Chapter 1: Growing Suspicions

"Why have you been coming home so late recently?" asked the beautiful woman, her rounded belly doing nothing to diminish the curves that filled her silk robe.

"Sorry, sweetheart — I'm swamped at work. Back-to-back meetings with new investors." Glenn loosened his tie without looking at her, unbuttoning his shirt as he walked toward the bathroom.

Anaya Almera Galenka. For the past year she had quietly buried the most powerful surname in the country's business world and replaced it with her husband's. She was tall, long-waisted, five months pregnant — and thoroughly in love. Or so she had believed.

Glenn Pradipa was nothing special on paper. A senior from her university days, a man from ordinary means who had drifted through life on charm. After the wedding, Anaya had promoted him to CEO of the company she had built from scratch, because the pregnancy left her too nauseated to stand in a boardroom. Glenn had accepted without a moment's hesitation.

He emerged from the shower wrapped in a bathrobe, damp hair dripping, soap-fresh and infuriatingly attractive. For five months — since the day she announced the pregnancy — he hadn't touched her. His reason: he didn't want to harm the baby. Tonight, for no reason she could clearly name, Anaya wanted him more than she had in months.

"Glenn..." Her voice was softer than she intended. "It's been a long time. Don't you miss me? Don't you still...want me?"

She almost never asked. She prided herself on never begging. But something about tonight made her reach out and pull at his bathrobe.

He caught her hand. "I'm exhausted, Ana. I'm just going to sleep."

Her heart dropped.

He didn't even say 'sweetheart.' The little omission rang louder than anything else. And he's turning me away? Because I'm pregnant?

She wasn't the kind of woman who accepted no. She stripped off her nightgown, climbed over him, and positioned herself above him. She took him in her hands and worked him slowly until his body betrayed him before his willpower could.

The groan that escaped him was involuntary.

"Still saying no?" she murmured, moving.

"Why are you still so—" He couldn't finish the sentence coherently. "You're pregnant."

"I kept myself just for you." She rocked against him. "Five months without a single touch from you. So — do you feel how much I missed you?"

He was too far gone to notice when she unknotted the belt of his bathrobe and pushed it open.

She froze.

His chest. Covered in marks. Love bites — a constellation of them across his collarbone and ribs.

She hadn't put a single one there.

The heat drained out of her in an instant. She lifted off him, pulled away from where he was still hard and wanting, pressed one hand against her belly, and walked into the bathroom without a word.

"Ana — hey — you can't just — I haven't—" He sat up, flushed and frustrated. "Come on, I didn't even finish—"

The shower turned on. He listened to the water run and told himself she probably had a cramp.

He finished alone. It took a while.

"Serves you right," he muttered at nothing in particular. "You push and push until you get what you want, and then you just walk off—"

He was still talking when she came out of the bathroom, her face composed, eyes dry, expression so neutral it was almost worse than tears.

"Why did you just leave?" His voice had an edge to it now — a look in his eyes she had never seen directed at her before tonight. Sharp. Almost contemptuous. "Because of you, I had to handle that myself."

"I'm sorry. Cramps." She climbed into bed, pulling the blanket up. "Good night."

"You're pregnant, not an invalid. You wanted it — then you run. And then you act..." He gestured vaguely. "Cheap."

The word landed.

She smiled. A small, thin, bitter smile that he completely misread.

"You're right," she said. "I won't ask again. I don't want to be called cheap."

He realized immediately he'd gone too far. "No — that's not what I meant — I misspoke—"

"It's fine. Sleep. You must be tired from working all day."

She turned to face the wall, tucked the blanket under her chin, and closed her eyes.

I'll find out the truth, Glenn.

Morning arrived the same as every other morning, which is to say Anaya was already in the kitchen. The house was enormous — a proper mansion, really, with multiple wings and a garden — and she had never once asked the housekeeper to cook for her husband's family. She believed in earning love through service. She had believed that for a year now.

She was an orphan. Had been since she was fifteen. Marrying Glenn had given her something she'd been chasing for a long time: a family. A mother-in-law. A sister-in-law. A younger brother. She set a full breakfast spread every morning for all of them without being asked.

Footsteps in the hall.

"Is it ready?" Amber Sari, Glenn's mother, appeared in the dining room doorway.

