Chapter 73: Mariana's Pov

In a manner of speaking, I didn't think it'll be this painful. I didn't think it'll rip my heart apart to see hatred and spitefulness in my mother's eyes, to see disgust in my father's eyes, and to see disappointment in my brother's eyes.

Take all of that-the hate, spite, disgust, disappointment-those are the intense emotions dancing violently in Alejandro's eyes as he pins me a glare.

It makes my stomach churn, makes me almost unable to look at him, and yet, I find myself drawn to those orbs that hate me.

I want to run to him, sit beside him, hug him, tell him to wait, to give me a few months. . . I want to tell him that it'll only take a short moment, this new direction I've chosen, then we can go back and have our happily ever after.

But I don't.

It's a path I've chosen, and I prefer to walk down that path knowing that the people I love hates me, knowing that sentimental emotions won't ruin this for me.

It's painful, but I can deal with this pain. I can hold on a little longer.

I'm absent minded throughout the ride back to the Vastlavs estate, the only thing barely keeping me in the present, the disgusting feel of Radimr's fingers as they play with mine, and the fiery look in Alejandro's eyes as he shoots my husband a glare.

We enter into the manor and dread settles at the base of my spine, my mind replaying the dread I endured in this house. It sends my nerves to overdrive and I stop walking.

"You should go ahead, I'll just grab a glass of water and join in a few minutes." I whisper, forcing a small smile on my lips.

Radimr turns to me, a brow raised, suspicion in his eyes. But he doesn't say what he's thinking. He simply smiles back at me, and his is not forced. "Are you sure?" He asks, voice soft.

I nod. "Of course."

And then it surprises me when he starts swaggering up the stairs without protesting.

What is this transformation about?

Those will be thoughts for later.

I stride into the kitchen and instead of water, I pour myself a glass of orange juice. I open the fridge in search of something to snack on after that long, uncomfortable flight. My eyes land on the vanilla cake sitting pretty under a glass dome.

My smile widens instantaneously, my stomach grumbling in approval.

I cut myself a thick slice of the cake, humming a playful tune as I set it down on the counter.

Leaning over the island, I take a bite. The sweetness hits me instantly, and a groan slips out. Another bite, then another. I can't stop. It's too good, too perfect, like it's saving me from myself. I moan softly, each bite feeling like pure bliss.

I'm halfway through the slice when I hear footsteps. I freeze, fork in hand, just as Alejandro strides past the kitchen, his face a storm cloud. He doesn't even glance at me. My stomach twists.

"Alejandro," I call out, my voice firm. He keeps walking, ignoring me.

I set the fork down and try again, louder this time. "Alejandro!"

Nothing. His back stays to me, his pace steady. My jaw tightens, but I force a calm smile onto my face.

"You'll have to talk to me soon, darling," I say, my tone sweet but edged with sarcasm. "Whether you want to or not."

That slows him to a stop. And I almost lose my balance when he turns to face me, the movement so harp it startles a shaky breath out of me.

"Are you pregnant?" He asks suddenly, his eyes raking over my face-not gently, not softly, not with the usual adoration I usually see in them.

He stares at me like I'm some monster, his gaze demanding, curious.

I gulp, forcing out a broken chuckle. "Why would you ask that?"

This time, he turns his entire body towards me and takes two steps forward, still maintaining a few feet of distance. The room feels like it's closing in, the tension suffocating me.

Alejandro crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowed viciously. I clutch the edge of the counter, trying to steady my breath, but my heart pounds too loudly. He watches me, his eyes dark, unforgiving.

"Because I'm not blind," he says. "I might be a fool, but not a blind one."

My stomach flips, his words cutting deep before I can even process them.

"And…" he continues, his tone steady with waves of venom, "you don't usually like sweet things, especially vanilla. You say it's too sweetly and soft, and you don't like soft."

I blink at him, my throat dry. "I did?"

"You did." His lips curl into a bitter smile. "So let me rephrase my question: the child you're carrying, is it mine or is it his?"

I freeze, suddenly unable to breathe. My grip on the counter edge tightens to keep me from visibly trembling. "You're fucking insane," I say, my voice shakier than I want it to be. I immediately force a sharp laugh, intending to cover up the shakiness of my voice. "Let's imagine that I was pregnant. Why would I come into another man's house with your child?"

"Is there anything you're not capable of doing, Mariana?"

When he says the words, the corner of his mouth curves into a mocking smirk, his gaze unwavering.

I swallow hard. "I get that you're angry-"

He cut me off, his voice rising with frustration. But he quickly regains his composure and his tone turns icy.

"Angry? No, I'm not. . . far from that." Another step brings him closer, his eyes burning with something darker than anger. "This is me. Who I am. Snubby, snippy, hateful. . . You're not familiar with my darkness because I refuse to show it to you."

I stare at him, my chest tightening. "Why?"

"Why?" He echoes, almost like he's mocking the word.

I nod, desperate to understand the man in front of me. "Why did you shield your darkness from me, Alejandro?"

His laugh is cold, bitter. "Because it'll overwhelm you. It'll rip the air from your lungs and keep you on the edge at all times. It'll drive you out of your mind. . . and it's unfortunate that I like you a little too much to make you that miserable."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I feel my cheek grow wet. . . tears. I smack it away. "So you don't like me anymore?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Wouldn't it make me a fool if I lied to myself?" His gaze softens for a fleeting moment. He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. "I do like. . . love you still. But I've suddenly realized that you're a selfish woman. And there really isn't a problem with being selfish, with putting your desires above everything and everyone." His voice hardens again. "But you just need to understand, Mariana, that if you make the choice to abandon the people who love you for your desires, then be prepared to stand alone."

My brows twitch, my eyes opening and closing in sharp blinks. "Alejandro. . ." I whisper.

"This is my limit," he says. His tone is final, cold. "I am done with you, with chasing you. I am done allowing you humiliate me. And I hope you enjoy your marriage with that. . . my brother."