to push him away, to make him see the truth, but she simply stood there, allowing him to hold her, hiding the bitterness behind her eyes.

'Cheating is either something you do or you don't. Erick, do you even hear yourself?' Bianca thought to herself, her mind a whirlwind of disgust and resentment. She glanced briefly out the window, seeking refuge in the outside world, anything to escape the claustrophobia of this moment.

But just as she thought she might break free, the door slammed open and Sabrina appeared in the doorway, her face contorted with anguish. Sabrina's eyes locked onto Bianca with a mixture of guilt and defiance, but it was clear she had no intention of backing down.

Sabrina didn't waste any time with pleasantries. Dropping to her knees, she sobbed pitifully, her tears flowing freely as she begged for Erick's attention. "Please, sis," she cried, her voice breaking with false humility. "I love Erick. You can still be Mrs. West. I won't fight you for it. Just let me be with him. Please..."

Her plea hung in the air like a thick fog. Bianca's chest tightened and for a split second, she thought she might suffocate from the absurdity of it all. How was it possible that this woman, the one who had betrayed her most, could kneel before her and act as though she were the victim?

Tears streamed down Sabrina's face and her voice cracked with desperation. Despite the tears, a cold smirk tugged at the corners of Bianca's lips. She stood tall, her posture unwavering, as she watched Sabrina's pathetic performance. It was almost comical, how Sabrina thought she could beg for forgiveness when everything had already been laid bare.

Bianca's voice, when it came, was laced with disdain. "You're okay with being a secret mistress for the rest of your life?" she asked, her words cold and sharp, cutting through Sabrina's pretense.

Sabrina's expression faltered for a fraction of a second before she quickly forced a smile. "You will always be Mrs. West, sis," she replied, her tone strained but trying to sound convincing.

Bianca didn't flinch. She looked at Sabrina as though she were a stranger. But then her gaze shifted to Erick and she asked, "What about you? Do you love Sabrina?"

The question hung in the air like a storm cloud waiting to break. Erick's eyes darted between the two women, panic flashing across his face. He loved Bianca—that much was true—but he had also fallen for Sabrina. In the midst of his confusion, his hesitation spoke volumes.

"I love you the most," he finally said, his voice a weak attempt at reassuring her. But the words were hollow and even he could hear the uncertainty in them. His heart was divided and the shame of it clung to him like a shadow.

Bianca's lips curled into a bitter smile, her eyes narrowing. She could see through his feigned sincerity and it only made her loathe him more. His evasiveness was all she needed to hear.

With a final glance at both of them, she turned on her heel and left the room. Her silence, however, was misconstrued by Erick and Sabrina as a sign of concession. Erick's face softened, a relieved smile tugging at his lips as he basked in the belief that he had narrowly escaped disaster.

He thought to himself how lucky he was compared to his friends. He had a wife who loved him so much, a wife who, even after discovering his betrayal, couldn't bring herself to leave him. It was a twisted sense of triumph, one born from his conviction that Bianca's love would always be his safety net.

Bianca, however, understood the grim reality all too well. Forgiveness, she knew, wouldn't bring about any kind of remorse. It would only breed more hurt, more humiliation and more betrayal.

After their secret had been exposed, Erick's feelings for Sabrina became painfully clear. No longer did he hide behind the excuse of work. He openly spent time with her, often calling Bianca from her place. "Bianca, be good. Don't wait up for me tonight," he'd say casually. Eventually, the calls stopped altogether.

Erick's actions became more brazen and he began to push Bianca's boundaries further, testing her resolve time and time again. She knew that if she gave in now, it would make things even worse. She couldn't seem weak in his eyes, so she made a show of resistance, of anger. But deep down, every argument, every fight, only fed into Erick's belief that he could do whatever he wanted without consequence.

One weekend, when Erick didn't come home yet again, he made yet another excuse. "Bianca, Sabrina has a cold and no one's there to take care of her. I'll stay with her tonight."

Bianca's response was nothing but silence, a silence that spoke volumes. After hanging up, she didn't waste a second. Without another word, she began to quietly gather all the funds she had managed to save over the years. She had made up her mind. The day she would leave was fast approaching.

