The world tilted. Amara's hand clamped around her Versace bag so tight her knuckles turned white.
"What?" Demian blurted, disbelief in his voice. "You two have another child? Sebastian, aren't you worried Amara might find out?"
"She'll never know," Sebastian said firmly. "I love Amara. She's been the one I've loved since our university days. But I can't abandon Elara either."
Demian sighed. "You can't hide the truth forever. If Amara finds out you've been lying to her all this time… she'll never forgive you."
There was a sound, the faint thud of a magazine closing.
"Then I'll make sure she never knows," Sebastian said coldly. The words sliced through the air, final, deliberate, and cruel.
Amara stood there, motionless, as his voice echoed in her mind. Then I'll make sure she never knows.
It was like hearing the death sentence of her marriage. Her chest tightened, her throat burned, but she couldn't cry, not here, not in front of the people who thought she had everything.
The perfect wife. The perfect marriage. The perfect lie.
Amara stood in the corridor, her vision blurred with tears. Her chest rose and fell as she struggled to breathe through the ache, clawing its way up her throat.
"I always thought we were soulmates," she whispered, her voice trembling. Eyes fixed on the polished marble floor that reflected everything, except the truth she thought she knew. "But it turns out… You betrayed me long ago."
She swallowed hard, her words caught in her throat. "Sebastian… you lied to me."
The walls felt like they were closing in. The perfect Mrs. Creed, adored, envied, admired, was now nothing more than a woman holding the shattered pieces of a dream.
Turning on her heels, Amara walked away before her legs could give out, forcing each step even as tears streamed freely down her face. The moment she stepped out of Creed Tech's grand glass doors, the cold breeze hit her, sharp and sobering.
She pulled out her phone with trembling fingers and dialed the one number that always answered.
"Mummy…" her voice cracked, soft and childlike. "I want to go home."
On the other end came a sigh heavy, tired, yet full of love. "Amara, you've finally come to your senses," Evelyn Piers said, her tone firm but motherly. "I never supported you being with Sebastian. You even gave up your identity as Piers for him. I warned you, my dear. That man..."
"It's all in the past now," Amara interrupted gently, her voice small but steady, as if saying it out loud might make it true.
Her mother's tone softened. "Alright. I'll send someone to bring you home."
"No need," Amara said quickly. "I still have things to take care of. I just have to… settle my accounts."
There was a pause. Then Evelyn's voice quivered with quiet pain.
"My dear, that's enough already. You got into that car crash and lost your ability to have children because of him. You saved his life, and now you're raising a child that isn't even yours." Her voice broke. "It breaks my heart every time I think about it. Please, hurry up and come home."
Amara closed her eyes, pressing her lips together to stop the sob, threatening to escape. "Okay, mummy… I'll be back in a week."
When the call ended, the silence felt heavier than before, a silence filled with memories she could no longer trust.
Then, her phone rang again.
Sebastian.
His name glowed on the screen, the name that once made her heart flutter now made her stomach twist.
Without a second thought, Amara hit end call. For the first time in ten years, she didn't want to hear his voice.
...
The Creed penthouse
Sebastian Creed stood in the kitchen of their luxury penthouse, apron tied neatly, tasting the sauce on his finger like a man auditioning for the role of perfect husband. The table was already set, candles lit, wine chilling, silverware polished until it gleamed.
He glanced at the clock.
8:15 p.m.
Still no, Amara.
He frowned, wiping his hands on a towel and picking up his phone for the tenth time.
"Hello, the number you have dialed,"
He ended the call with a frustrated sigh just as the door opened.
"Sweetheart!" Sebastian's face instantly lit up. He crossed the room in quick strides and pulled Amara into his arms. "Where did you go? You didn't answer my calls. I was so worried."
He kissed her cheek softly, his familiar scent, cedarwood and cologne, wrapping around her like muscle memory.
Amara forced a small smile, stiff in his embrace. "I went shopping. Sorry, my phone was on silent."
"Oh, my sweet princess, no need to apologize." He brushed a strand of hair from her face, eyes full of affection that now made her stomach twist. "I was just worried. You look tired, love… but that's okay. I made something special. Come on, you must be starving."
Before she could answer, he guided her toward the dining table, a masterpiece of romance. There was red wine, roses, and golden light flickering off crystal glasses.
"Sebastian…" she murmured, her voice thin.
"Come, sit." He pulled out her chair with a flourish, grinning like the charming man everyone believed he was. "Do you like it? I made everything myself."
Amara stared at the table, her eyes tracing the delicate details, the soft napkins, the perfectly folded petals in a vase, all the things that used to make her feel loved. "You made all this… for me?"
"Yes, my queen," he said proudly, pouring her a glass of wine. "Since Seren's spending the night with my mother, I thought we could finally have a quiet evening. Just us."
He leaned closer, brushing her hand gently. "Tell me, baby… what's wrong? You're too quiet. You make me sad when you don't smile, it breaks my heart. What is it?"
Amara looked at him, her chest tight. His concern sounded genuine it always did. That was Sebastian's gift he could sound sincere even while standing in a lie.
"I'm just tired, Seb," she said softly, her fingers brushing the stem of her wine glass. "But… I have something to ask you."
He smiled, serving her a plate. "Anything, my love. What is it?"
Amara turned slightly, reaching into her bag. Her fingers closed around the marriage certificate, the fake marriage certificate.
Her pulse quickened. Say it now, Amara.
But before she could speak, Sebastian's phone buzzed on the table.
He glanced at it. His expression shifted just for a second, a flicker of something guilty before he quickly locked the screen.
Amara froze, her hand still holding the paper. Their eyes met his calm, practiced, hers trembling, uncertain.
And in that silent exchange, she knew. He didn't have to say a word. His face said everything