"Yes, Mom. Please sit down." Anaya's smile was the same warm, practiced thing it always was.

Gina Evorya followed — Glenn's older sister, thirty years old, married for five years to Adrian Ezra and still childless. Adrian was supposedly a mechanic at some auto shop. They had never been able to afford their own place, so they lived here, courtesy of Anaya's mortgage.

Then Glenn, and behind him Gavin — Glenn's youngest brother, seventeen, in his final year of high school.

"Sit down, everyone. Anaya, eat later." Amber settled into her chair. "You're the only unemployed one at this table. Plenty of time to feed yourself after the rest of us are done."

Anaya let it pass. "Glenn — I have a prenatal appointment today. Could you come with me?"

This was the fifth month. He hadn't attended a single one.

"Go by yourself," Amber said before Glenn could answer. "He runs a company. He's busy. Don't be demanding."

"It's my company, Mom." Anaya said it quietly. "I'm only staying home because I'm pregnant."

Amber's expression flickered. She recovered: "What I mean is that because Glenn is filling in for you, he has to carry all the responsibilities that would normally be yours. That's all."

"Of course." Anaya stood. "None of you would betray my trust. Eat while it's hot — I'm going to start the laundry."

She walked out before anyone could respond.

A moment later Adrian pushed his chair back. "I'm heading to work."

"Off to work every single day," Gina muttered, "and never brings home a decent paycheck."

"Adrian, did you hear your wife?" Amber called after him.

No answer. He was already gone.

"Mom, can I have my allowance?" Gavin asked. "You said Anaya set one aside for me."

"Ask her yourself. I don't have it."

"You always hold it." He grinned. "Don't be greedy. I'll tell her."

"Here." Glenn passed him a few bills without looking up. "Now stop arguing."

"Thanks. I'm off." Gavin grabbed his bag and disappeared.

Three people remained at the table.

"Glenn." Gina set down her fork. "When are you going to marry my best friend? She's pregnant, you know."

Glenn shot her a look. "Not here."

"Why are you worried about your wife finding out? That's the whole point — you wouldn't have to hide anymore. I won't have you playing with Zara Adele's feelings. She's from a respectable family. People finding out she got pregnant outside of marriage would be a scandal."

"What do you want me to do?" Glenn dragged a hand through his hair. "Ana is pregnant too. I've been neglecting her already. All my time is going to Zara — and she's only two months along, she needs attention."

"I don't want to hear excuses. Marry Zara. The sooner the better. Her family's business connections will strengthen your position."

Amber leaned forward. "I agree. Zara is more elegant, more stylish — even while pregnant she keeps herself looking polished. Not like Anaya, who barely leaves her bed. You should be proud to have a personal secretary like Zara."

"And she doesn't mope around complaining about nausea," Gina added. "She's still doing her job at the company."

"Fine." Glenn glanced at the doorway, then lowered his voice. "One month. That's the timeline. But not yet — I still haven't managed to transfer the company ownership or the house title into my name. We need to be patient. Mom — especially you — be careful. Don't let anything slip."

None of them noticed the figure standing just beyond the doorway.

Anaya had come back to retrieve a dish towel she'd forgotten. She stood very still and listened to every word.

When it was over, she walked to the laundry room, turned on the machine, and pressed both hands flat against the washing machine lid.

All right. I'll play your game.

Let's see who wins.

Chapter 2: Anaya Meets Her Best Friend

She wiped her eyes at the laundry machine, twice, because tears kept coming back. She had returned to the laundry room so none of them would see.

Glenn. The man I've been in love with since I was nineteen.

She pressed her lips together and let herself feel it for exactly thirty seconds — the humiliation, the shock, the sick twist in her chest — and then she straightened up.

"I am Anaya Almera Galenka," she said quietly, to the washing machine. "My parents are gone but I am still a Galenka. The Galenka name built half this country's commerce. You do not cry over cheating men, Anaya. You get up. You stand straight." She pressed one hand to her belly. "Remember who's counting on you."

She exhaled.

"All right. Let's start the game. But first — the OB-GYN. Because whatever your father is, I still love you." She smoothed her hand across the swell of her stomach, which had taken on the impressive roundness of a ripe melon.