***

As the hours stretched into the quiet of the night, Bianca was left alone with her thoughts. The phone rang suddenly, its sharp tone slicing through the silence. Bianca glanced at the screen and saw Elisa's name.

"Bianca," Elisa's voice was urgent, but Bianca could hear the concern beneath it. "I have two things to tell you."

Bianca's heart skipped a beat. "What is it?"

"It turns out Sabrina's not simply interested in Erick," Elisa explained. "She's here for revenge against the Wests. I haven't found out what they did to her, though."

Bianca's blood ran cold. She had known Sabrina was dangerous, but this? This was something else entirely.

"Should I tell Erick about this?" Elisa asked, her voice cautious.

In the past, Bianca would have immediately answered with an emphatic "Yes." She would have wanted to protect Erick from Sabrina. But now, she shook her head.

"No need," Bianca said, her voice steady. "Erick has chosen Sabrina himself and he should bear the consequences."

There was a pause on the other end of the line and then Elisa let out a relieved sigh. "Not telling him is the right move. Losing you for a scheming woman? He'd deserve it."

Chapter 9

Bianca let out a bitter laugh, her voice hollow and trembling.

"And the other thing..." Elisa's tone softened, laced with hesitance. "We've been searching for your real parents all this time. There's still no clear lead, but I did uncover something else—your adoptive father... he kidnapped you as a baby years ago."

"What?" Bianca shot to her feet, the chair screeching sharply against the floor as it toppled behind her.

The words echoed in her mind, her knees threatening to buckle. Disbelief and betrayal washed over her, destroying the last vestiges of familial warmth she'd clung to for years. Now, every cold glance and dismissive word from Edward carried a darker meaning.

Tears spilled freely down her cheeks, blurring her vision as the reality of her existence unraveled before her. She instinctively looked around, longing for solace, her thoughts drifting to Erick. But just as quickly, her steps faltered.

She remembered.

The man who had once been her sanctuary was now someone else's warmth. He was holding Sabrina, leaving Bianca alone with nothing but the hollow shell of a house and memories that felt like knives.

***

The next morning, the soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting the room in a pale glow. Bianca hadn't slept; the night had stretched endlessly, her mind churning with thoughts of her stolen identity and crumbling marriage.

The sound of the front door opening broke her reverie. Erick stepped in, his tall figure framed by the misty morning outside. He froze for a moment, seeing her seated there. Bianca lifted her head, her gaze meeting his.

Something in her eyes was different—empty, hollow, as though the person he had once known no longer existed. The warmth, the pain, the lingering love—all of it was gone, replaced by an impenetrable void. Erick felt an icy chill creep up his spine, a sudden unease taking root in his chest.

"Bianca," he said hoarsely, his voice unsure, his usual confidence faltering.

Bianca stirred, her expression unreadable. Her lips parted, and in a voice so quiet it was almost a whisper, she asked, "Erick, did you do this because you know I love you?"

The question hit him like a blow. Guilt surged through him, twisting his insides. He crouched down beside her, gently reaching out to cup her cold cheek. "I'm sorry, Bianca," he said, his voice low and trembling. "I'll make it up to you. I'll spend more time with you from now on."

As if to prove his sincerity, he picked up a bag he had brought in and pulled out a dress. The fabric shimmered faintly in the morning light, a masterpiece of the family tailor's craftsmanship. "Look at this," Erick said, attempting a smile. "Do you like it? I had it made especially for you."

Bianca didn't take it. Her gaze lingered on the dress for a moment, then shifted back to Erick. Her lips curled into a faint, mocking smile. Since when did he think she was someone who could be bought with fabric and feigned remorse?

Before she could speak, a voice rang out from the doorway, its tone saccharine and grating.

"Wow, what a beautiful dress!"

Both turned to see Sabrina strolling toward them, her smile as bright as it was false. She paused beside Erick, her eyes flicking briefly toward Bianca with a gleam of triumph.

Without hesitation, Sabrina reached out, snatching the dress from Erick's hands. "Erick, I want this!" she whined, clutching it to her chest like a prized trophy.

