Chapter 1
The Timing Couldn’t Be Worse “Congratulations, Mrs. Parker!” The doctor’s smile was warm, but Alicia felt a chill creep over her. “Pregnant?” she barely managed to breathe out, eyes wide in disbelief. Pregnant? After two years of marriage, Edward Parker hadn’t touched her, at least not lately… How could this be happening now, of all times? The doctor nodded, handing over the test results. “You’re six weeks along, and everything looks healthy.” Alicia took the paper, her emotions a tangled mess. She and Edward were in the middle of negotiating a divorce, and this news couldn’t have arrived at a worse moment. But deep down, a flicker of hope stirred: Would Edward be happy about this baby? She carefully tucked the test results into her purse just as the elevator doors opened. But before she could step out, a familiar voice sliced through the air. “Are you feeling better?” She froze, watching Edward and Isabella step out of another elevator, all smiles and laughter. Edward’s concern for Isabella felt like a punch to the gut. “Alicia! There you are!” Isabella exclaimed, her bright smile sharp against Alicia’s increasing discomfort. Alicia forced a smile, but her gaze inadvertently drifted to Isabella's hand wrapped around Edward’s arm. Was this little display a way of claiming him for herself? As her eyes flicked up, she caught Edward’s gaze. “Edward,” she said, her voice softening against her will. He looked at her, his expression cool and detached. “Did you finish the divorce papers?” His chill felt like a slap, as if she were just a colleague asking for a favor. Alicia bit her lip and pulled out a file from her bag, handing it to him. Isabella seamlessly took the file, oblivious to the tension, but then a folded sheet of paper fluttered from the file and landed softly on the floor. “What’s this?” Isabella asked, picking it up curiously. But before she could unfold it, Alicia snatched it from her hands. “It’s nothing,” Alicia said, gripping the pregnancy test tightly. “I just wasn’t feeling well and went in for a check-up.” Isabella pouted playfully, “What a coincidence! I’ve been feeling under the weather too. But my big brother Edward insisted I come to the hospital for a check. Such a fuss over nothing!” Alicia swallowed the bitterness rising in her throat. “Well, you two enjoy yourselves. I’ll just take a cab home.” “Wait!” Isabella chirped, not taking no for an answer. “You and Edward live together, so why waste money on a cab? I just finished my check-up; let’s all ride together!” Alicia choked back a wave of frustration. So, she knew about their living arrangement. Didn’t she realize that Alicia was still his wife? All sorts of emotions churned inside her, and in a moment of defiance, she replied, “Fine, let’s do that.” Edward shot her a brief look, but said nothing. He merely turned to Isabella, “Let’s go.” It felt like she was simply an afterthought in their little bubble. Isabella guided them to the parking lot, and while Edward slid into the passenger seat, Alicia found herself shoved into the back, feeling like a child amid the grown-ups. “Alicia!” Isabella scooted close, her face lit with mischief. She leaned in conspiratorially. “You get it now, right? Edward only listens to me.” “What do you mean?” Alicia frowned, still puzzled. Isabella smirked, then suddenly pinched Alicia’s arm hard enough to sting. Alicia couldn’t help but gasp. The implications were clear—a declaration of territorial ownership that was suffocating and humiliating. The ride felt painfully quiet, the tension thick in the air, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Alicia stared out of the window, heart racing with the weight of her secret, a tiny life growing inside her, and she wondered if this unexpected development would change everything. Or, more frighteningly, nothing at all.
