Seven years later

My sister gave birth, then skipped the country. So I took the baby she’d abandoned, walked into the lion’s den, and claimed I was the woman who’d spent one-night with the Thorne family heir. And it worked. I parlayed a baby into a life of luxury, becoming the new Mrs. Thorne. Seven years later, my sister came back. She wrapped the boy in a gentle hug, looked at me, and smiled. “You’ve been playing my part long enough,” she said. “It’s time to give it back.” I was quiet for a long time. Then I agreed, with only one condition. “Give me enough money to disappear,” I told her. “Wait until I’m settled somewhere far away before you tell everyone the truth.” Because if Julian Thorne, with his infamous temper and long memory, found out I’d deceived him for seven years… well, he wouldn’t just divorce me. He’d destroy me. 1 “Mom.” Leo was standing at the door, his little backpack slung over his shoulder. “Hey, sweetie.” I smiled and walked over, ruffling his hair. “Tough day at school?” “There was a lady,” he said, his eyes full of uncertainty. “She said she was your sister.” I froze. It took me a second to find my voice. “She looked a little like you,” Leo said, grabbing my hand. “But when I called her ‘auntie,’ she got weird. She said she wasn’t my aunt.” My fingers trembled. “What else did she say?” My voice was a dry rasp. “She told me to tell you I saw her,” he answered dutifully. “And that you’d know how to get in touch.” I leaned against the wall, the world tilting under my feet. Seven years ago. Isabelle had just given birth to Leo and was dead set on leaving. Without the baby. I’d tried to stop her. “You haven’t even recovered from childbirth… Why don’t you just take the baby to the Thornes? He’s their flesh and blood, they won’t turn you away.” Isabelle’s voice cracked. “They never even wanted this baby! I kept him a secret. Do you think they’d ever respect me? Ever let me through the door? The best I could hope for is they take the baby and kick me to the curb!” I didn't know what to say. “So, what about him?” Her face was stone. “He’ll just hold me back if I take him abroad. Just… leave him on the steps of an orphanage or something.” And then she was gone. On a cold winter day, she left me, and she left her son. I was so broke back then, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t abandon this tiny, wrinkled little person. So I bundled him up, took a bus to the richest part of town, and walked up to the gates of the Thorne estate. I ignored the looks I got—the suspicion, the contempt, the pity. I just said, “I need to see Julian Thorne. I’ve had his child.” It didn’t happen the way Isabelle predicted. They didn’t throw me out. In fact, they invited me in. A DNA test was ordered before I could even sit down. When Julian Thorne finally got home, his mother, the family matriarch, announced coolly, “It seems the Thorne family has an heir.” The man was tall and lean, radiating an unnerving stillness. He gave me a single, dismissive glance. I immediately looked down, my heart pounding. My whole plan was based on one detail Isabelle had told me: it was dark. She and Julian had been in a dark room. He’d never gotten a clear look at her face. But now, with this intensely intimidating man standing right in front of me, I felt my confidence shrivel. I was sure he’d see right through me. Thankfully, Julian didn’t say a word. He didn’t even look at the baby. His mother cleared her throat. “This young woman went through a lot, carrying this child for nine months…” “I’ll marry her,” Julian cut in. The room went silent. I stared at him, dumbfounded. My only plan was to make sure the baby was safe with his real family. I hadn’t thought for a second about what would happen to me. The silence stretched on. Julian’s gaze finally landed on my face, cool and unreadable. “I made the mess,” he said. “I’ll clean it up.” His mother considered this for a moment, rubbing her temples. “Fine. Do what you want. Start planning the wedding.” In that moment, I clutched the fabric of my cheap dress so hard my knuckles turned white. I had no idea what his angle was. He could have any woman he wanted. There was a line of socialites in this city who would kill to be Leo’s stepmother. But he chose me, a woman who supposedly hid his child from him for nine months. Was it for the baby? To give him a complete family? I couldn’t know. But I was just a poor, unlucky girl, and the chance to marry into a world of unbelievable wealth was staring me in the face. I couldn’t turn it down. Besides, the baby was my nephew, my own blood. So, I lifted my chin and met Julian’s gaze with a small, determined smile. “I’ll be a good wife,” I promised. “And a good mother.” And just like that, a lie was born. And it lasted for seven years. 