Erick frowned, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Don't be ridiculous. This is for Bianca."

"But I need it," Sabrina pouted, leaning against him with exaggerated petulance. "There's an event tonight. Can't she let me borrow it just this once?"

Bianca watched the scene unfold with quiet detachment, her arms folded. Erick, visibly uncomfortable, glanced at her, as if seeking permission. She didn't say a word, her silence as cutting as any refusal. For once, Erick hesitated, finally shaking his head. "No. This dress was made for Bianca."

Sabrina's expression darkened. She threw the dress back at him with a huff and stormed out, her heels clicking angrily against the polished floor. Erick stood frozen for a moment, torn between appeasing Bianca and chasing after Sabrina. After a beat of hesitation, he chose the latter, following Sabrina out the door.

***

Later that afternoon, Sabrina posted a nine-photo collage on her social media with the caption: [Someone ordered ten custom dresses for me to apologize, so I decided to forgive them!]

Not long after, Bianca's phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, her face remaining impassive as she read the message from her sister: [Sis, your husband's heart is with me. Why are you still holding on to the title of Mrs. West?]

Bianca's fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment before she typed back a simple response:

[You can have it.]

The reply was devoid of anger, pain, or even sarcasm. It was the truth. Bianca no longer wanted the man who had betrayed her, nor did she care for the title that had brought her nothing but misery.

Sabrina, on the other hand, stared at the message, momentarily stunned. The lack of a fight perplexed her. In her mind, Bianca's words were merely an act of impotent rage. Scoffing, she picked up her phone and dialed her manager.

"Leak the news," she ordered. "Let them know I'm pregnant."

As a minor celebrity, Sabrina was no stranger to attention. Within hours, the announcement went viral. Sabrina's unwed pregnancy became a trending topic, dominating social media.

The internet, as always, was merciless toward women. Within hours, Sabrina's social media accounts were flooded with hateful comments. People called her shameless and accused her of using her personal life to chase popularity. Memes mocking her spread like wildfire. Gossip accounts dug up her past relationships, sensationalizing every trivial encounter into scandalous rumors.

Chapter 10

Sabrina became a public outcast. News outlets endlessly rehashed the scandal. Bianca barely noticed. She felt no pity for Sabrina, no satisfaction from the backlash. Her own world had already frozen over.

That evening, Erick returned home. His footsteps were unusually hesitant, almost reluctant, as he walked into the living room where Bianca sat in silence. His eyes darted around before he finally crouched in front of her, resting one hand on her arm.

"Bianca," he began softly, his tone thick with unease. "Sabrina is pregnant."

Bianca didn't respond. She didn't even blink. Erick seemed to take her silence as permission to continue.

"People are saying Sabrina's child has no father," he said, rubbing his palms together anxiously. "The online harassment is relentless. Now everyone's calling her shameless."

Bianca finally opened her eyes, fixing him with a hollow, unwavering stare. "So?" Her voice was devoid of emotion.

Erick swallowed hard, his gaze falling to the floor. "If no one comes forward," he muttered, "Sabrina's life will be destroyed. There's only one way to salvage this."

Bianca's body stiffened. Somewhere deep in her gut, she already knew what was coming, but hearing it aloud felt like a crushing blow. Erick's next words were barely above a whisper.

"Bianca, could we... get a divorce? Just for a while, I mean. It would give Sabrina's baby a father, at least on paper. It's the only way to stop the rumors."

The room seemed to shrink, suffocating her. Bianca's chest heaved as she tried to process his request. She had prepared herself for many things, but the audacity of this suggestion left her momentarily speechless.

"Erick," she said at last, her voice trembling with disbelief, "how could you do this to me?"

Her mind flashed with memories of the man Erick had once been—the one who used to surprise her with flowers after long work trips, who held her hand through every storm, who promised her a lifetime of unwavering love. How had that man become this stranger standing before her, offering divorce as though it were a simple formality?

Seeing the anguish in her eyes, Erick reached out, gripping her hand tightly. His own eyes were wide with desperation. "Bianca, listen to me," he pleaded. "This is just temporary. Once the public forgets, I'll divorce Sabrina and remarry you. I swear."

