Chapter 10

If the alarm hadn't blared that morning, Evelyn would have slept through the day.

Her cheeks burned remembering her drunken behavior with Alexander last night.

Back at her design studio, Evelyn's fingers moved mechanically across her sketchpad. His shadow haunted her every thought.

Twelve years of love doesn't vanish overnight.

Her hand drifted to her flat stomach. This child deserved a loving family.

Ding!

The phone notification snapped her back to reality.

Alexander's name flashed on the screen. Her pulse quickened.

The attached photo showed two girls - one radiant in designer silk, the other drowning in drab cotton.

Victoria Lancaster shone like royalty. Evelyn Sinclair faded into the background.

The accompanying message turned her fingers to ice:

Look at Victoria, then yourself. How could gutter trash like you ever be my wife?

Each word stabbed deeper than the last.

She remembered that golden summer twelve years ago. The boy who'd called her his angel now saw only dirt.

Alexander, you promised I'd be your bride. What happened to that boy?

Her fingers flew across the screen:

I know you hate me, but I'm carrying your child. Give us this chance.

The seconds stretched endlessly.

His reply came swift as a guillotine:

Get rid of it.

Before she could breathe, another message:

Only Victoria bears my heirs. Sign the papers or I'll end that bastard myself.

Her blood crystallized in her veins.

Across town, Victoria deleted the entire conversation, palms slick with sweat.

Two years ago, she'd found Evelyn's diary and a signed bookmark from Alexander dated a decade past.

The automatic doors hissed open. Victoria slid Alexander's phone back into place just as his shadow fell across the desk.