Chapter 1 — The Fake Belly
Chapter 1 — The Fake Belly
Ryan came home carrying another woman.
Not just another woman.
A pregnant woman.
And behind them came his mother, Margaret, wearing the satisfied expression of someone who had been waiting years for this exact moment.
I stood at the bottom of the marble staircase, unable to move.
Ryan didn't look ashamed.
That was the first thing that broke my heart.
The second was the suitcase.
My suitcase.
He had packed it himself.
“Olivia,” he said coldly, “we need to talk.”
I looked at the woman leaning against him.
She was young, beautiful, and apparently eight months pregnant.
Her cream dress stretched tightly around an enormous stomach.
She lowered her eyes.
“I’m Vanessa.”
“I know.”
My voice sounded strange.
Almost emotionless.
Ryan's mother smiled.
“This is what happens when a marriage has reached its natural end.”
I looked at her.
“Natural?”
Margaret folded her arms.
“You've been married to Ryan for six years. You couldn't give him a child.”
Vanessa placed a protective hand over her stomach.
“But I can.”
Ryan walked toward the sofa.
“This isn't about humiliating you.”
I looked at my suitcase.
“Really?”
He didn't answer.
“You packed my belongings.”
“Yes.”
“You brought your mistress into our home.”
“She isn't my mistress.”
I laughed.
“What should I call her?”
Ryan's jaw tightened.
“The mother of my child.”
The words hit harder than I expected.
I had spent six years loving this man.
Six years building a life with him.
Six years believing that no matter what happened outside our marriage, he would come home to me.
Apparently, I had been the only one believing that.
I looked at Vanessa.
“How long?”
She lowered her eyes.
Ryan answered.
“Eight months.”
Eight months.
I almost smiled.
“You've been sleeping with her for eight months?”
“Olivia—”
“While I was sitting beside you at dinner?”
Silence.
“While I was helping your mother organize her charity gala?”
Nothing.
“While you told me you were working late?”
Ryan looked away.
I nodded slowly.
“So that's what those nights were.”
Margaret interrupted.
“This isn't productive.”
I turned toward her.
“Of course it isn't.”
I wiped the corner of my eye.
“You've already decided how this ends.”
Margaret smiled.
“Yes.”
She looked at Vanessa.
“With the family finally getting an heir.”
There it was again.
An heir.
Not a child.
Not a baby.
An heir.
The word stayed in my mind.
I looked at Ryan.
“Is that all I was to you?”
He didn't understand.
“What?”
“A wife who couldn't produce an heir?”
He remained silent.
That silence was my answer.
I turned away.
“Fine.”
Ryan seemed surprised.
“Fine?”
“I'll leave.”
I reached for my suitcase.
Margaret smiled.
“You're doing the right thing.”
But before I could pull the suitcase toward the door, Vanessa suddenly gasped.
“Ryan…”
He rushed toward her.
“What happened?”
She clutched her stomach.
“I feel dizzy.”
Margaret immediately grabbed her arm.
“Sit down.”
Vanessa shook her head.
“I can't.”
Her face had gone pale.
Ryan looked terrified.
“Should I call an ambulance?”
“No.”
Margaret's answer came too quickly.
Ryan looked at her.
“Mom?”
“I know what to do.”
Something about that sentence bothered me.
Margaret walked Vanessa toward the staircase.
Then Vanessa stopped.
Her eyes widened.
Something moved beneath her dress.
I stared.
At first, I thought the baby had kicked.
But then the entire stomach shifted.
Not naturally.
The huge belly slid sideways.
Vanessa screamed.
“Help me!”
Ryan grabbed her.
But the object beneath her dress was already falling.
It slipped free.
Dropped.
And hit the marble floor.
THUD.
Nobody spoke.
I stared at the enormous silicone belly lying between us.
Ryan stared at it.
Vanessa began shaking.
Margaret went completely white.
I looked at Ryan.
Then at the fake pregnancy belly.
Then back at Vanessa.
“That's…”
My voice broke.
“…not real.”
Ryan looked at his mother.
“Mom?”
Margaret didn't answer.
“Mom!”