Bianca stared at him, her heart twisting with rage and disbelief. "What if I refuse?" she asked coldly.

Before Erick could answer, Sabrina's voice suddenly broke through the tension. She appeared at the doorway, her face pale but determined. Without hesitation, she dropped to her knees, clasping her hands in a pitiful display.

"Sis, I'm begging you, please help me," Sabrina sobbed, tears streaking her face. "I can't face this alone."

Bianca didn't even flinch. Her eyes remained on Erick, silently daring him to justify this betrayal. Erick hesitated, his lips trembling as though he wanted to say more but couldn't find the words. Finally, he spoke, his voice low.

"Bianca, Sabrina suffered so much before finding her family again..." His words trailed off, heavy with implied guilt.

Bianca let out a bitter laugh, cutting through the tense atmosphere like a knife. "So, you think I'm the one who stole her place as the Harper Family's daughter?" she said, her voice laced with venom.

Erick froze. He didn't deny it and that was all the confirmation Bianca needed. Her laugh turned hollow, mocking herself for ever believing in him. For ever thinking she owed Sabrina anything.

She thought of the truth Elisa had uncovered—that she wasn't the Harpers' daughter by choice, but by force. That her so-called family had stolen her from her real parents and raised her under a cloud of deceit. Her lips quirked into a bitter smile as she stared at Erick.

'If you knew the truth, Erick,' she thought, 'would you still defend her? Or would you finally see what I've had to endure?'

"Bianca..." Erick's voice broke into her thoughts. He reached for her, but she raised her hand, stopping him.

"I agree," she said curtly.

The divorce papers were signed and finalized within days. Outside the courthouse, Bianca stood frozen, clutching the certificate tightly in her hands. The reality of her severed marriage felt both liberating and crushing. She was free of Erick's betrayal, but she was also untethered, standing alone at the edge of an uncertain future.

"Bianca." Erick's voice called her back. She turned to see him reaching for her hand, his expression conflicted. But before he could say more, Sabrina's voice rang out from behind him.

"Erick, hurry up! We need to take our wedding photos!"

Bianca's lips curled into a faint smirk. Erick hesitated for a moment longer before letting go of her hand and walking toward Sabrina. The other woman shot Bianca a triumphant smile, her eyes gleaming with victory.

Chapter 11

At that moment, Bianca's phone buzzed. She picked it up, her voice steady.

"Bianca, everything is ready. You can leave anytime," Elisa's voice said on the other end.

"Alright," Bianca replied simply.

Her gaze drifted to Erick and Sabrina, who were walking away together, their figures blending into the distance. Slowly, Bianca slipped the wedding ring off her finger. The metal felt cold against her skin as she twirled it one last time between her fingers before tossing it into the nearby sewer. The faint clink of the ring disappearing into darkness felt final. From this moment on, Erick West was nothing more than a stranger.

***

Meanwhile, Sabrina wasted no time. Once she and Erick had their marriage certificate in hand, she snapped a photo and posted it on social media with a caption flaunting their union.

The internet, which had been buzzing with rumors of Sabrina's scandal, immediately shifted its narrative. Sabrina was no longer "shameless"; she was now Mrs. West, officially married to a prominent figure.

The Harper Group's official account tagged several gossip accounts that had spread defamatory posts, issuing warnings of impending legal action. Within hours, those accounts either deleted their content or disappeared altogether.

Watching the situation unfold, Sabrina was elated. She had endured years as Erick's mistress, waiting for this day. Now, her perseverance had finally paid off.

She turned to Erick, who sat beside her, distracted. "Erick," she said, her tone sugary, "everyone online is asking when we'll hold the wedding. What do you think?"

Erick's jaw tightened and his gaze hardened as he set down his phone. His tone was sharp. "Sabrina, we got the certificate to resolve your situation, not because I wanted to marry you. Let's not forget that."

Sabrina's smile faltered. Tears welled up in her eyes as she bit her lip. "But my sister has so much more time to be with you," she murmured, her voice quivering. "The time I have to openly be with you is so short. Wanting a wedding is just my way of having fewer regrets. Am I asking for too much?"

