Sabrina’s POV
Archie took it, blinking. “You’re… not mad?”
He sounded confused. Like the absence of my rage meant something was wrong.
“No reason to be mad,” I said, voice smooth as silk. “You’re just doing what you think you’re supposed to.”
He smiled like that meant something. “Thank you for understanding, babe.”
The door shut behind him.
And just like that, I was alone again. In the same house. On the same couch. But I wasn’t the same woman.
Three more days.
Then I’d be gone for good.
I hope you’re happy, Archie. I really do.
Because Betty? She’s all yours now. Just like you always wanted.
…
Archie didn’t come back that night.
I’d told myself he wouldn’t, that I knew better by now. But knowing didn’t stop the ache.
There was still a small, stubborn part of me that held out hope. And when it was crushed—as it always was—I didn’t let myself fall apart this time.
I had more important things to do than mourn a man who’d stopped choosing me a long time ago.
So, I got up early and made breakfast for Elly.
And just as I was setting the table, there came a knock on the door.
Too early for guests. My heart thudded.
When I opened it, a man in a crisp black suit stood waiting. “Are you Miss Sabrina Marcellus? I’m here on behalf of Mrs. Valez. She’s requested your presence—along with your daughter—at the Valez Manor.”
Mrs. Valez? Archie’s mother?
The same woman who once said I was a stain on their family name. That Elly—my beautiful, sweet girl—was nothing more than a burden. An illegitimate daughter who would never carry the Valez name, let alone their pride.
So why summon me now?
My stomach twisted. There were games behind every door in that house. But I wasn’t foolish enough to ignore her invitation. Not with the Valez name stitched into every shadow of New York.
…
The main hall of the Valez Manor was gleaming as always—cold, grand, and expensive. But what caught my attention wasn’t the chandelier or the marble floors.
It was the scene waiting for me.
Sally Valez stood at the center like a queen on her throne. And next to her stood Archie. With Betty tucked under his arm, smiling like she’d already won.
I didn’t have time to brace myself before Sally spoke, her voice slicing through the air like a blade.
“The Valez family is expecting a baby boy,” she announced, eyes gleaming as they fell on Betty’s stomach. “And it’s time we made things official. I propose Archie and Betty be married before the child is born.”
Applause. Laughter. Congratulations.
But I only looked at one person.
Archie. He was grinning down at Betty, like she hung the stars. “I’m going to be a father,” he said.
Going to be? Had he forgotten he was one?
“Mommy,” Elly whispered, tugging on my sleeve, “is Daddy going to have another baby? Am I getting a brother or sister?”
I bent down and scooped her into my arms. “Oh, baby…” Her question was innocent, too innocent. And it pierced the room like a gunshot.
Gasps. Murmurs. Shuffling heels.
Sally’s voice rose like a whip crack.
“Some women just don’t get the hint,” she said, loud enough for every soul in the room to hear. “Dragging a bastard child around like it’s a golden ticket. Girls these days think one night with the right man is all it takes to climb their way into a dynasty.”
More voices.
“That’s Archie’s illegitimate daughter?”
“She’s so old already.”
“What is she doing here? This is Betty’s celebration.”
Sally stood from her chair and approached, slow and deliberate. Her heels echoed like gunshots across the floor.
She stopped in front of me, her eyes hard. “Sabrina,” she said, “I called you here to make your position clear. You and your daughter will never be part of this family.”
She looked at Elly like she was something unpleasant stuck to the bottom of her shoe.
“My son deserves happiness. And that’s not with you. So listen carefully—your daughter is not a Valez. I don’t care what name you give her or what lies you tell. But from this day on, don’t you dare claim she’s Archie’s.”
She smiled—sharp, cruel, practiced. “Do you understand me?”
For a heartbeat, I stood frozen. Stunned. Not because I didn’t know what to say—but because I couldn’t quite believe she’d said it out loud.
Sally had never liked me. And by extension, she never liked Elly. But I guess I’d held on to some naive hope that blood—real, innocent blood—might soften her. That somewhere beneath the Chanel and venom, there might be a heartbeat of decency.
But no.
