"Congratulations, Miss Gonzalez! You'll be a mother soon!"
Stumbling out of the hospital, Janiya Gonzalez's hands trembled as she clutched the report. Tears welled up in her eyes in a mixture of joy and concern.
Four months ago, she had married Tristan Pittman, scion to the most powerful family in town.
The wedding earned the envy of all the women in town; she herself could not believe her luck.
Janiya had immediately fallen for him when she first met him at age nine, and no other man mattered to her for as long as she could remember.
In the past eleven years, she had devotedly stayed by his side, fighting hard to improve herself in hopes of giving him a dazzling impression.
She had always thought that a man like him was unattainable. It was something a lowly person such as herself could only dream of.
But then, four months ago, she was invited to a friend's party; she wasn't sure if it had been fate or destiny, but at one point, she had drunk too much and passed out intoxicated.
The next day, she opened her eyes to find the alluring face of a young man mere inches away from her own.
Tristan Pittman, sharing a bed with her!
Janiya had stared at him, stupefied.
This was the very same man of her wildest dreams!
Was it all real?
Her heart thundered against her chest, and Janiya pinched herself viciously.
Her nerves responded accordingly to the pain.
Clear and real pain.
She had really slept with Tristan.
Slowly, she glanced around to assess her surroundings.
She immediately spotted the flecks of red standing out against the clean pale sheets...
It explained everything that happened the previous nights without any more words.
Before Janiya could process her predicament, she heard a ruckus outside the door as journalists surged against the room in their bid to be the first in obtaining the most sensational news of the day and blow up the Internet.
The Pittmans were a renowned family with strict customs. Mason Pittman, the current patriarch, valued reputation above all things and quickly established an engagement upon receiving word of the scandal.
It was Janiya's wildest dreams came true, but also the beginning of her worst nightmare.
Tristan did not like her at all and abhorred her like a pair of broken shoes.
He hated her for forcing him to let down his first love: Larissa Gonzalez, Janiya's very own sister.
Even so, Janiya still mustered up her courage and dialed Tristan's number.
As expected, he ruthlessly hung up the call. Janiya carefully wrote a text message, pleading him to come home and discuss the matter.
Tristan had left her all alone during the four months of their marriage.
Janiya knew all too well where he had really gone to.
Tristan did not reply to her message, and Janiya felt her heart sink as she realized he would not be coming home that night.
Giving up on waiting, she stepped into the shower and was about to head to bed when the door slammed open with a loud thud; someone had kicked it in.
She looked up and saw the man occupying her mind day-in-day-out standing at the doorway. He was as handsome and tall, and the frame made him look like a beautiful oil portrait.
Yet his expression was ugly.
"Tristan?" She called out carefully, arranging her simple face into a persuasive little smile. "Why are you home?"
But before she got close, the man stepped forward, yanked her hand, and threw her onto the bed.
Distinctive joints cracked as the man's fingers locked her chin in a tight grip. His sloe eyes glared down at her with fury.
The man's thin lips parted slightly, spilling out disgust and scorn. "Aren't you so impatient, Janiya?"
Janiya paled as she gazed back at him. She had loved this man for eleven years, and he was now stabbing her heart with a million daggers.
"Tristan, it's not like what you think..."
"Not what I think?" He squinted down at her, lips twisting into a cold sneer. "After all you've done to climb into my bed, you're going to play chaste now?"
He smashed his lips onto hers. Her body wracked in pain as she heard him rip her clothes.
Janiya gaped, at a loss at Tristan's abrupt anger.
Didn't he loathe her? Why was he forcing himself on her now?
Was it for humiliation?
Before she could register any further thoughts, the man's broad figure descended upon her once more...
