THE BILLIONAIRE, HIS MURDEROUS MISTRESS AND THE WIFE REBORN

Tehila

The pregnancy test sat on the marble bathroom counter, two pink lines glaring back at me like an accusation. Three years of trying, of hoping, of monthly disappointments that left me heartbroken. And now, on our third anniversary, the universe finally decided to cooperate.

I pressed my hand against my flat stomach, imagining the life growing inside me. The surprise I'd been waiting to give Dalton for so long.

I remembered the night he'd first talked about having children. We'd been lying in bed in his penthouse, tangled in Egyptian cotton sheets, and he'd traced circles on my bare shoulder with his fingertip. "I want a family with you," he'd said, his voice very soft. "Not the kind of family I grew up in, that was all appearances and no unity. A real family. The kind where kids grow up knowing they're loved."

That vulnerability had made me fall deeper. Dalton Blackwood, billionaire heir, is showing me the reality of being in his world.

I'd met him at a charity gala where I was serving champagne to pay for my graduate program. He was different from the other wealthy attendees. He had actually looked at me, seen me, and asked my name. When my scholarship fell through two months later, he didn't write a check. Instead, he'd helped me find work-study opportunities that cater for my needs. "You're not a charity case," he'd said. "You're brilliant. You just need a fair shot."

Those early days felt like a lifetime ago.

I tucked the pregnancy test into my purse. Tonight at the anniversary dinner, I'd tell him. I'd planned it perfectly, a private moment in the garden before joining the family for the formal celebration Estelle insisted on hosting. His grandmother was the only Blackwood who'd ever made me feel welcome.

The rest of them, particularly Victoria, had made their disapproval clear from day one. I’m from a middle-class background, with no connections, but everything the Blackwood matriarch despised.

Dalton had fought for me. I remembered him saying, "I'm marrying Tehila. With or without your blessing," in his mother's sitting room, and in that moment, I believed that our love could survive anything.

Though doubt had crept in lately. Every night, Dalton came home later, giving the same excuses. The new development project, endless meetings, and investor demands. He had stopped asking about my day and brushing his toes on mine under the dining table during dinners. We were growing farther apart, but I had always convinced myself that I was imagining it.

I checked my reflection in the mirror. The emerald dress hugged my curves perfectly, the colour bringing out the glow in my brown skin. The diamond earrings caught the light. It was a gift from Dalton on our first anniversary. I looked like I belonged in the Blackwood world now, even if I'd never feel like it.

My phone vibrated, showing a text from Dalton. Running late. Start without me if needed.

My stomach twisted. He was going to be late to our own anniversary dinner. I typed back a response, keeping my tone light, refusing to let my disappointment show in the texts.

The drive to the Blackwood estate took forty minutes. I'd made this journey countless times, but tonight the familiar route felt strange. The iron gates opened automatically, recognising my car. The mansion is beyond magnificent. It's all Gothic architecture and old money, a monument to a legacy I'd married into but would never truly inherit.

Estelle met me at the entrance, elegant in navy silk, her white hair perfectly coiffed. "Tehila, darling. You look radiant." The old woman's eyes were sharp, missing nothing. "Where's my grandson?"

"Running late. Work." I heard the strain in my own voice.

Estelle's expression tightened, but she said nothing. She'd been married to a Blackwood once. She understood the cost of that name.

Victoria appeared from the drawing room, champagne flute in hand. Her gaze swept over me. "How convenient that Dalton isn't here to celebrate with you." Her tone dripped with implication.

"He'll be here soon," I said, lifting my chin.

"Will he?" Victoria's smile was piercing. "Men have such demanding schedules these days."

I wanted to ask what she meant, but Estelle touched my arm gently. "Come, dear. Let's get you something to drink. Non-alcoholic, I assume?" Her knowing look made my breath catch. Could she tell?

The garden lights twinkled in the dusk as guests arrived. Business associates, family friends, society people who'd never accepted me but smiled anyway because the Blackwoods demanded it. I circulated through the crowd, playing the role of the perfect wife, while my phone remained silent.

An hour passed. Then another. Still no Dalton.

I stepped away from the crowd, seeking quietness in the garden. The rose garden had always been my favourite part of the estate. Dalton had proposed here, on one knee in the moonlight, his usual confidence replaced by endearing nervousness. "I know I come with complications," he'd said. "But I promise I'll always choose you first."

Back then, I had believed him.

I heard low and intimate voices from behind the hedges. I recognised Dalton's voice immediately. My instinct, which I wished I'd ignored, made me move closer.

Wrapped around each other, they stood under the arbour. Dalton had a woman in his arms that I had only seen in photographs. Sienna Reyes. His former fiancée. The woman who'd left him three years ago.

"I never stopped loving you," Dalton said, his voice breaking with emotion I hadn't heard from him in months. "Not for a single day."

The pregnancy test in my purse suddenly made my bag very heavy.