She finally whispered:
“Calm down.”
Ryan laughed.
It was a short, disbelieving sound.
“Calm down?”
He pointed at the floor.
“She isn't pregnant.”
Vanessa burst into tears.
“I am!”
Ryan stared at her.
“You just dropped your stomach.”
Vanessa covered her face.
“I didn't have a choice.”
“What does that mean?”
Margaret stepped forward.
“Ryan, listen to me.”
“No!”
He moved toward her.
“You told me she was pregnant.”
“I know.”
“You showed me medical reports.”
“I know.”
“You made me believe I was going to have a child.”
“I was protecting you.”
Ryan froze.
“Protecting me from what?”
Margaret didn't answer.
I watched her carefully.
Her hands were trembling.
That was when I noticed something.
Margaret wasn't angry that the fake pregnancy had been exposed.
She was terrified.
Terrified of someone.
I looked at Vanessa.
“Who made you do this?”
Vanessa shook her head.
“I can't.”
“Who?”
“I can't tell you.”
Ryan grabbed her arm.
“Tell me!”
Vanessa flinched violently.
Not because of Ryan.
Because Margaret had moved closer.
Margaret whispered:
“Vanessa.”
The girl immediately stopped crying.
Her face went white.
That told me everything.
Margaret was the person she feared.
I stepped forward.
“You hired her.”
Margaret looked at me.
“Don't be ridiculous.”
“You hired her to pretend to be pregnant.”
“No.”
Vanessa suddenly whispered:
“Yes.”
Margaret turned sharply.
“Vanessa.”
The girl recoiled.
“I’m sorry.”
Ryan looked between them.
“You paid her?”
Margaret didn't answer.
“Mom!”
“I did what was necessary.”
Ryan's face hardened.
“Why?”
Margaret looked at me.
“Because you were going to destroy everything.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“You were going to take Ryan away from his family.”
I stared at her.
“Ryan is a grown man.”
“He is my son.”
“And I'm his wife.”
“Not anymore.”
I laughed bitterly.
“You never wanted me as his wife.”
“No.”
Margaret looked directly into my eyes.
“I wanted you gone.”
There was no point pretending anymore.
Ryan stepped forward.
“What were you planning to do?”
Margaret remained silent.
I looked at Vanessa.
“Tell me.”
Vanessa was crying.
“I was supposed to convince you to leave.”
“Why?”
“Because if you stayed…”
She looked at Margaret.
“…the transfer couldn't happen.”
My blood ran cold.
“What transfer?”
Margaret's expression changed.
“Enough.”
I looked at Ryan.
“Transfer of what?”
He shook his head.
“I don't know.”
Vanessa whispered:
“His father's shares.”
Silence.
Ryan stared at her.
“My father's shares?”
Vanessa nodded.
“Margaret said they would become available after your marriage ended.”
I looked at Margaret.
“What shares?”
She didn't answer.
Ryan's voice became dangerously quiet.
“Mom.”
Margaret closed her eyes.
“You don't understand.”
“No.”
He stepped closer.
“You're going to explain.”
But before she could answer, the front doors opened.
A man in a dark suit walked inside.
Everyone turned.
I recognized him.
He had worked for my father.
His name was Thomas Reed.
I hadn't seen him in eight years.
He looked at me.
Then at Margaret.
Then at the fake belly on the floor.
His expression hardened.
“So she finally did it.”
I frowned.
“Did what?”
Thomas looked at Ryan.
“Your mother finally tried to take control.”
Ryan stared at him.
“Who are you?”
Thomas ignored him.
He walked toward me and handed me a sealed envelope.
“This belongs to you.”
I took it.
My father's handwriting was on the front.
For Olivia.
My hands began shaking.
“He wrote this?”
“Yes.”
“But he's dead.”
Thomas looked at Margaret.
“He was declared dead.”
I froze.
“What does that mean?”
Thomas didn't answer.
Margaret suddenly shouted:
“Get out!”
Thomas smiled.
“You're afraid.”
“I said get out!”
He looked at me.
“Open the letter.”
Margaret rushed forward.
I stepped backward.
“Don't.”
She stopped.