Her appearance was carefully crafted—wide, innocent eyes and a vulnerable demeanor that made her seem almost childlike. It was a look that always softened Erick's resolve.

He sighed, his irritation melting into pity. He reached out, wiping a tear from her cheek. "Alright," he relented, "I wasn't considering your feelings. I'm sorry."

In the end, Erick agreed to a small, private wedding ceremony with only a handful of close relatives and friends in attendance.

***

The next day, Erick's phone buzzed with a call from Peter, his longtime friend.

"I saw the invitation," Peter said flatly. "What the hell is going on, Erick? When did you switch wives?"

"It's not what it looks like," Erick replied with a chuckle, though there was a slight edge of defensiveness in his tone.

Peter's skepticism was palpable through the line. "Aren't you worried Bianca might leave you for good?"

Erick scoffed. "Bianca won't leave me. She loves me too much. She always forgives me in the end."

"Don't be so sure," Peter warned. "I thought the same thing once. Now I've lost my wife and kids. Don't make the same mistake."

"That won't happen," Erick said confidently. "This wedding with Sabrina is temporary. In a few months, I'll divorce her and remarry Bianca. I'll even throw her a grander wedding than our first."

Meanwhile, Bianca sat by the window, the divorce certificate lying on the table in front of her. Her phone buzzed with a message from Elisa.

"Erick will hold the wedding ceremony with Sabrina tomorrow at West Manor. When are you planning to leave?"

Bianca's lips curled into a faint smile. "Tomorrow."

"Good," Elisa replied. "I'll arrange a car accident for you. Right on the road their wedding car will pass. It'll be a wedding the Harper Family won't forget."

Bianca's fingers hovered over her phone for a moment before she replied with a single word, "Agreed."

After the call ended, Bianca stood and walked to the wall where her wedding photos with Erick hung. Slowly, she began taking them down one by one. Each photo told a story of a time when she thought love was enough to sustain a marriage. Now, they were nothing more than reminders of betrayal.

One by one, the photos went into the fireplace. The flames crackled, consuming the glossy paper and leaving behind curling ashes.

When Erick returned home that evening, the smell of burning paper hit him immediately. He rushed into the living room, stopping in his tracks when he saw Bianca standing by the fireplace, watching their wedding photos burn.

"Bianca!" he shouted, his voice a mix of panic and anger. "What are you doing? Why are you burning our wedding photos?"

The firelight flickered against Bianca's calm, unreadable face. She turned to him, her expression serene but cold.

"You've married Sabrina," she said simply. "If anyone sees these, it might raise questions."

Chapter 12

Bianca's explanation seemed reasonable, but it did little to quell the unease gnawing at Erick. His eyes darted between the smoldering fire and Bianca's calm expression, searching for a hint of regret that wasn't there.

"You could've just stored the photos away," he murmured, his tone quieter now, almost pleading. "We'll hang them back up when we remarry."

Bianca's lips curved into a faint, humorless smile. "By then, we can take new ones."

Erick felt his chest tighten. Watching the flames consume the photos—snapshots of their once-perfect life together—stirred an inexplicable discomfort within him. The memories seemed to crumble and curl like the burning paper. He knew he had wronged Bianca, hurt her deeply.

Yet, a part of him believed they could mend things. "Bianca, I—"

"You should go," Bianca interrupted, her voice steady but unyielding.

"I want to stay tonight," Erick said, stepping closer. He wanted to reach out, to touch her hand and bridge the widening chasm between them. "We need to talk—about us, about everything."

Bianca met his gaze, her own unwavering. "Erick, we're divorced," she stated firmly. "If you linger here, people will think I'm the homewrecker."

Her words cut deep, like a blade slicing through the fragile hope Erick clung to.

"Bianca, you'll never be a mistress to me," he said, desperation creeping into his voice.

But Bianca's expression didn't soften. Instead, her gaze turned distant, as if she were looking at someone she no longer recognized. Slowly, she enunciated each word with chilling clarity. "Erick, I will never be someone's mistress."

