Part 3The Billionaire's Retainer

And just like that, the two of them slowly drifted together.

But Chloe wasn't satisfied just being the side piece.

She wanted to destroy me, take my place, and become the undisputed Mrs. Sterling.

So, she went out of her way to torment me.

And the more she bullied me, the guiltier Ethan felt.

The guiltier Ethan felt, the more money he threw at me as compensation.

He threw so much money at me that I could permanently retire from the sugar baby industry long before my looks faded.

My phone screen lit up.

Another massive compensation wire transfer had just cleared.

I stared at that long string of zeros.

Any lingering bitterness or jealousy in my chest was instantly wiped clean.

This arrangement was perfect.

She got the love.

I got the money.

Everyone got exactly what they wanted. Win-win.

After Ethan left, I started auditing my global assets.

Thirty million dollars in liquid cash. More than enough to live in absolute luxury for the rest of my life.

Once everything was verified, I booked a one-way first-class ticket to Switzerland.

The flight was scheduled for exactly three days from now.

All I had to do was tie up a few loose ends, and I would finally be free.

Just as I finalized my itinerary, Ethan called.

I panicked for a second, terrified he had found out about my escape plan.

Instead, his voice came through the speaker, issuing a non-negotiable command.

"Come to the old estate."

"Chloe hasn't had much of an appetite lately, and she's craving that fish stew you make."

I let out a massive sigh of relief.

Without a word of complaint, I changed my clothes and drove straight to the estate.

The Sterling estate hadn't been this lively in years.

The massive driveway was packed with luxury cars.

Ethan's grandfather's booming laughter echoed through the halls, impossible to hide.

"Wonderful, wonderful! The Sterling family finally has an heir!"

"You've been a playboy your whole life, Ethan, but it looks like you're finally settling down."

Chloe sat in the center of the crowd, one hand resting delicately on her flat stomach.

Ethan sat right beside her, smiling as he peeled an orange for her.

They were surrounded by fawning, wealthy guests.

I was long accustomed to being ignored and left in the shadows.

But hearing Ethan and his friends excitedly discussing baby names for Chloe's child...

I involuntarily looked down at my own flat stomach.

There was a baby there once, too.

My child. Ethan's child.

On the day Chloe pushed me down the stairs, I was over three months pregnant.

When the blood started pooling between my legs, I was paralyzed by absolute terror.

Panicking and helpless, I frantically called Ethan's phone over and over again.

I called over a dozen times.

The only answer I eventually got was the muffled sound of Chloe moaning in ecstasy in the background.

It wasn't until late the next afternoon that Ethan finally found out about the miscarriage from his executive assistant.

He didn't offer any elaborate explanations.

He only said two sentences to me.

"It's better this way. Saves us a lot of trouble."

"Make sure you take your birth control on time from now on."

After saying that, he transferred the deed to the Bel Air mansion into my name.

Back then, I forced a smile and consoled myself.

Trading an unborn mistake for a twenty-million-dollar mansion.

It was a good deal.

But now, looking at the overflowing tenderness in Ethan's eyes, seeing how incredibly excited he looked...

A bizarre, unprecedented wave of agonizing sorrow suddenly surged in my chest.

"Why are you so late?"

Ethan's voice violently snapped me out of my memories.

His cold gaze swept over my pale face, finally landing in the direction of the kitchen.

"The fish is already prepped. Chloe is extremely sensitive to the smell of seafood right now, so be careful when you're cooking it."

I smiled.

A sugar baby. A mistress.

I didn't have the right to feel sad or throw a tantrum.

I nodded and obediently walked into the kitchen.

Behind me, loud, undisguised mocking laughter erupted from the living room.

"Oh my god, look at the 'little Mrs. Sterling' playing the perfect housewife."