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Before our wedding, my fiancé gave his first love a child.

Novelix Completed

背叛、追妻火葬场、追悔莫及、果断的、未婚夫/妻、大女主、第一人称视角、女性力量/大女主、现代/都市

Chapters (3)

第1章

The Moretti family's speakeasy was hosting a private dinner party, and they were playing Two Truths and a Lie. When it was Elena's turn—Elena, who'd grown up side by side with Dominic—she picked up her whiskey glass and launched right in: "I've slept in Dominic's bed." "I've worn Dominic's underwear." "I'm carrying a Moretti child." Everyone at the long table pointed to the third one as the lie. So did I. After all, I'd been with Dominic for seven years, and he'd always been adamant about not wanting an heir. For him, I'd even let go of my own desire to have children. But Dominic only said: "The second one." The back room went instantly silent. Elena glanced at me, then quickly waved her hands. "Claire, don't get the wrong idea—it was artificial insemination at a private clinic. We absolutely did not sleep together." Dominic followed up just as smoothly. "She doesn't want to get married. She just wanted a child of her own." Elena grinned. "We're allies, after all. Just borrowing a bit of bloodline." I looked at Dominic. So for seven years, when he said he didn't want children, he only meant he didn't want my children. … The back room stayed silent for a good few seconds. Elena carried on as if nothing had happened, picking up her whiskey and taking a sip. "What's with all the faces? We didn't sleep together." Someone finally recovered enough to speak. "Wait—you're actually pregnant with Dominic's child?" "Yep." Elena patted her still-flat stomach. "Just found out yesterday. Two pink lines." She said it like she'd won a scratch-off lottery ticket. Dominic didn't explain either, just leaned back against the leather sofa, not a trace of guilt on his face. Someone held it in for a while before finally asking: "So what's the baby's last name going to be? Moretti or Rossi?" "Rossi, obviously." Elena's answer was decisive. "I'm the one giving birth, I'm the one raising it. It's got nothing to do with Dominic." A family member next to her laughed. "The kid's got Moretti blood and it's got nothing to do with him?" Elena rolled her eyes. "He's just lending a bit of bloodline. It's not like I'm asking him to be my husband." With that, she reached for her drink again. Her hand hadn't even touched the rim before Dominic took the glass away. "You just got pregnant—what are you doing drinking?" "Just one sip." "No." Dominic pushed the soda water over to her. "Did you take your prenatal vitamins today?" Elena clicked her tongue. "Yes, yes, I took them. You're worse than my mother." I sat beside him without saying a word. In seven years, the most Dominic had ever said about children was: "I don't like kids." And I'd always believed he genuinely had no interest. But it turned out he knew pregnant women shouldn't drink. He remembered that prenatal vitamins couldn't be skipped even for a single day. He was even more attentive than Elena herself. Someone still hadn't recovered from the earlier bombshell. "Hold on—what about private hospital registrations and insurance forms and all that? You're handling it alone?" This time Elena laughed outright. She set down her glass, fished two gold-embossed marriage licenses out of her bag, and slapped them on the table. "That's why we went to City Hall today and got our licenses." My mind went blank for a moment. On the gold-embossed cover, the words Marriage License were perfectly clear. Elena had already flipped one open. In the photo, Dominic was seated beside her. The back room erupted. "Holy shit, you two actually got marriage licenses?" "You're really going that far?" Elena waved it off. "It's just to make things easier for the private hospital and insurance paperwork later. Once the baby's born, we dissolve the marriage." She even lifted her chin toward me. "Claire, don't mind it—just lending him to me for a few months. Once the baby arrives, I'll give him right back." I said nothing. Dominic finally turned his face toward me. "That's just how she talks. Don't take it seriously." I asked him: "You went to City Hall and registered?" "Yeah." "When did you decide this?" "A few days ago." He said it like it was the most ordinary thing in the world. Like it was just a minor matter that didn't warrant specifically informing me. Someone finally remembered something and looked at me. "So what about your wedding next month?" Dominic didn't even pause. "Goes ahead as planned." "We'll have the wedding first; the license will just come a bit later." I looked up. Dominic continued: "Once Elena gives birth, we'll get the divorce papers done, and then I'll go to City Hall with you to register." Elena chimed in with a grin. "It's only a few months later. You two have been together seven years—what's a little more time?" Someone at the table cracked a joke, said that worked fine. But I suddenly felt the absurdity of it all. I'd waited seven years and never gotten that marriage license. And Elena just wanted to have a baby, and she got one today. After the party broke up, Dominic drove me home. The entire ride, he didn't bring up what had happened. At my door, he pulled a brown paper envelope from the car. "Perfect timing—the family lawyer finished revising the prenup." He flipped to the page that needed my signature. "Take a look. If everything's fine, sign it." I scanned down the page. One line still stood out starkly: Both parties voluntarily agree not to have children. After marriage, neither biological reproduction nor adoption of any heir shall occur. I looked at the pen. I didn't take it. So he already had a child. And yet he still wanted me to spend a lifetime not having one.

