Chapter 6

• Ayla
• "Is this how your dead mother taught you how to make chicken fried rice?" Catarina spat, dropping her spoon on the glass dining table with a clink. I ground my teeth, her words making me want to force the food down her throat, and bash her face on the table. It was one thing insulting me, but bringing my mother into the mix was entirely a different one.
• "Get back in that kitchen and make me something else!" She ordered, throwing her napkin at me, pinning her cold gaze at me.
• "What's wrong with this one?" I asked, holding her gaze with my chin tilted upwards.
• "Excuse me!" She squinted her eyes, pushing her chair backward with force as she stood.
• "How dare you talk back at me?" I ground my teeth together, with my mouth sealed shut.
• "Mom?" Danica's voice drifted into the luxurious dining room. Even though it had just been a week, the two seemed to have just clicked. Catarina pampered Nika every time, a treatment she hadn't accorded to me as her son's wife.
• "Hey honey," Catarina replied, the frown in her face dissolving into a smile when Danica walked inside. My chest tightened, wishing I would get the same love; instead, I was stuck as a servant for failing to read a document before signing. As a business degree holder, I knew better not to sign a document without reading it thoroughly, but I let my trust for Catarina push me into a trap.
• "You should be in bed resting. You know what the doctor said about taking care of yourself and the pregnancy," she added gently, once again making me wish that the words were directed at me.
• "Come on, mom, I can't lie down all day. In fact, I wanted to go for a walk in the backyard when I heard shouting." How cruel was life to allow my friend to replace me without any ounce of guilt?
• 'Would she be this caring if she also found out that I am pregnant?' I thought, looking away from the scene that just sent a barrage of emotions my way.
• Seeing Danica reminded me each second of Roman's infidelity and her utmost betrayal. I couldn't stop the painful tags in my chest whenever she walked closer. She served as a reminder of my failed marriage, life, and friendship. For the life in my womb though, I had to suck it up and stand tall.
• "Is everything okay? I heard shouting from the living room." Nika faked concern, standing next to Catarina.
• "It's nothing to worry you, dear," Catarina responded, scrunching up her face when she looked at me.
• "What are you still doing here? Go make something else for me," she dismissed with a wave of her hand.
• "And for me too," Danica chimed in, her overly sweet voice getting on my fucking nerves.
• I walked out without another word, wishing that I hadn't stopped working when Roman suggested it.
• "I would have enough money from savings to repay them," I whispered to myself in a shaky voice, getting into the kitchen.
• I couldn't count the number of times I had thrown up because of my sensitive sense of smell. The smell of fried onions made it even worse. I, however, had to push myself because I had no choice. A legally signed agreement could land me in jail, and with my pregnancy, it would be even harder giving birth to my child in such horrible conditions. I preferred suffering inside a mansion than inside a cell with strangers.
• "What are you doing here? Aren't you done with making dinner?" I almost jumped at Marise's voice as she pulled me out of my thoughts.
• I busied myself with fetching ingredients for meatballs and pre-heating water on the stove. I ignored her, not even sparing her a glance.
• "Ayla," she called, moving closer to me. I knew she was the one who had seen Kaleb and me the night Catarina returned. She was also the one who told Roman that I had slept in Kaleb's wing, knowing very well that it would become an issue.
• "Look, I now know that what I did was wrong. I should have defended you when Roman slapped you. I shouldn't have told him I saw Kaleb carrying you into his wing too," she spoke, while I sang my favorite song 'Under the Influence' under my breath, outright ignoring her.
• "I'm sorry." I let out a chuckle, shaking my head.
• "As you can see, Marise, I am busy making dinner for the second time for the people you decided to choose over me despite being so good to you," I snapped, remembering the multiple days off and gifts I had given her, only for her to stab me in the back.
• "I'm sorry, I thought I was doing the right thing," she mumbled.
• "Yeah, right." I mocked, closing my eyes to get ahold of my brewing emotions.
• I just wanted to curl into my small bed and think about how I could have turned down Roman's marriage proposal. I felt so tired and sleepy, but with Catarina making my life a living hell, I barely had enough time to sleep.
• "Let me help you," Marise suggested, pushing one of the kitchen chairs close to me.
• "I didn't ask for help," I flatly dismissed.
• "You need as much rest as you can get in your condition." Her words had my hands freezing above the minced meat in the glass bowl.
• "What condition?" I swallowed hard, my heart pounding harder a bit.
• "I know you are pregnant, Ayla. My question is, why don't you just tell Sir Roman and stop this whole treatment and maid thing? Or do you enjoy being ordered around and being overworked?" I turned slowly, scraping my brain for anything to say to her.
• "Where did you get that farfetched information from?" I laughed nervously, looking everywhere else but at her.
• "Your palazzo pants pockets, while I was doing laundry earlier today. Been wanting to talk to you about it but didn't get time," she explained, making me curse myself for forgetting such an important detail.
• "Shit," I whispered, remembering about the second pregnancy test kit that was tucked inside the dresser. Had Roman seen it? but if he had, he would have asked me already.
• "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone, but remember that you won't be able to hide it for long. Now let me cook; they won't know I'm the one who cooked because you'll go serve them when I'm done. It's the least I can do after betraying you."
• I just sat down without a word and allowed Marise to help me. The need to lie down was becoming intense with every second spent in that kitchen.
• "Roman cannot know that I am pregnant," I insisted, not trusting Marise to keep her big mouth shut.
• "What?" I turned so fast at Roman's voice. He was standing at the kitchen entry, his brows pulled together. His briefcase dropped beside his feet.
• He crossed his arms, a bitter smirk tugging at his lips as he looked at me up and down, almost as if he were sizing me.
• "Pregnant?" he scoffed, his voice dripping with mockery.
• "Yes," I mumbled, getting up from the chair, my mind pushing forward the dreadful memories of that night.
• "Oh, please, spare me the drama." His voice dropped, low and venomous. "You think I’m stupid enough to believe this pathetic little lie?"
• "I'm not lying. I meant to tell you the evening you stood me up for dinner. I wanted it to be a surprise," I defended, trying so hard to keep my emotions at bay.
• He stepped closer, towering over me, his eyes gleaming with accusations. "I can't believe you'd stoop so low as far as faking a pregnancy for pity," he spat. His voice rose while I just hung my head in defeat, the corners of my lips trembling.
• "You really think a baby," he spat the word like it disgusted him, then continued, "is going to change anything?"
• He laughed out, brushing his left hand over his mouth. "Well, it doesn't because, guess what? You are still just a low-life maid picked up as a charity, and you will remain so until my mother says otherwise, or do you have enough money to repay us?" His voice lowered again, cruel and cold and full of mockery.
• "If I were you, I would drop the act, Ayla, or I'll make sure you regret ever trying to deceive me." He turned away with a disgusted scoff, not waiting for me to respond, his face twisted in arrogant disdain.