Chapter 80 The Flower And The Knife
Becca’s POV
Asher stepped in front of me again.
“Becca, just five minutes. Please.”
I didn’t slow down. My smile stayed polite, fixed, practiced.
“I already told the coordinator I’m leaving early. Maybe another time.”
The movement made his hand swipe at air
He reached for my wrist.
I pretended not to notice and lifted my champagne glass then turned smoothly toward a group of designers.
Third attempt tonight.
He kept trying to corner me over drinks, over a dance, over some conversation he claimed was ‘urgent’.
I didn’t want any of it.
Not after the way he looked at me earlier…
And the cruel fate the universe had brought upon us.
So I kept moving. Dodging him through the glittering hall like it was a game I refused to lose.
I only breathed properly again when I finally stepped into the hotel lobby and the cold night air slapped the perfume-heavy tension from my lungs.
☬☬
The flight home felt longer than usual. Korea’s lights faded beneath the clouds, and a strange unease kept tugging at my stomach.
I tried calling Mark twice but it went straight to voicemail.
He was probably in one of those meetings that devoured his entire sanity.
Or asleep, even exhausted.
Still, something felt… off. I shrugged it away.
I’d surprise him tonight.
Tension or not, we needed a night that belonged only to us.
The penthouse welcomed me with silence.
I dropped my luggage by the couch and went straight into my plan like a woman on a mission.
The whole house was empty, and looked dead. The lights were off and the curtains closed.
Well, that's something to expect in a locked house but this had an eerie feeling.
I tuned in the music player to my favourite song. Dancing away as I began to make preparations for the perfect night.
I lit the scented candles first, particularly I had bought the ones he said made the place smell like a garden after rain at the airport mart
Then I scattered rose petals across the bedroom floor, letting them trail all the way to the bed.
I had the vision I imagined; soft, pretty and romantic without trying too hard.
The black lace lingerie I bought in Seoul waited on the bed.
My cheeks heated just looking at it.
The bag from the adult store sat on the dresser, handcuffs, ice cream, and whips.
I still wasn’t sure how to use it properly, but I am willing to learn.
For him.
In the kitchen, I had already prepared something yummy.
The aroma of his favorite meal filled the air, warm and inviting.
Everything felt perfect.
I opened my phone again.
Still no call nor text from him.
No “I’ll be late.”
Hasn't he seen my calls?
I bit my lip and forced a small smile.
He’ll walk in at any moment. He’ll be shocked. Happy. Maybe even smile the way he does when he forgets the world hates him.
I wanted that smile tonight.
“Tick!Tok! Tick,_ it was midnight.
The candles were half melted, and I had to return the ice cream to the fridge.
I stood at the tall windows, watching the storm smear rain across the glass.
Thunder rolled somewhere far off, rumbling like the sky was angry at someone.
“Where are you…?” I whispered.
Maybe he was stuck at work.
Maybe traffic.
Maybe this was one of those nights where he drowned himself in spreadsheets until dawn.
My chest tightened anyway.
Was he avoiding me?
I paced around the penthouse.
My reflection in the window looked pathetic, lingerie under an oversized robe, makeup fading, eyes too bright.
I needed to sit before my thoughts spiraled somewhere ugly.
My eyes flickered around, trying to find a solace place to rest.
That’s when I saw it.
An envelope.
It was placed neatly on the coffee table like someone wanted to make sure I wouldn’t miss it.
My heartbeat jerked.
I walked toward it slowly.
.
I didn’t want to open it.
But my fingers were already sliding under the flap.
Two papers slipped out.
One landed face up.
I froze.
Mercy Memorial Hospital
Pregnancy Test Result
Patient: Olivia Reed
Gestation: 2 weeks
My throat closed. Olivia was pregnant!
Well that was a shocker but what business did it have to be in Mark's penthouse.
The second paper drifted to the floor.
I didn’t want to turn it over yet my hands moved anyway.
Paternity Test
99.9% match: Mark Simmons
A cold feeling spread through me so violently I felt my knees buckle.
I sank to the carpet. My plans clasp to my lips to prevent me from screaming.
The rose petals brushed my fingers mocking, too soft for a moment this sharp.
My ears rang. My vision blurred.
Olivia pregnant?
Mark.
Mark’s child.
My Mark.
I covered my mouth as a sob ripped its way out.
'This couldn't be, it can't,’ I yelled to myself.
Images crashed into my head, him smiling at texts I didn’t see, his sudden distance, the days he vanished without explanation.
My chest hurt. A twisting pain right under my ribs.
I stood on shaking legs and wiped my cheeks with trembling fingers.
The candles flickered. The petals on the floor looked like a grave I had built for myself.
I grabbed my handbag slowly, carefully, like I was afraid the world would collapse if I moved too fast.
At the door, I looked back at everything I had prepared.
The dinner. The roses.
The lingerie.
The soft light meant for love, now glowing over betrayal.
I swallowed the last of my tears and whispered the only word that escaped me.
“Why?”
Then I stepped out and closed the door behind me.