第2章

Dominic pressed the brown paper envelope into my arms. "Take it home and read it carefully. Sign it tomorrow." He finished speaking and glanced down at his phone. Elena had sent a message. [My stomach feels a bit off.] Dominic immediately pulled open the car door. "I'm going to check on her." I stood where I was, unmoving. Seeing that I wasn't speaking, he frowned. "She just got pregnant—it's inherently unstable in the early stages. Don't pick now to throw a tantrum." The car door shut. He left without hesitation. The next day at noon, I went to the Italian restaurant owned by the family to taste-test the wedding banquet menu. When I pushed open the door to the back room, Elena was already seated beside Mrs. Moretti. "Mom, I really can't eat any more." My footsteps halted. Elena was calling Dominic's mother Mom. Mrs. Moretti spotted me, and a flicker of discomfort crossed her face. "You're here? Sit down." Elena caught on too and laughed. "Claire, don't mind it—Mrs. Moretti insists that since the marriage license is done, family rules say I have to change how I address her." Mrs. Moretti pulled a thick white cash envelope from her bag. "Here—a hundred thousand. According to old Moretti family tradition, a welcome gift for family." At our engagement, Mrs. Moretti had held my hand and said: "When you and Dominic go to City Hall to register, I'll prepare ten thousand dollars for you—a gift for the future wife of the family heir." I'd smiled and said that sounded lovely. Now she'd given it to Elena instead—ten times what she'd promised me. Mrs. Moretti saw me staring at the white envelope and her tone cooled slightly. "Elena is currently Dominic's wife on paper. The proper courtesies must be observed." "You haven't been to City Hall to register yet—just call me Mrs. Moretti for now. We mustn't break with protocol." Elena snorted a laugh. "Claire, you're not going to fight me over the family welcome gift, are you?" "Want me to give it to you?" Dominic happened to walk in just then. Mrs. Moretti told him what had happened. He simply pulled out a chair and sat down. "It's just a hundred thousand dollars. Don't make this so embarrassing." Right. The embarrassed one had always been me. The servers began bringing out dishes. The moment the oyster tartare was set down, Dominic spoke. "Take this away. Remove it from the wedding menu too." The banquet manager froze. "Dominic, this was the previously confirmed main course for the reception." "She's pregnant. She can't eat this." Dominic took the menu and crossed out the oyster tartare himself. I finally spoke. "My father specifically chose this dish." At last month's tasting, my father had, for once, said he liked something. Dominic had even said at the time that he'd have an extra serving brought to his table on the wedding day. Now he didn't even look up. "When can Mr. Whitman not eat it?" "Elena is pregnant right now. If something actually goes wrong, who takes responsibility?" Mrs. Moretti also frowned at me. "It's just one dish. Your father isn't going to insist on having it, is he?" Elena bit down on her chopsticks and smiled at me. "Claire, if your father's really craving it that badly, I'll treat him to a whole table of it after I give birth." A few people laughed. I didn't say anything more. Halfway through the tasting, Mrs. Moretti brought up the wedding again. "The wedding proceeds as planned." "When family and friends ask about the City Hall registration, just tell them it's already done. Don't go airing everything—people will laugh." I looked at Dominic. "You want me to tell people we've already registered at City Hall?" He made a sound of agreement. "It's only a few months' delay on the license. What's the difference?" Elena jumped in immediately. "Exactly. I'm just temporarily holding the spot." "The second the baby's born, I'll clear out for you." Mrs. Moretti even scolded her for her phrasing. "What's all this about holding spots? We're all family." Then, as if remembering something else: "Elena, you should move into the Upper East Side apartment for these next few months." I looked up. Mrs. Moretti said it as though it were the most natural thing in the world: "It's closer to the private hospital there. Makes it easier for Dominic to look after her." "You two haven't had the wedding yet anyway. The place is just sitting empty." I looked at Dominic. But he was already looking at Elena: "The first trimester is when things are most likely to go wrong. I'll stay there—that way I can help if anything comes up." I gripped the glass in my hand. That Upper East Side apartment—from the renovation to the furniture—I'd spent the better part of a year putting it together, piece by piece. I hadn't even spent a single night there yet. And they'd already arranged it for another woman. Mrs. Moretti saw my expression and her face hardened. "She's carrying Moretti blood. You'll be Dominic's wife soon enough. Can't you show even this much generosity?" At eight that evening, I'd just gotten home when my phone lit up with a security system notification. [Administrator "Dominic" has granted access to new member.] [Member name: Elena.]

