“My hands are made for killing, not for sewing.”
Stella withdrew, sulking.
A few days later, she dragged Adrian before me to discuss baby names.
“I said Lily sounds lovely, it means purity. But Adrian insists on calling her Grace…”
I went quiet for a moment.
“Sorry. Pick another name.”
They both stared at me in confusion.
I said flatly,
“That was the name Adrian once planned for our child. If you use it now—it will only bring bad luck.”
The room froze. Both of their faces turned ashen.
I ignored them and walked away.
Later, the new maid Mary rushed to me excitedly.
“Miss, I don’t think Adrian really forgot you. He still loves you.”
“Oh? And why do you think that?”
Mary chattered eagerly:
“The other day I passed by his study. I saw him staring at your photo, lost in thought. He must still be thinking of the past.”
I gave a bitter smile and shook my head.
“Don’t ever say that again. He’s about to be a father.”
And I was about to be married.
As the wedding drew near, the Lane Estate buzzed with preparations.
Stella stared in disbelief at the luxurious wedding gifts before her—rows of jewelry boxes, stacks of property deeds.
“These… these are all for me?” she gasped, covering her mouth.