The house was empty by the time she hung the last of the laundry. Everyone had scattered to wherever they went during the day.

She went upstairs, changed into a floral mini dress — pastel, off-shoulder, above the knee — and considered herself in the mirror. Her stomach made the dress work in ways the designer hadn't intended, but she wasn't self-conscious. She was twenty-three years old, taller than most women she knew, and she owned three cars outright, all registered in her name alone.

"Beautiful and worth a fortune," she told her reflection. "And apparently that wasn't enough to make you faithful."

She drove herself to the International Women's and Children's Hospital — the best OB-GYN in the city, where she'd been coming since she first confirmed the pregnancy. She checked in, rounded the corner toward the maternity ward—

And stopped.

Glenn was there.

He had one arm around a woman. Office clothes, tight blouse, professional pencil skirt. His hand was at her waist, thumb pressing into the fabric.

Her heart didn't break. Something stranger happened — it went very, very still.

So this is how far it's gone. You drove your pregnant mistress to her prenatal checkup while your pregnant wife took a cab.

She didn't cry. She found a chair behind a large potted fern and sat down.

That's Zara Adele. Gina's best friend. The widow. The one who's been coming around the house for months with her sad eyes and her long legs, claiming she needed company while she grieved.

She already knew the stomach was visible under Zara's blazer. The swell was small but unmistakable. Two months, maybe.

Is that Glenn's?

She already knew the answer.

She pulled out her phone, propped it against her purse, framed the angle carefully, and waited. Thirty minutes. Glenn and Zara emerged from the examination room together — he had his hand in the small of her back — and Anaya filmed all of it from behind her fern.

So you want to play games with a Galenka. Interesting choice.

She put her phone away, walked to the front desk, and smiled at the receptionist. Her name was called two minutes later.

After her appointment, she drove to the beauty salon.

"Well, well, well." Rachel Anjani looked up from behind the reception counter. "What does Mrs. Pradipa want with my humble establishment?"

The moment Rachel said it — that name, that stupid name she'd taken on voluntarily — Anaya's face crumpled.

She hadn't meant to. She'd been holding it together all morning.

"I need to talk," she managed. "I can't breathe."

Rachel came around the counter instantly. "God — Anaya, you're actually crying. Come on, back office, now — I don't need the whole salon seeing this."

She pushed a box of tissues across her desk and very gently rubbed her hand over the enormous belly.

"This thing is huge. How far along are you?"

"Five months." Anaya blew her nose. "The doctor says the baby is measuring large. Too much amniotic fluid. I look like I'm having twins."

"You really do. Seven months, easy. Does it hurt?"

"It's heavy. Sometimes I can't take a deep breath." She set the tissue box aside. "When are you getting married, Rachel?"

"Me?" Rachel waved a hand. "We're twenty-three. You should still be enjoying being single. You were the one who was so determined to—" She gestured at the belly. "Well. Here we are."

Anaya laughed. Which was something, at least. Then the laugh went wrong and she was crying again.

"Tell me what happened," Rachel said, quiet now.

Anaya handed her the phone.

Rachel looked at her, looked at the phone, and opened the photo gallery. She scrolled. She stopped. Her hand tightened slowly into a fist.

Anaya took the phone back — she couldn't stand to hear Glenn's voice coming out of her own speaker — and pressed it face-down on the desk.

"Help me file for divorce. As fast as possible. You heard it yourself — one month. He's going to marry Zara in one month. I want to be there when he does. I want to show up."

Rachel was already reaching for her own phone. "I'm calling Vance. He'll drop everything."

"Are you two..." Anaya looked at her.

Rachel's cheeks went red. She nodded.

"I knew it. Since university — the whole cat-and-mouse thing. He chased, you played hard to get." Anaya wiped her eyes. "So why aren't you married yet?"

"We're engaged, actually—"

"You're engaged? You didn't invite me?"

"You were in the hospital! You had that terrible dehydration from the morning sickness. I told Glenn — I told him to pass it along, I thought he would—"

"Five months ago?"

"About that. Why?"

"Did you tell him at the hospital or at home?"

Rachel thought back. "At home. I was surprised, actually — Zara was there already, opening the door like it was her house. Glenn had his hand around her waist but he let go when he saw me."

Silence.