第3章

I was done fighting. The security notification lingered on my screen for a few seconds before disappearing. I stared at the name "Elena," then went straight to the Upper East Side apartment. The door opened to a living room stacked with four or five suitcases. Elena was padding out of the master suite barefoot. "Claire's here?" She pointed at the boxes on the floor. "Give me a hand? I can't lift heavy things right now." I didn't move. But someone was still going in and out of the master suite. A cleaning woman came out carrying a box, startled when she saw me, then turned to ask Elena: "Mrs. Elena, shall I put all these maternity supplies in the master bathroom?" Elena answered easily. "Go ahead." I looked at Dominic. He was adjusting the room's climate control system for her. From start to finish, he never corrected that "Mrs. Elena." I walked into the master suite. The engagement photo that Dominic and I had chosen together just last month—the one on the bedside table—was gone. Only two nail holes remained on the wall. "Where's the photo?" Elena poked her head in from behind. "I had someone put it away." "Opening my eyes at night to your two giant faces staring at me—how creepy would that be?" She laughed at her own joke. Dominic only glanced at her. "Quit being ridiculous." I opened the closet door. My silk robes and the formal dresses I'd prepared to wear after the wedding had all been shoved to the very back. The other half was already crammed with Elena's things. Even my toiletries from the bathroom had been packed into a cardboard box and placed by the door. Elena pointed at it. "Claire, your perfume and body wash are too strong. I smell anything fragrant right now and I want to throw up." "You haven't moved in yet anyway, so I had them put away." Dominic's response was even more seamless. "Once she gives birth, we'll put everything back." I looked at him. "Why is she in the master suite?" "The guest room doesn't have an en suite bathroom." Dominic frowned slightly, as if answering a completely unnecessary question. "She's a pregnant woman. Running back and forth isn't convenient." I looked at Elena's stomach, which wasn't even showing yet. "And after the wedding? Where do I sleep?" Elena was unwrapping her own pillow, not even looking up. "The guest room, obviously." She laughed. "Claire, you're not going to fight a pregnant woman for the master suite, are you?" Dominic didn't laugh, but what he said was worse than anything Elena had said. "It's just a few months." "You're perfectly healthy. What does it matter where you sleep?" I stood beside the bed we'd picked out together, watching my things being carried out one by one. Next month, I would walk down the aisle in a wedding dress and marry Dominic. The reception would go ahead as planned. The guests would all be invited. Everyone would call me the bride. But the marriage license bore Elena's name. The master suite of the Upper East Side apartment belonged to Elena. Even on my wedding night, when I came home, I'd be sleeping in the guest room. Elena suddenly remembered something and dug a deep blue velvet jewelry box out of her suitcase. "Oh, right." She opened it to show me. Inside was a pair of Moretti family heirloom emerald rings. I recognized them. On the day of our engagement, Mrs. Moretti had slipped one onto my wrist to see how it looked. She'd said: "This was left by Dominic's grandmother. When you officially become the mistress of the Moretti household, it'll be yours." Elena slid the bracelet onto her own wrist. "Mrs. Moretti said since I'm carrying the baby, she's giving it to me first—to bless the family's fortune." She shook her wrist. "Pretty heavy." I looked at Dominic. He only said: "She's just wearing it for a few months." "It'll still be yours eventually." In that moment, I suddenly couldn't even muster the will to argue. The marriage license could be lent out. The Upper East Side apartment could be lent out. The heirloom ring meant for the family's mistress could be lent out. Even the husband—he could be lent to Elena for a few months first. Every indignity they couldn't bear to let Elena suffer, they made me suffer instead. When I got home, I sent a message to the family corporation's executive vice president. [That European port project you mentioned—has the lead been assigned yet?] The reply came quickly. [Not yet. Why the sudden interest?] I typed a single line. [I want to go.] The other end paused for a few seconds. [Isn't your wedding next month?] I stared at that sentence and deleted the explanation I'd originally typed out. [It won't affect the project.] Soon, the reply came: [Done.] [Once you've got things arranged on your end, head over directly.]