Thomas nodded.
“Good.”
I tore open the envelope.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
I read the first line.
Olivia, if Margaret ever brings a pregnant woman into your home, do not leave.
My heart stopped.
I read it again.
Then again.
Ryan looked over my shoulder.
“What does it say?”
I couldn't speak.
Thomas took a step forward.
“Keep reading.”
I did.
The pregnancy will be fake.
My hands began trembling.
And when it is exposed, Margaret will try to convince you that the only thing she wants is control of the family fortune.
I looked at Margaret.
She was crying now.
Not from guilt.
From fear.
The letter continued.
She is lying.
I swallowed.
The shares are only a distraction.
My heart pounded.
The real reason she needs you out of this house is because you are the only person who can expose what happened eight years ago.
I stopped reading.
“What happened eight years ago?”
Thomas looked at me.
“The night your father disappeared.”
Ryan turned toward his mother.
“You knew Olivia's father?”
Margaret didn't answer.
I looked at her.
“You knew him.”
She whispered:
“Yes.”
“How?”
Silence.
“Margaret.”
Her eyes met mine.
Then she said something that changed everything.
“I was there the night he died.”
I felt the world stop.
Ryan stared at her.
“What?”
Margaret covered her mouth.
She had said too much.
Thomas looked at me.
“Now you understand.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“I don't.”
Thomas pointed toward the fake belly.
“That was never about replacing you.”
“Then what was it about?”
“To get you out of this house.”
“Why?”
“Because your father left something here.”
My heart pounded.
“What?”
Thomas looked toward the staircase.
“Something Margaret has spent eight years trying to find.”
I stared at the mansion.
My home.
The place where I had lived for six years.
Suddenly it didn't feel like a home anymore.
It felt like a crime scene.
I looked at Ryan.
“Did you know?”
He shook his head.
“No.”
“Did you know your mother was using Vanessa?”
“No.”
I believed him.
At least I believed that part.
Then Vanessa suddenly grabbed my wrist.
Her fingers were freezing.
“Olivia.”
I looked at her.
“Please.”
“What?”
“Don't leave.”
“Why?”
She looked at Margaret.
“Because if you leave tonight…”
Her voice trembled.
“…she gets what she wants.”
Margaret stepped forward.
“Vanessa, don't.”
Vanessa began crying.
“She told me you would disappear.”
I froze.
“What?”
Vanessa whispered:
“She said nobody would ever find you.”
Ryan turned toward his mother.
“Mom.”
Margaret said nothing.
Ryan's voice cracked.
“What did you do?”
Margaret stared at him.
Then the mansion lights went out.
Complete darkness swallowed the room.
A phone began ringing.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Thomas reached for his own phone.
“Don't answer.”
But Ryan's phone was already in his hand.
He answered.
“Hello?”
A man's voice came through.
Old.
Calm.
Familiar.
Ryan's face changed.
I couldn't hear everything.
Only one sentence.
“Ask your mother why she buried your father's body under the east wing.”
The call ended.
Ryan slowly lowered his phone.
I looked at Margaret.
She was shaking uncontrollably.
I whispered:
“Is it true?”
She didn't answer.
Thomas turned toward me.
“Now you know why she needed you gone.”
I looked toward the dark staircase.
The east wing.
A part of the mansion I had never been allowed to enter.
For six years, Margaret had told me it was structurally unsafe.
For six years, the doors had remained locked.
For six years, I had never questioned her.
I looked at Ryan.
“Open the east wing.”
He stared at me.
Then at his mother.
Margaret shook her head.
“No.”
Ryan walked toward the staircase.
“Mom.”
“Ryan, don't.”
He stopped.
She looked at him with tears in her eyes.
“If you open that door…”
She swallowed.
“…you'll destroy this family.”
Ryan looked back at me.
I tightened my grip around my father's letter.
“No.”
I whispered.
“Your mother destroyed the family eight years ago.”
Then I walked toward the locked east wing.
And for the first time since I had entered that mansion as Ryan's bride—
May you like
I wasn't afraid of what I would find behind the door.
I was afraid of what I would discover about the people I had trusted.