"So they've been at it since the beginning," Anaya said. "Our marriage was seven months old."

"Don't cry. Vance is almost here, I already texted." Rachel pulled her into a side hug. "But listen — the house and the company both have security cameras, you said?"

"They think the only cameras are the front door and the lobby at work." Anaya straightened. "Before we got married I had miniature cameras installed in a dozen places. I know they don't know about them."

"Good. We'll pull the footage." Rachel's phone buzzed. "See? There he is. Give me two seconds."

She came back with Vance Anggara on her arm — tall, dark-suited, already scanning the room with a lawyer's measuring eye.

"You remember Anaya," Rachel said. "She needs a divorce."

Vance sat across from her. "Why do you want a divorce? You used to chase that man everywhere." He glanced at her belly. "Doesn't seem like the best timing."

Rachel's palm connected with his forearm at speed.

"Ow—"

"Stop being a lawyer and start being a human being. This is her problem, not a deposition."

"All right. Sorry." He straightened his jacket. "Tell me what happened. Start from the beginning. Evidence?"

Anaya laid it out: the conversation she'd overheard at breakfast, the hospital footage she'd filmed that morning, the marks on Glenn's chest she'd discovered the night before. She walked Vance through all of it, then handed him the phone.

"Can you have the divorce filed in less than thirty days?"

"I also need help recovering the company," she added. "I want them to understand what their actual position is in my life."

"Slow down for now," Vance said. "While we're gathering evidence, you play innocent. Hold it together, don't tip your hand. If Glenn suspects you know, he'll make the divorce messy."

"Can you pull the hidden CCTV footage?" Rachel asked him.

"I'll send someone to both locations tomorrow — posing as maintenance. They won't need to go near anything that looks suspicious. Three days and we'll have the full record."

Anaya nodded slowly. "I want to sell the cars. All three. But quietly — no alarm bells."

"Doable." Vance thought for a moment. "Tell them it's a fleet upgrade. Cars due for replacement. When did you buy them?"

"Before the wedding. All three are registered to me personally."

Chapter 3: Selling Two Cars

"Only two years old, then?" Vance didn't look convinced.

"No — Amber's car is the old family car, from before my parents died. Glenn's been using the one I drove in college. I'm the one in the brand-new one — bought it a year ago, before the wedding. And I bought Gavin a motorcycle for school."

Rachel's eyes filled without warning. "You gave them everything."

"Hey." Vance pulled her against his side. "I am nothing like Glenn. I am constitutionally incapable of doing what he did. I have been faithful since birth."

"You'd better be," Rachel said, muffled against his shoulder. "Or I will personally remove the relevant anatomy."

That afternoon, Anaya drove home with a smile on her face. Bitter, yes. But she was standing.

"Where have you been?" Gina met her at the door, arms folded. "There's nothing to eat for lunch."

"I was at the hospital. Then I stopped by a salon."

"So you were out enjoying yourself while we sat here starving."

Anaya tilted her head. "Starving? You're standing right in front of me, perfectly alive, last I checked. If you're hungry — there's a full refrigerator. Cook something." She walked past them both. "The kitchen is at the end of the hall. I'm sure you can find it."

She left Gina and Amber standing there with their mouths open.

"What is wrong with her?" Gina muttered. "She's never talked like that before."

"No idea," Amber said, recovering. "Come on, make something — I worked up an appetite shopping this morning." She lowered her voice. "I have to say, since Glenn married that girl our lives have been transformed. We used to eat lentils and rice every day. Now look at us." A small satisfied sigh. "Lucky for us she's too naive to notice what's happening to her money."

"Not for much longer." Anaya said it from the other side of the wall, her voice perfectly pleasant, and kept walking. "Because tomorrow morning I'm canceling every card I gave you."

Silence from the dining room.

She let them sit with that and went upstairs.

It was two in the afternoon. Glenn wouldn't be home for hours. Anaya showered, changed, and spread everything across the bed: vehicle titles, property certificates, share documents, blank land deeds, the company's official paperwork.

She checked every single document. Names, dates, seals, signatures. Nothing had been altered. Everything was still in her name.

She exhaled slowly.

They haven't moved yet. Good. They're waiting until after the wedding.

She called Rachel.