Chapter 2
**Overlong Jokes** A sharp pain shot through Alistair Bright, causing her to cry out instinctively. She pushed Isabella Hawthorne to one side. Isabella stumbled, hitting her head on the car roof, letting out a melodramatic whine. “Ouch! Edward, Alistair pushed me!” Alistair glanced helplessly at Isabella as tears cascaded down her cheeks like marbles rolling off a table. “I didn’t—she did it to herself…” “I didn’t do anything…” Isabella curled into herself, sobbing. “Edward, I’m scared! Make her get out; I can’t stand to see her…” Edward Parker turned to shoot Alistair a glance. Got it? Edward only listens to me. The realization of that echoing sentiment made Alistair’s heart tighten, a flicker of hope creeping in as she looked back at Edward. But his lips barely moved, uttering only two icy words, “Get out.” As soon as the words left his mouth, the car came to a screeching halt by the roadside. Silence enveloped the cabin, broken only by Isabella’s muffled sniffles. Alistair felt like the sole intruder in a suffocating space. Every breath she took pushed her further into feeling like a long, drawn-out joke. With a deep breath to stifle her tears, she grabbed her purse and stepped out of the car without looking back. The moment she slammed the door shut, the engine roared to life again. She stumbled a few steps forward, almost tripping, before regaining her balance. Edward Parker disappeared into the distance, ready to believe every clumsy lie that tumbled from Isabella’s lips instead of offering Alistair one word of explanation. A self-deprecating smile crept onto her face as she tucked her pregnancy test results into her bag’s hidden compartment before hailing a cab home. Pregnancy seemed to drain her energy completely; as soon as she got in, she buried herself beneath the sheets. Tears lingered in her eyes, but as soon as her head hit the pillow, she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. Sometime later, she awoke to the sound of someone else arriving home. Who could that be this late? Alistair pulled the covers off and swung her legs over the bed, just as the bathroom door swung open. Edward Parker emerged in a bathrobe, rubbing his wet hair with a towel. She blinked in surprise but instinctively moved toward him, taking the towel from his hands to dry his hair. Then he caught her off guard, pulling the towel from her grip and pushing her back onto the bed. His lips descended to her neck. “Wait—” Alistair’s foggy mind cleared when she realized her nightgown was halfway gone. Panic surged through her as she pushed back against him. Edward halted, a lustful glint in his eyes mixed with an unsettling dominance. “Not interested?” She froze, disbelief crossing her face. How could she possibly turn him down? Refusal had never been an option with Edward. Instinctively, she touched her belly and bit her lip. “Just… be gentle, okay? I’m scared.” His expression darkened, unreadable, yet his touch was anything but tender. … Just then, Edward paused, glancing at his phone. Alistair bit her lip, knowing only one person would dare call him at this hour: Isabella. Sure enough, Edward’s anger seemed to dissipate as he answered, his tone shifting to soft concern. “Hope, what’s up?” “Edward,” Isabella’s voice filtered through the speaker. “I’m afraid of the dark. Can you come keep me company?” Edward’s gaze fell on Alistair, who held herself tense and still, resembling an exquisite porcelain doll. “Okay, I’ll be right there,” he replied, his voice lacking warmth and enthusiasm. Alistair felt a sharp pang in her chest. Just seconds ago, he was ready to devour her whole; now, right in front of her, he was agreeing to another woman’s late-night request. Maybe it was frustration simmering beneath the surface or the new weight of knowing she was pregnant that made her feel vulnerable. As Edward started to move, Alistair wrestled with her feelings before finally pushing through the words that had been stuck in her throat. “Can you stay for tonight?”
