VOWS OF BETRAYAL

The rain poured mercilessly, each droplet hammering against the bedroom window like a relentless reminder of my misery. The sound was deafening, but not loud enough to drown out the turmoil inside me. I sat on the edge of our king-sized bed—no, his bed—and stared blankly at the phone in my hand.

For the past hour, I had been waiting for Dante Steele to call. My husband. The man I'd given three years of my life to. The man I had foolishly fallen in love with, despite knowing that his heart had always belonged to another.

My thumb hovered over the screen, tempted to call him first, but I knew better. He wouldn't answer. He never did when he was with her.

My chest ached at the thought of Maria Sinclair. His white moonlight. His first love. The woman who still owned his heart, even though I wore his ring.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips. Wasn't it ironic? In our three years of marriage, Dante had never once looked at me with the love he reserved for her. I was his contract wife, nothing more. The substitute.

I glanced around the bedroom—a space that should have been a sanctuary but felt more like a prison. The walls were painted a cold, lifeless gray, and the only personal touch in the room was a small photo of us from our wedding day. It sat on the nightstand, mocking me with its false promises.

The wedding had been a grand affair, attended by hundreds of people, but it had been devoid of love. The moment I walked down the aisle, I knew I was entering a union built on obligation, not affection.

Yet, I had clung to the hope that things might change. That I could make him see me. That I could make him love me.

But tonight, that hope was slipping away.

The sound of his car pulling into the driveway jolted me from my thoughts. My heart raced as I heard the front door open and slam shut. His heavy footsteps echoed through the halls, growing louder with each passing second.

I stood up, smoothing the creases from my dress. Tonight was supposed to be different. Tonight, I would tell him about the baby. Maybe this child could be the bridge that finally connected us.

He appeared in the doorway, tall and imposing, his dark eyes scanning the room before landing on me. His black suit was damp from the rain, and his hair was slightly disheveled, but he still looked every bit the powerful CEO.

"Dante," I began, my voice trembling slightly.

He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it onto the armchair without sparing me a second glance. "What is it, Elizabeth?"

I flinched at the sound of my name. He never called me Liz, the name my friends and family used—the name that felt like me. To him, I was Elizabeth, his contract wife, nothing more.

"I need to talk to you," I said, taking a hesitant step forward.

"Not now," he replied curtly. "I'm busy."

Busy. He was always busy. Too busy for me, but never too busy for Maria.

"But it's important," I pressed, my hands clenching at my sides.

His phone buzzed, and he pulled it out with a slight frown. I watched as his expression softened—a rare sight that sent a pang of jealousy through me. "Maria," he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips.

My heart sank. I knew that smile. It was the one he reserved for her.

"Are you leaving again?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He finally looked at me, his gaze cold and impatient. "Yes. I'll be gone for a week. Maria needs me."

Maria needs me.

The words were a knife to my chest, twisting deeper with every syllable.

I swallowed hard, my hand instinctively moving to my stomach. "I'm pregnant, Alexander."

The words hung in the air, heavy and fragile. For a brief moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something in his eyes—surprise, maybe even concern. But it was gone as quickly as it came.

"We'll talk about it when I get back," he said dismissively, slipping his phone into his pocket.

"You're leaving now?" I asked, my voice breaking.

"Yes," he said simply, grabbing his suitcase from the corner of the room.

"And what about me?" I demanded, my frustration boiling over. "What about our child? Do we mean nothing to you?"

He paused in the doorway, his hand resting on the frame. "Don't overthink this, Elizabeth. I'll be back in a week."

And then he was gone.

I stood there, frozen, as the sound of his car retreating into the night echoed in my ears. The weight of his indifference crushed me, and I sank to the floor, clutching my stomach as tears streamed down my face.

The rain continued to pound against the windows, drowning out the sobs that wracked my body.

At that moment, I realized the truth: I would never have his love.

---

The hours passed in a blur, the storm outside mirroring the turmoil within me. I couldn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Dante's cold, unfeeling face.

By the time the first rays of dawn broke through the rain-soaked sky, I had made a decision. I couldn't keep living like this. I couldn't keep giving my heart to a man who would never cherish it.

With trembling hands, I pulled out a sheet of paper and began to write.