"Come to the house at three. If someone else answers the door, say you're picking up a phone you left behind. Bring a big bag — I'm handing you all my important documents to take to Vance's office. Have him verify everything is legally sound. I want this done fast."

Rachel arrived at exactly three o'clock, polished and deliberately glamorous.

Gina answered the door. Scanned her head to toe. "What do you want?"

"Is Anaya home? I'm her friend."

"Her room's upstairs." Gina turned her back and walked away.

Rachel climbed the stairs and knocked softly.

The door opened from inside.

"Get in here." Anaya had already assembled everything. "You don't need to stay long — we can't let them get suspicious."

"Got it." Rachel opened the tote bag she'd brought.

Anaya transferred the entire stack of documents into it. "Tell Vance to move. Before they notice anything is missing."

"Relax. Everything is under control." Rachel squeezed her hand. "No matter what happens — the baby isn't responsible for any of this. Don't neglect yourself. And call us. You are not alone in this."

"Thank you. Now go. Make up something convincing if they ask."

"Convincing is my specialty."

She was halfway down the stairs when two shadows detached from the hallway wall. Amber and Gina. Standing in the corridor like they'd been waiting.

"Oh!" Rachel manufactured mild surprise beautifully. "Were you about to knock? I just came to pick up a phone I accidentally left here last time. All sorted now." She waved the tote bag at them. "My fiancé is coming over tonight so I need to run — sorry, ladies, lovely to see you—"

She was out the front door before either of them could form a question.

They are actually terrifying, Rachel thought, walking quickly to her car. How has Anaya lived in that house for a year.

Upstairs, Anaya had changed into a satin slip — curve-conscious, deliberately eye-catching. She walked downstairs.

"That's what you're wearing?" Gina's lip curled. "In this house?"

"I was going to cook dinner." Anaya smoothed the fabric over her belly. "Is there a dress code in my own kitchen?"

"Anaya," Amber said, "you should put on something more appropriate. Glenn and Gavin will be home soon."

"That's fine with me. We're family." She turned to Gina with the blandest expression possible. "Gina — honestly, my body still looks good, doesn't it? Even pregnant. I make sure to keep up with my exercise. Glenn keeps telling me he couldn't imagine looking at anyone else."

Gina said nothing. She didn't need to. Anaya had already catalogued the things Glenn's sister spent freely on — designer bags, shoes, clothes — and the things she did not. A gym membership. Skincare. Anything that might put Adrian's attention back where it belonged. Anaya had never once seen the two of them exchange a single warm glance.

Not her problem anymore.

Morning. The far side of the bed was cold and smooth and completely undisturbed. Glenn hadn't come home.

She made herself one plate of fried rice with shrimp and chili and sat down to eat it at the kitchen table.

"That's all?" Amber appeared in the doorway. "Just fried rice? One bowl?"

"I'm feeling weak today. I could only manage for one." Anaya kept eating. "Glenn didn't come home last night, so I'm not exactly feeling motivated to cook for everyone. There's food in the refrigerator — help yourself." She looked up pleasantly. "Do you know where he went? He didn't call me."

Amber's mouth worked silently for a moment. She knew perfectly well — Glenn had messaged to say he was with Zara, who was being needy about the pregnancy. Amber approved. Zara was an asset.

"Oh — Mom." Anaya pushed back from the table. "I need the car keys. I'm selling the cars today."

"What?" Amber's voice went up. "Sell the — I use that car. What am I supposed to drive to my social club?"

"Don't worry, I'll get you something better. It's actually standard procedure when you own a company this size — periodic fleet upgrades. Sell the old ones, replace them with new." She smiled. "Yours will be an upgrade, I promise."

Amber visibly calculated the value of a new car versus the loss of the existing one and relaxed. "Oh. All right. You had me scared for a second. I'll get the keys."

"Registration and title documents too, please."

By midday, a buyer had taken both cars away — the old family sedan and Anaya's own sports coupe. She'd debated keeping the sports car, but she was five months pregnant and had no business behind the wheel of a two-door. It went with the rest.

She rode in the buyer's vehicle as far as the financial district, then asked to be dropped at a specific bank.

She had five credit cards and two ATM cards to cancel. It took almost two hours.

Not because the bank was slow. Because there were that many accounts.