Chapter 3
**Out of Her League** Edward Parker furrowed his brow. "Alistair Bright, don’t push your luck." She blinked in surprise. As his formal wife, was asking him to stay really pushing her luck? Alistair couldn't hold back a protest. "I’m your wife! Is it wrong to want you here with me?" "Wife?" Edward shot back, his voice dripping with disdain. "You know exactly how you became Mrs. Parker." And she did. Two years ago, when Edward's grandfather was gravely ill, he had insisted in the St. Aldrich Intensive Ward that Edward marry her. Though reluctant, Edward had complied out of respect for his grandfather's last wishes. Without that family pressure, a man like Edward Parker would hardly have looked her way. "I know you resent me, but my grandfather—" Alistair started, but Edward shoved her back onto the bed, anger twisting his features. Alistair jumped at his sudden movement. "Are you threatening me?" His cold, piercing gaze locked onto her. Though he was so near, his words were nothing but ice-cold. "Don't get ahead of yourself." Each word dripped with disdain, silencing Alistair instantly. She shrank beneath him, suddenly keenly aware that she had crossed one of his many boundaries. She had indeed misjudged her own limits. The most reckless thing she'd ever done in her life was marrying Edward Parker and, against all odds, falling in love with him. Staring at the man above her, she felt a surge of courage as she unexpectedly wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, preventing him from leaving. "Then I won’t say anything more. Will you stay?" Edward braced himself on his arms, looking down at her with undeniable impatience. "What do you think?" Alistair bit her lip. From Edward's perspective, she knew the answer all too well—he wouldn’t. Still, the thought of him refusing because of someone else stabbed at her heart, weighing her down like a stone. She met his gaze, her voice barely above a whisper. "Can’t… can’t you stay?" Silence fell, Edward's penetrating stare bore deep into her, as if he might detach from her at any moment. Her hands trembled, yet she couldn’t bear to let go. With a sudden breath of determination, she pushed him down onto the bed. Surprised, Edward’s eyes flashed as, in a dizzying motion, Alistair found herself straddling him. "Well…" he chuckled, amusement flickering in his expression. Just as he was about to question her stamina, she slid slowly down his body. Heat radiated between them, causing Edward’s brow to twitch. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice low. Alistair pressed herself against the bed without answering. The vibrant man before her was fortifying his resolve, steeling himself against the overwhelming attraction they both felt. With a small child growing inside her, Alistair desperately needed to hold onto him, unable to handle the force of Edward’s previous advances. Alistair’s mind raced with this singular thought. Closing her eyes, she shivered as she kissed his abdomen, her lips soft yet unsure, her movements clumsy but filled with longing. Only Edward realized that this awkward gesture was a dangerous enchantment, pulling him into disarray. Just as Alistair was about to reach his most sensitive spot, he couldn't take it anymore. In a swift motion, he pulled her back up, crashing his lips onto hers. The sounds of their shared breaths echoed through the darkened room, as Edward held her chin captive, kissing her fiercely like a man releasing pent-up frustration. Eventually, when Alistair’s breathing grew frantic, Edward reluctantly pulled away, worrying that if he didn’t, she would suffocate beneath his overwhelming desire. "Very clever, Alistair Bright," he said, his expression hardening, "Is this how you keep your partners around?" Her heart sank under the weight of his gaze, feeling every ounce of warmth leave her. "I didn’t! You know our first time…you were aware of that! Before you, I’d never been with anyone else!" That night with Edward had been her first. She had bled heavily, left so sore she could barely get out of bed for two days. Yet, to Edward, the memory held no warmth. Instead, his voice cut through the night, cold and dismissive. "Right, you meticulously handed over your virginity. I’m not surprised you have more tricks up your sleeve." His words stung like a whip, leaving Alistair gasping for a retort that wouldn’t come. In Edward's mind, she was nothing more than a cunning, vile woman. No matter how many times she explained herself, he would never believe her. They fell into an uncomfortable silence, when suddenly, a crash of thunder split the night. Alistair's heart raced as she turned her gaze to the window. Outside, the storm raged, heavy raindrops lashing against the glass. At that moment, the bedroom door knocked, and Margaret Bennett's voice emerged through the pounding storm. "Sir, ma'am, Isabella Hawthorne is here."