2 “You’re a million miles away.” Julian’s arm was around my waist. He tilted his head, his expression calm and observant. I snapped back to reality, leaning into him. “I was just thinking about Leo,” I murmured. “He’s lost a little weight. He’s going to waste away if he gets any thinner.” Julian frowned, a cool edge to his voice. “You spend too much time focused on him.” With that, he tipped my chin up and kissed me, a possessive move that left no room for argument. He didn’t stop until I was breathless. Then, he pulled me onto his lap. He looked down at me, his eyes sharp. “You’ve got something on your mind.” His perceptiveness always terrified me. But I had my defenses ready. I went back to my usual script. “Leo’s teacher told me he’s having a hard time making friends at school. Do you think… maybe we should find a child psychologist? I’m worried he’s…” “Ava,” Julian cut me off, his eyes dark pools. “You need to get a life of your own.” I paused, then sighed. “Okay.” I sat there on his lap, watching his long fingers fly across the keyboard as he worked. He didn't press the issue, and I’d dodged another bullet. But Isabelle was back. There was no dodging that. All she had to do was show the Thornes a DNA test proving she was Leo’s mother, and my entire world would shatter. I, the impostor, would be exposed. Days had passed, and I still hadn’t contacted her. I twisted my fingers in my lap, taking a deep breath, then letting it out. In, out. In, out. Julian finally slammed his laptop shut, his patience gone. He narrowed his eyes. “Forget about Leo for a minute. You should be more worried about yourself.” The moment his hand slid up under my nightgown, my mind went clear. I tried to push him away. “Wait, wait, I just remembered I have to—I have to bake something for Leo…” He caught both my wrists with one hand, pinning them above my head. Then he used his other hand to pull the hem of my nightgown up, motioning for me to bite down on the fabric. He smirked. “Too many words, sweetheart.” I glared at him, my protests muffled. He held my hips, his voice a low rumble. “Just like that. It’s cute.” 3 I don’t know how much time passed. I was sprawled on the couch, feeling like a wrung-out dishrag. Julian was already dressed, looking as cool and pristine as ever. He leaned down and kissed my forehead. “I’m heading to the office. Don’t wait up for dinner.” I nodded, too tired to speak. My relationship with Julian was strange. It was more than a marriage of convenience—there were moments of sweetness, of intimacy—but it was far from a passionate love affair. He rarely ate dinner at home and almost never asked about Leo. The only warmth between us seemed reserved for moments like these. And even then, it was fleeting. Outside of the bedroom, we didn’t have much to talk about. I was dozing on the sofa in the master bedroom when I heard the front door open downstairs. Leo was home from school. I slipped on my slippers and went downstairs. “Leo? How come you’re so late to—” My voice died in my throat. Isabelle was standing in the doorway, holding Leo’s hand. My lips moved, but no sound came out. Finally, I managed one word: “Isabelle.” Leo beamed at me. “Mom, she took me to the amusement park after school!” I forced a smile and walked toward him, crouching down to squeeze his cheek. “Was the housekeeper with you? And the driver?” He nodded. “Okay, good,” I said, my voice strained. “But next time, please have them call me first, okay?” Leo nodded again. “I have to say,” Isabelle said suddenly, her voice cool. “You’re surprisingly good at this whole mom thing.” I looked up at her. She hadn’t changed much in seven years. She wore a stylish trench coat and carried a designer bag, looking a world away from the desperate woman who’d fled the city all those years ago. I didn’t answer. She pulled Leo into a gentle hug, then looked at me. “You’ve been playing my part long enough,” she said. “It’s time to give it back.” Her tone was soft enough that Leo didn’t notice anything was wrong. He just blinked, confused. “What part?” I flinched, my fists clenching at my sides. Isabelle leaned in, her voice a whisper only I could hear. “We’re sisters. I’m not going to make a scene about you impersonating me and stealing my life. But if you try to fight me on this, you have no chance of winning.” She straightened up, patting Leo’s shoulder and giving me a tight smile. “Leo,” I said, my voice hoarse. “Did you have fun today?” Leo’s personality was a lot like Julian’s—quiet and reserved. But for once, he had a little smile on his face. He glanced up at Isabelle. “Yeah.” “So…” I struggled to get the words out. “The parent-teacher conference is the day after tomorrow. If… if both of us could go, who would you want to go with you?” He paused. Then, hesitantly, he reached out and took Isabelle’s hand. I was silent for a long time. Then I patted his back. “Go on up to your room and start your homework, okay?” After Leo was gone, Isabelle and I just stood there, staring at each other. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “I’ll leave. Just give me enough money to get settled somewhere far away. Once I’m gone for good, you can tell them the truth.” Otherwise, knowing Julian’s vengeful nature… he would destroy me for lying to him for seven years. Isabelle frowned. “How much?” “I raised your son for seven years,” I said, taking a step back. “A million dollars.” She scoffed. “And here I was almost feeling sorry for you. Selling a child for cash. Classy.” I just stared at her. After a few tense minutes, she said, “Fine. But I only have two hundred thousand right now. It’s enough to get you started. I’ll send you the rest after everything is settled.” “Okay,” I whispered. 4 That night, Julian texted me: *Not coming home tonight.