Chapter 3

Isla's voice was meek and timid. She sounded frightened yet expectant as she said tremulously, "I'm ovulating today. The chances of me getting pregnant today are higher. We might mess up if we drag this out for another month." Maya stiffened as tears welled up in her eyes. Still, she bit her lip and tried to stave off the tears. Then, she told Arthur to turn back and whispered, "Let's go home." The brakes screeched across the asphalt as he turned to look at her in disbelief. "Do you even hear yourself? This farce has gone on long enough, and you're still siding with the Selwyns? Maya, just what do you take me for?" His face was pale with anger, and he couldn't even bring himself to word his grievances. Instead, he angrily shoved her against the seat and kissed her roughly. The kiss was cut off by a crisp sound of Maya's hand landing on his cheek. Arthur touched the tinge of red staining his cheek before letting out a cold snort. Then, he opened the car door, tossed her out of the car, and hit the gas. He had left her behind. Maya quickly collapsed to the ground as she stared at the car disappearing from her line of sight. It took her a while to get her bearings. When she did, she realized that she had left her purse in the car. Alas, Arthur and his car were long gone. So, she had no choice but to walk down the road. It was rush hour. Thus, cars sped past her, horns blaring. Sometimes, some drivers would slam their brakes and cuss her out. The looks in their eyes were so vicious and angry that it was as if they wanted to skin her alive. It took her a great deal of effort to finally leave the highway. Unfortunately, she could only keep walking forward as she had no phone or money on her person. As night fell, so did her temperature. The wind was so cold that it felt like it were trying to slice her apart. She thought it couldn't get any worse, but the skies opened up, giving way to heavy rain. She could only force herself to break into a run. Alas, the trip wasn't smooth sailing as she tripped midway, skinning her knee. As the merciless rain sleuthed off her, the pain nearly made her keel over. … It was already well past midnight by the time she managed to get back to the villa. The villa's lights were still on. Arthur was sitting on the couch by the window. When he saw her drenched to the bone, his spine stiffened. Nevertheless, he quickly recovered, his composure sliding into place. "What took you so long? Do you find it disagreeable to see me with Isla? Or are you trying to get out of serving her?" The scent of sweat and sex seemed to still permeate the air. Maya didn't respond, but the slight curl of her fingers was her only reaction to his words. Then, she saw him point toward the kitchen with a mocking smile on his lips. "Isla was hard at work tonight. Make her some stew, would you?" There were only three of them living in this villa. Paul and Barbara had dismissed all the servants in an attempt to protect their reputation. As a result, Maya was forced to learn how to do all the housework without any help. She was already finding it difficult when she was healthy, but what his orders seemed nigh impossible to do now. After all, she had been drinking tonight and was forced to walk back home under the pouring rain. Suffice it to say, her meat suit felt extra floppy, and she could barely make her way to the kitchen. Just as she expected, she had just taken a few steps toward the kitchen when her legs gave up on her, causing her to fall to the ground. Arthur, who had been walking upstairs, paused mid-step. He tilted his head to look at her before letting out a sarcastic snort. "You made your choice, so you have no right to back out now. You'd better not make me wait long for the stew." The dim lighting made his dark eyes even more unreadable. Maya smiled bitterly as she remained sprawled on the ground. After a long while, she finally dragged herself into the kitchen. Soon, a delicious-smelling stew was ready. She whipped up the meal with practised ease. As steam wafted up from the pot, she couldn't help but feel as though the steam was a time-traveling medium. She used to be the apple of Arthur's eye. Arthur had never allowed her to cook. Instead, he insisted that she deserved a life of luxury and only had to luxuriate in his tender care. Alas, people changed. She made her bed, so she had to lie in her bed of roses. She deserved to suffer. The corner of her eyes became wet, but she couldn't tell whether it was caused by her tears or the steam coming off the pot of stew. Eventually, she finally managed to carry the stew up to the second floor. She had just stood by the door when it suddenly swung open. Isla screamed as she backed away, colliding straight into her. The hot stew flew into the air, spilling all over Maya. "Ah!" Maya cried out in pain. Now, not only was her thigh a dangerous shade of red, but her stomach was also protesting in agony. She couldn't breathe, and her vision turned spotty. Arthur finally rushed out of the room. When he saw what was happening, he instinctively moved toward her. Just then, Isla, who was right next to her, paled. "Ah! My stomach hurts!" Her cries froze him in place, causing him to waver. His gaze shifted between Maya and Isla, clearly in a dilemma. Eventually, he carried Isla and strode away without a backward glance. Maya was in so much pain that she couldn't even speak. As she clutched the railing, she suddenly found that the chill that had pierced her body earlier couldn't even compare to the freezing cold she was now experiencing.