Chapter 4
The Last Straw Alistair Bright felt a chill creep into her heart. She had gone to great lengths to humiliate herself in front of Edward Parker tonight, all to prevent him from seeing Isabella Hawthorne. The last thing she expected was for Isabella to show up uninvited, soaking wet and determined to claim him. As Alistair watched Edward get dressed, his indifference stung more than she thought possible. She clung to his shirt, desperately trying to keep him from leaving, but he brushed her aside without so much as a glance before storming out the bedroom door. The noise of thunder cracked through the air as the door slammed shut behind him. Alistair lay back on the bed, enveloped by a deafening silence. Outside, the thunderstorm raged on, but inside her heart, it felt like the world had faded into stillness the moment Edward had turned his back on her. After a brief hesitation, she dressed and stepped out of the bedroom. Standing at the top of the staircase, Alistair spotted Isabella Hawthorne in the foyer, drenched and shivering. The girl’s white dress clung to her, and her pale face contrasted with her bright red nose and teary eyes. Edward Parker strode toward her, concern etching his features as he reached her side. “Isabella,” he said softly. “Why didn't you call me before coming over? I could have sent someone to pick you up.” She melted against him as he wrapped his arms around her. He took a towel from their housekeeper, Margaret Bennett, and gently wiped Isabella's wet hair, his voice laced with tender command. “Don’t ever do this again. You could get sick.” A coy smile broke through Isabella’s tears as warmth returned to her cheeks. She gazed up at him with wide eyes, her voice soft as spun sugar. “But I missed you so much, Edward! I felt so alone and scared at home. Please don’t send me away—I want to stay with you.” “Stay?” Edward repeated, an eyebrow raised. “You know you’re welcome here.” He draped the towel over her hair with a playful grin. Her face lit up with joy, and her fingers linked through his arm as they drifted towards the stairs. Just as they reached the landing, Alistair stepped into view, blocking their path. “Edward, we need to talk,” she managed to say, her voice trembling. “Move aside,” he ordered, irritation flaring in his tone. Alistair stood rooted in place, her face drained of color. Seeing Isabella wrapped in Edward’s affection made her heart ache. He glanced at her with those cold, familiar eyes, and she felt invisible. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to confront the truth. “You promised me, in front of Ethan, that I would be the only woman in this house! You can’t just bring her here without telling me!” “Why would I have to explain myself to you?” Edward snapped, his eyes darkening. He pushed past her, taking Isabella with him, his silhouette brushing past her as if she were just a shadow. “Isabella, don’t mind her,” Edward said coolly, casting a quick glance over his shoulder. Isabella hesitated, eyeing Alistair uncertainly. “Maybe I should go back…” Alistair sank against the wall, completely defeated as their voices faded into the distance. She clutched the discarded pillow he’d thrown aside and felt hollow, the silence echoing like a painful reminder of her loss. Hours passed until, finally, the first rays of dawn cracked through the darkness. Alistair had drifted off to sleep briefly but was jolted awake by a familiar sound—Isabella’s bright laughter floating through the air. “Wow! Edward, this seafood porridge is amazing!” the girl exclaimed, her voice puncturing through the haze of Alistair's dreams like a bell. With a rush of adrenaline, Alistair threw on some clothes and followed the sounds downstairs, where she found Edward cooking in the kitchen. She blinked in disbelief. After all these years of marriage, she was witnessing a side of Edward she never knew existed—he could cook. Maybe that old saying about gentlemen staying away from the kitchen was simply because he hadn’t found the right inspiration. Reality hit hard as she watched him tenderly serve Isabella, laughter filling the air. This was the moment she realized how utterly alone she truly was.