Her conviction silenced him. Erick opened his mouth, searching for the right words, but none came. He stood there, helpless, watching her unyielding resolve.

Finally, he said, "I'll come back for you, Bianca. I'll marry you again. I promise."

Bianca didn't respond. Her gaze drifted past him, out the window, as if the conversation no longer concerned her.

Her voice, soft and faint, escaped her lips as Erick turned to leave. "That day will never come."

The words were swallowed by the empty room, unheard.

After the door closed behind him, Bianca remained still for a long moment, staring at the flickering flames. Then, she reached for her phone. Her voice was calm as she spoke to the operator.

"Hello, I'd like to purchase all the advertising spaces across the city for tomorrow."

***

The next morning, Erick arrived at Harper Manor to pick up Sabrina. She greeted him with a bright smile, her hand slipping into his as they walked toward the waiting wedding car.

Their vehicle took a scenic route through the city, circling prominent landmarks. Sabrina leaned close, snapping selfies with Erick, her phone camera capturing moments she quickly uploaded to social media. Each post was carefully curated to show their happiness, tagging Bianca to ensure she saw every image.

Meanwhile, Bianca drove alone, her face unreadable as she maneuvered through the city streets. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles white. One kilometer away from the wedding venue, the screech of tires filled the air, followed by the deafening crunch of metal.

Bianca's car crashed into a stopping truck. The scene was catastrophic, twisted wreckage strewn across the road. Passersby stopped in horror, murmuring prayers for those involved.

Minutes later, Erick's wedding car approached the scene. He craned his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the aftermath, but Sabrina tugged at his arm.

"We'll be late," she said, her voice laced with feigned concern. "Do you really have to see it? Today's supposed to be our happy day."

Erick frowned, conflicted. His instincts told him to stop, to check if he could help, but Sabrina's grip on his arm tightened.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he muttered, "Forget it. Let's go."

The car rolled past the accident, the scene disappearing in the rearview mirror as they continued toward West Manor.

***

At the wedding venue, Sabrina's excitement was palpable. She clung to Erick's arm as he carried her out of the car, grinning ear to ear as celebratory cannon fire erupted in the background.

Her parents greeted them with open arms, their faces glowing with pride.

Erick's parents, who had never approved of Bianca due to her ambiguous background, were visibly pleased. Sabrina, at least, came from a respectable family.

The guests exchanged polite smiles and congratulations, but Erick couldn't shake a lingering sense of unease. Something felt wrong, like an invisible thread pulling him toward an unraveling.

The image of Bianca burning their wedding photos replayed in his mind, gnawing at his thoughts. He pulled out his phone and dialed her number.

"The number you are calling is currently unavailable."

The mechanical voice sent a shiver down his spine. He tried again, only to hear the same cold response.

Sabrina noticed his distraction and gently placed her hand on his arm. "Darling, the ceremony is about to start," she reminded him with a sweet smile.

Erick hesitated. "Just a moment," he said, dialing the housekeeper instead.

After a few rings, the housekeeper picked up. "Mr. West, Mrs.—I mean, Miss Bianca left this morning. She said she had a prenatal check-up at the hospital."

Relief flooded through Erick and he exhaled deeply. Guilt pricked his conscience. Bianca was pregnant, yet he hadn't been there for her.

Determined, he resolved to end things with Sabrina soon and return to Bianca's side. He looked at Sabrina and said firmly, "Don't call me darling. Not now, not ever."

Chapter 13

Sabrina's smile faltered for only a moment before she regained her composure, masking her irritation with a sweet expression. "Okay, Erick," she said softly, her voice dripping with compliance. She looped her arm through his, turning her face toward the guests with an air of contentment.

The wedding unfolded with the precision of a staged performance. Held in a grand, open courtyard, the Western-style ceremony was adorned with pristine white roses and twinkling fairy lights. The atmosphere was one of elegance and opulence, every detail meticulously curated by Sabrina. Yet Erick stood like a shadow, his expressions distant, betraying the turmoil beneath his stoic demeanor.

As the priest recited the vows, Sabrina's gaze lingered on Erick's face, silently willing him to meet her eyes. But his attention wandered, as if his thoughts were miles away.

