Chapter 3

I made apricot punch.

This was my own home.

Yet I could only sit in the guest room and wait for Damian.

I let my eyes drift over the dust that had already settled across the room.

If I didn't fight back, this endless, hopeless life

would be the rest of my life.

Because of his argument with Doreen, Damian didn't keep me waiting long.

He came in rubbing his brow, and I carried the bowl of apricot punch over to him.

"Damian, have I put you in a hard spot?"

"I'm sorry. It might be because I'm carrying a son. The hormones make it hard for me to control my emotions. I got carried away."

Damian went quiet, and his gaze softened, softer and softer.

He took a sip of the apricot punch and pulled me into his arms.

He said gently,

"How could this be your fault? Doreen was the one with no sense of limits."

"It's so kind of you to make me apricot punch this late. Have some yourself."

The apricot punch was a dessert I'd chosen on purpose.

He picked it up and tried to press it into my hand.

But I looked almost angry enough to cry.

I gave his chest a light little punch.

"I remember that you love apricots. But you don't even remember that I'm allergic to them."

"No, I do care about you, I've just been so busy..."

Damian was visibly flustered.

I pretended to understand and kissed his cheek.

"As long as you care about me, that's enough. I forgive you."

Damian felt even guiltier. He carried me to the bed, his voice low and thick.

"Candice, you're so thoughtful. Without you, I wouldn't know what to do."

"Silly, how could I ever leave you?"

And with that, I slipped a contract into his hand.

"You're busy with the marriage alliance right now, so you can hand all of our own company's affairs to me and not worry about a thing."

Damian signed without hesitation.

He couldn't hide his anticipation; his mind had already drifted elsewhere.

"We're finally going to have a child."

His hand gently reached toward my already flat stomach.

As if just a few hours ago,

he hadn't been the one who made me get the abortion.

He murmured to himself, lost over the son who didn't exist.

"There's a son now."

"Then those elders will have no reason to challenge my right of succession."

"So what if I was born to a mistress? The Henson family is still mine."

He pressed down and accidentally bore against the wound from my surgery.

I couldn't help crying out in pain.

Which still stirred his suspicion.

"Candice, the baby's all right, isn't it? I only touched you a little. Why did you react so strongly?"

"Am I imagining things? Why is your stomach so flat?"

Damian still wanted to reach out.

Enduring the pain, I gripped his wrist.

"It's early, so it doesn't show yet."

"The doctor prescribed some medicated patches to protect the pregnancy. You'd better not touch them for now."

"They're just patches. Why can't I touch them?"

Damian's expression turned cold.

He was about to say something more.

Then came Doreen pounding on the door, shouting furiously,

"Candice Winfield, you're not even married and you're already stealing him right out in the open! You just wait."

"And you, Damian—"

I pushed Damian toward the door.

And said, aggrieved,

"I was worried that if you stayed too long, Doreen would be upset, and here you are snapping at me."

"I just didn't want to make things hard for my baby's father."

Damian was stunned.

He was gone a long time, then transferred another sum of money to my bank card.

Twenty million.

I took every cent.

But the real main event

was still the contract I'd conned Damian into signing.

I was getting closer and closer to the final outcome.

So close that, for a moment, I got careless.

It wasn't until I went to the company the next morning

that I finally understood what Doreen meant by "wait."