Chapter 5
**The Housekeeper Role** Isabella Hawthorne dramatically slurped her porridge, her eyes squinted in bliss as if she were about to float away on a cloud of happiness. “Hey, Alistair!” As she opened her eyes, she spotted Alistair Bright standing in the living room and immediately waved her over, enthusiasm bubbling over. “The porridge Edward made smells amazing! You should totally try it!” Alistair kept her silence, not wanting to push any buttons by intruding. But Isabella, blissfully unaware—or perhaps willfully ignorant—of Alistair’s mood, turned to the kitchen where Edward Parker was stirring. “Edward, is there enough porridge? Let’s get a bowl for Alistair!” Edward came out, tray of dumplings in hand, and shot a brief glance at Alistair, but said nothing. Just that fleeting look sent a spike of discomfort through Alistair, a silent reminder of their fractured relationship. “Come on, Alistair! Join us!” Isabella tugged on Edward’s arm, her voice a playful whine. “Your cooking is so good, everyone deserves a taste!” “Whatever she wants,” Edward muttered as he settled at the table, serving Isabella a dumpling while they started indulging in their breakfast bliss. Alistair stood awkwardly to the side, feeling like an outsider in her own home. “Miss, why aren’t you eating?” Margaret Bennett happened to pass by with a mop, her curiosity piqued. “Oh, I’m just about to…” Finally finding a way to escape, Alistair hurried to sit next to Edward, feeling stiff and out of place like a guest at a party she didn’t want to attend. “Alistair,” Isabella piped up, an innocent grin on her face, “I want to dip my dumpling in vinegar. It’s right there—can you hand it to me?” Alistair followed the direction of her finger, noticing the vinegar dish on the opposite side of the table, nowhere near where Isabella sat. If they were being truthful, Isabella was actually closer to it. Clenching her jaw, Alistair bit her lip. It felt like Isabella was treating her like a live-in maid, but it was such a trivial request that she didn’t want to blow up over nothing. With a reluctant sigh, she set down her chopsticks, stood up, and fetched the vinegar, returning to plop it in front of Isabella. “Thanks, Alistair!” Isabella beamed, teasingly rolling her eyes as she dipped her dumpling in the sauce and held it to Edward’s lips. “This is so good, Edward! You’ve outdone yourself!” Edward glanced at the dumpling and, to Alistair’s surprise, leaned down to take a bite. As they quickly devoured the entire dish of vinegar, Isabella turned her attention back to Alistair with her next order. “Sister, I need more vinegar! Can you grab another dish from the kitchen? Oh, and my porridge is gone—could you refill that too?” Alistair blinked, disbelief washing over her. Was Isabella really going to treat her like a servant? She glanced over at Edward for some solidarity; surely he would step in. But he was fully engrossed in his breakfast, ignoring Isabella completely. Defeated, Alistair stood up. Just yesterday, she’d angered Edward after dealing with Isabella’s drama; she didn’t want to start the day with more conflict. Not wanting to upset him again, she headed to the kitchen, filled a bowl with porridge, and grabbed more vinegar. “Thanks, Alistair,” Isabella chirped, her voice dripping with sweetness that only irritated Alistair further. She wasn’t a maid; she didn’t need this fake gratitude. “I’m done,” Edward announced suddenly, rising from his seat without a glance toward Alistair. He patted Isabella affectionately on the head. “Stay here if you want; I’ll be back soon.” Isabella nodded, watching him leave with a forlorn look. The moment Edward was out the door, Isabella’s enthusiasm vanished. She pushed her bowl towards Alistair, her expression dismissive. “Here, you can have this, Alistair.” With a mock sigh, she pinched her own slim waist. “I can’t possibly finish that.” Seeing Isabella drop the facade made Alistair roll her eyes in disbelief. “Even a beggar knows to finish what's on their plate.” “Am I a beggar?” Isabella feigned shock, a laugh escaping her lips. “Please, wake up. Right now, I’m doing you a favor by letting you have my food. Who’s the beggar here?” Isabella clicked her tongue, giving Alistair a look of pity. “If it weren’t for me, you would’ve never tasted a single bite of Edward’s cooking.” Words caught in Alistair’s throat, the apathy of Isabella’s remarks making her stomach turn. She stood to leave for her room, desperate to escape, but Isabella called after her, a threat concealed beneath a sweet tone. “Alistair, I suggest you think about divorcing Edward quickly, or I promise you won’t have an easy life around here.”
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