The ceremony reached the ring exchange, a symbolic moment of unity. Erick mechanically reached for the velvet box handed to him, his movements stiff and robotic. Just as the priest prompted Sabrina to extend her hand, a sharp disruption shattered the proceedings.

The heavy doors of the venue swung open and the guests turned in unison as several men in suits entered with brisk, purposeful strides. Gasps rippled through the crowd.

"Mr. West, Mrs. West," the man leading the group announced, his voice calm but authoritative.

Sabrina's hand froze mid-air, her forced smile faltering as unease flickered in her eyes. Erick's brows knitted tightly, his jaw tensing. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice edged with irritation.

Ignoring the question, the man continued, "Ms. Bianca asked me to deliver two messages to you."

The mention of Bianca's name sent a jolt through Erick. His chest tightened and a dark shadow crossed his face.

The man raised his voice, ensuring his words echoed through the stunned silence. "Ms. Bianca says she wishes the two of you a happy marriage and a lifetime of joy. And..." He paused briefly, his gaze sweeping over the assembled guests before delivering the final blow. "She hopes to never see either of you again!"

Gasps erupted from the crowd, their murmurs swelling into a cacophony of whispers. Sabrina's face turned ashen, her carefully constructed image crumbling under the weight of the public spectacle.

Almost simultaneously, the massive digital screens across the city began broadcasting the same two sentences in an unrelenting loop. Onlookers froze, their eyes widening as they processed the shocking display.

The first message—Bianca's "blessing"—elicited scattered cheers, particularly from Sabrina's fans. But the second message struck like a thunderclap, silencing the crowd and igniting a storm of speculation on social media. The undercurrent of drama was too enticing to ignore and netizens eagerly dissected every possible implication.

Erick, however, heard none of it. His face drained of all color, his mind racing. Without hesitation, he abandoned Sabrina and bolted from the altar, his chair scraping loudly against the marble floor.

"Find Bianca! Quickly!" he barked at his subordinates as he ran outside, ignoring Sabrina's frantic pleas for him to stay.

"Erick! Where are you going? Come back!" she screamed, her voice breaking, but he didn't even glance back.

Jumping into his car, Erick floored the accelerator, weaving recklessly through traffic as he called Bianca repeatedly. Each attempt ended with the same cold, unyielding response: "The number you are calling is currently unavailable."

His first stop was the hospital. Erick stormed inside, his eyes scanning for any sign of Bianca. The sterile smell of antiseptic burned his nostrils as he approached the reception desk.

"Bianca Harper. Where is she?" he demanded.

The nurse shook her head apologetically. "I'm sorry, sir. There's no record of her being admitted here today."

Frustrated, Erick turned to leave but paused as an ambulance screeched into the emergency bay. Paramedics unloaded a blood-soaked stretcher, the figure on it obscured by a white sheet.

"That's horrible," a bystander murmured.

"She doesn't look like she'll make it," another whispered.

Erick's gut twisted, but he forced himself to ignore the scene. Bianca wouldn't be on that stretcher. She couldn't be.

He jumped back into his car and sped toward their home, gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. His mind raced with questions. Why hadn't she answered his calls? Why hadn't she returned home?

When Erick arrived, he burst into the house, heading straight for the study. Frantically, he rummaged through the drawers, eventually finding all of Bianca's passports and identification documents untouched. A wave of relief washed over him.

'She hasn't left the country,' he thought, clinging to hope. 'She must still be in the city, just hiding because she's angry.'

As he began pacing the room, planning his next move, muffled voices floated up from the living room. Moments later, the housekeeper appeared at the door, accompanied by two police officers.

"Mr. West," one of them began, his tone grave. "Are you Erick West, Bianca Harper's husband?"

Erick froze, dread pooling in his stomach. "Yes, I am," he said cautiously. "What's this about?"

The officer's expression softened, tinged with sympathy. "I'm sorry to inform you that your wife was involved in a car accident on Midway Avenue earlier today. She passed away about an hour ago."

For a moment, the world around Erick ceased to exist. His phone slipped from his hand, clattering loudly onto the floor.