* *Okay, honey,* I typed back, short and sweet. He replied a second later: *?* I stared at the question mark. Usually, when he told me he wasn’t coming home, I’d lay on the "good wife" act. *Don’t work too hard, darling. I’ll be waiting up for you. Will you be home tomorrow?* That kind of thing. But my contract as the perfect wife and mother was about to expire. I was done pretending. I stretched and started packing. As I started filling suitcases, I realized I didn’t want to leave anything behind. The clothes, the jewelry, the bags… they were all precious to me. I had five large trunks sent up to the room. I got so lost in the process that I didn’t even notice when Julian opened the door and leaned against the frame, watching me. It wasn’t until all five trunks were packed and I was stretching my aching back that I looked up and met his deep, unreadable eyes. I froze. “Uh… hi, honey. Good evening. I thought you weren’t coming home?” A slow, terrifying smile spread across his lips. “If I hadn’t, where were you planning on going?” “Oh!” I forced a laugh. “I’ve just been so worried about Leo lately, I haven’t been sleeping well. I decided I needed to get away for a little while, clear my head…” Julian just stared at me for a long moment. But then, unexpectedly, he didn’t press me. He just nodded. “Fine.” I bit my lip. “While I’m gone, you should spend more time with Leo. He’s so quiet, and you two barely talk. And tell the kitchen to make him more steak, he’s a growing boy…” “Ava,” Julian cut me off, a hint of impatience in his voice. “Even without you here, nobody in this house is going to let him starve.” I faltered. “…Right.” There were other things I wanted to say. That I’d been happy here. That his mother had always been kind to me, and that Leo was a wonderful kid. And that I would miss Julian. But I wasn’t the woman he’d slept with that night. And I certainly wasn’t Leo’s mother. I’d had seven years of playing house in a billionaire’s mansion. It was more than I ever deserved. But why… why did it still hurt so much? Julian turned to leave. “Stay away for a while,” he said, his voice flat. “Don’t rush back.” He walked toward his study without a backward glance. My fingers curled into fists. “Okay,” I whispered. 5 The flight was over fourteen hours. The moment I landed and turned on my phone, I got a picture from Isabelle. Leo was sitting next to her, drawing quietly. In the picture he was drawing, a woman with long, wavy hair was holding a cup of coffee. It was Isabelle. I stared at it for a long time. It made sense, I guess. The bond between a mother and child is primal. It was only natural they’d be drawn to each other. *I wish you both happiness,* I texted back. I meant it. Her reply came instantly: *You did a mediocre job raising him.* I wanted to defend myself, to tell her that I had poured my entire soul into being Leo’s mother and Julian’s wife. But I knew she would just see it as an attack. So I deleted my angry response and simply wrote: *Well, he has you now. You can make up for all my mistakes.* She didn’t reply. I settled in a small town on the coast of Portugal. I didn’t know a soul and had to rely on a translation app to get by, but the scenery was as beautiful as a postcard. A few days later, a text came from Julian. *Leo really likes one of his new tutors. I’ve asked her to stay on.* *A live-in tutor?* I asked. *Yes.* I typed: *Okay.* I didn’t need to ask who it was. And it was for the best. It would give them a chance to bond. Isabelle, whose social media had been dormant for years, suddenly started posting pictures of Leo. In them, the little boy would even offer the camera a shy smile. I’d always just thought he was a serious kid. I turned off my phone. For the first few days, I was completely lost. For seven years, my life had revolved around Julian and Leo. I had no time for myself. Suddenly faced with endless free time, I didn't know what to do other than study the local language. Slowly, methodically, I deleted every picture of Leo from my phone. I forwarded all the contact information for his school and his teachers to Isabelle. Then, I saw it on a gossip site. A picture of Julian and Isabelle walking together, looking very much like a couple. The headline speculated about the chic magazine editor who had captured the elusive billionaire’s attention. Isabelle, it turned out, had become quite successful abroad. The fashion world was buzzing, calling them a “power couple.” I blinked slowly. My chest felt hollow. Of course they were a power couple. They even had a child together. 6 The day the rest of the money hit my account, I moved fast. I logged out of all my social media accounts, deleted them, and swapped the SIM card in my phone for a new one I’d bought weeks ago. Sure enough, just a few hours after the wire transfer went through, the news broke. #ThorneHeir’sRealMotherRevealed was trending everywhere. But by then, no one could reach me. The money was already in a new, untraceable account. I pushed down the complicated knot of feelings in my stomach and took a bite of a warm pastry. The divorce papers I’d signed and left in my bedside table had surely been delivered to Julian by now. From now on, the world was wide open. And I was no longer Mrs. Thorne.

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