Chapter 5

Willow POV

"Thank you," I tried to keep my voice calm, "but Charles said he'd come back for me. I'll just wait here."

Blake seemed stunned—probably surprised anyone would refuse Sterling.

He glanced at the back seat, then turned back, his tone more polite. "Ms. Spencer, Mr. Lancaster has something to say to you."

My heart sank.

Was he coming to give me trouble? But refusing would seem even more suspicious.

"All right."

Blake got out and opened the rear door for me.

I climbed in, deliberately sitting as far away as possible.

Sterling sat on the other side, suit immaculate, posture relaxed. Those deep eyes watched me like he was evaluating an object of uncertain value.

In the enclosed car, I caught a faint scent of fir—the same as last night. Sterling's scent.

I couldn't help remembering—his burning hands, his dominating kiss, my body spiraling out of control.

My cheeks flushed.

I didn't dare look at him. I stared at my hands.

Sterling's gaze never left me. That feeling of being stalked by a predator made me tense.

His voice broke the silence, low and calm with a hint of displeasure.

"Are you afraid of me?"

My breathing hitched.

"No." But my nervous voice betrayed me.

"Really?" His tone carried mockery. "Then why are you sitting so far away?"

"I just…" I tried to explain but couldn't find a suitable reason.

Sterling didn't press further. He leaned back, fingers lightly tapping the armrest.

When he spoke again, his voice held no emotion. "You're Charles's wife now. A member of the Lancaster family."

"That means you should understand," he continued, his tone colder, "the Lancaster family's reputation cannot be tarnished. Your every action represents this family."

My heart sank. Was he warning me?

"What happened at the banquet today," Sterling said, "I don't want to see it a second time. Whatever problems you have with Charles, don't let them become fodder for outsiders. Understood?"

So that was it.

I relaxed, but also felt an inexplicable disappointment.

I'd thought earlier he was somewhat on my side. Turns out he was just protecting the family's image.

"I understand." I said. "Thank you for the reminder. It won't happen again."

He glanced at me, said nothing more, and looked away.

Silence again. I secretly observed his profile—cold, restrained, radiating an unapproachable aloofness.

The man who'd lost control last night and the indifferent family head before me seemed like two different people.

Hard to imagine he was the one who'd left so many marks on my body.

Maybe to him, last night was just an accident—a mistake easily forgotten.

The car entered the city. I spoke up. "I can get out here. I don't want to waste your time. I can get home myself."

Blake looked in the rearview mirror, waiting for instructions.

Sterling was silent for a few seconds. "Stop the car."

The car slowed to a stop.

I opened the door, about to step out, when his voice came from behind me. "Willow."

My movements froze.

"Last night—" he began, a trace of hesitation in his voice.

My heart nearly stopped.

But he only paused, then said, "Never mind. Get out."

I got out, relieved.

I found a pharmacy. I stood outside, taking several deep breaths before pushing the door open.

I needed emergency contraception.

Last night was too chaotic—we'd taken no precautions. If I got pregnant—I couldn't handle the consequences.

The clerk handed me the pill and reminded me, "Emergency contraception isn't one hundred percent effective. You should get checked at a hospital afterward."

I swallowed the pill silently with water.

Charles hadn't returned yet. The empty house held only me.

Grandma called, asking how Charles and I were getting along. I didn't want to worry her, so I told her I was fine, Charles was treating me well.

But my heart ached.

Past eight in the evening, Charles finally came home.

He'd changed clothes. His hair was damp, like he'd just showered.

Seeing me on the sofa, Charles looked faintly reproachful.

"Honey, why didn't you tell me you got home?" He walked over. "I went all the way back to the estate to pick you up. They said you'd left early."

"You changed clothes," I said, tone flat.

Charles's expression stiffened, then he smiled in explanation. "Oh, I spilled coffee on myself. Had to change."

Another lie.

After all these years together, how could I not see his guilt?

"Honey," he sat beside me, fingers tenderly stroking my arm, "don't do that again. I was worried about you on the road."

I looked at him. I desperately wanted to say, Let's get divorced.

Instead, it came out as, "Charles, I'm planning to go back to work at the company."

"My old position," I continued, "or another position. I don't want to stay home all day with nothing to do."

Divorce was inevitable—just not yet.

This was the second time I'd brought it up today. Charles realized I was serious. His expression changed.

"Willow, you know I don't like you being out there. You don't need to work. I'll take care of you for life." His tone carried undeniable authority.

Take care of you for life. How sweet. How false.

I met his eyes directly. "Why can't I work?"

His voice rose. "The workplace isn't as easy as you think. We're married now. Your most important job is staying home, taking care of yourself, and having our child."

That was his real thought—a wife must stay home, support her husband, raise children.

I stared at him coldly, not backing down. "I don't want to be a full-time housewife."

Charles was impatient. "What's wrong with being a full-time housewife? Which Lancaster woman isn't? And your comfortable life now is a dream countless working women would kill for!"

True. Most Lancaster women were full-time housewives. But full-time housewife didn't mean full-time maid.

They had assets, funds, shares, houses, cars. Any single item was enough to secure an ordinary person's lifetime!

And me?

I'd naively believed love meant trust. I'd foolishly handed over my company shares. Now I didn't have a single asset in my own name.

I stared at him mockingly. "You're so against me working at the company—did you do something to betray me? Are you cheating?"