She Was Never Just the Wife novel Chapter 49

Chapter 49

Chapter 49

47

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The dark-gray carpet in Cloudscape’s hallway swallowed every footstep. Crystal sconces cast a soft glow, turning the abstract paintings on the walls hazy. A faint cedar scent hung in the air. It should have been soothing, but it only made Laylah’s heart pound harder.

From the private room came the low murmur of conversation and laughter-Beckham’s fluent Averonian, Colin’s hearty laugh, the crisp clink of glasses. Everything seemed to be going smoothly.

But Laylah knew the pill was already dissolving inside Beckham’s body, quietly beginning to take effect. She sat on the sofa in the corner, cradling a cup of coffee that had long since gone cold. Her fingertips were icy.

As the seconds ticked by, her gaze kept drifting back to Beckham. Under the light, his profile looked unusually sharp, the familiar focus in his eyes unchanged-except for the faint flush rising at the tips of his ears.

Laylah wondered if the drug was starting to take effect, but she couldn’t tell.

The bartender had said the blue pill would take half an hour to fully kick in. The first signs would be subtle-a slight rise in body heat and a faster heartbeat. The real craving and arousal wouldn’t peak until an hour later.

But Laylah couldn’t wait that long.

Her palms were damp again. Her stomach felt like a fist had clenched around it.

She shot to her feet so suddenly that both Beckham and Colin looked over.

“Sorry,” she said with a strained smile. “I need to use the restroom.”

Beckham nodded. His gaze lingered on her face for a moment before he turned back to Colin and resumed the conversation. His expression was calm, giving nothing away.

Laylah all but fled the room.

The hallway was empty. She hurried toward the restroom in her heels, her heartbeat pounding so hard it seemed to echo in her chest. When she pushed open the heavy carved door, a blast of cold air hit her.

The woman in the mirror looked pale, with a sheen of sweat at her temples. She turned on the faucet and let the icy water run over her hands. Her fingers were still trembling.

“Laylah, calm down,” she whispered to her reflection. “You’ve come this far. There’s no turning back now. Once tonight is over, everything will be different. Becoming Mrs. Lucero and being a part of the Lucero family’s future… It’ll all be yours.”

She bent down and splashed cold water on her face. The droplets slid down her cheeks like tears, except they were cold. “Celia means nothing. She’s old news. And Elliott? He’s just some fool who took in a secondhand castoff out of pity.”

Her voice dropped lower, but the malice in it only sharpened. “Once I’m carrying Beckham’s child, once I’m standing beside him where I belong, every one of you will end up bowing to me!” There was a near-manic stubbornness in her eyes.

19:32 Mon, May 11 d

Chapter 49

47

Laylah drew a deep breath, took out her compact, and carefully touched up her makeup, covering the sweat and panic beneath a veil of powder. Then she reapplied her lipstick-a soft rosy nude that fit the gentle image she always projected.

Once she was done, she practiced her smile in the mirror: the curve of her lips, the softness in her eyes. Every detail had to be flawless.

Just then, she heard a faint sound outside.

Laylah stilled and listened. Footsteps. Light, steady footsteps that stopped somewhere just outside the

restroom.

She frowned. At this hour, there shouldn’t have been anyone else in the restaurant besides the people in their private room. ‘Could it be a staff member?’ she wondered.

Without thinking much of it, she gave herself one last look in the mirror to make sure everything was perfect, then turned and opened the door.

The hallway was dimmer than the restroom. She had barely taken two steps when she spotted a man leaning against the wall not far away. She stopped short.

He was dressed in a well-cut dark gray suit with no tie, the top two buttons of his shirt undone. One hand was tucked into his pocket. In the other, he idly flipped a silver lighter open and shut, each click soft and precise.

The dim light carved his face into shadow, obscuring most of it and leaving only the sharp bridge of his nose and the slight curve of his lips visible.

But what really sent a chill down Laylah’s spine were his eyes.

He lounged there against the wall, staring straight at her. His gaze was calm, almost lazy, yet beneath it was something that made her uneasy-an appraising sharpness, as if he could see straight through her carefully built mask to the ugly calculations underneath.

Laylah’s heart tightened. She didn’t know this man.

Cloudscape was an ultra-private restaurant. Anyone who could get in here was either wealthy or powerful. Laylah had seen-or at least heard of-most of the people who mattered in the Silvergate and Bayside’s

upper

circles. But this man was a complete stranger to her.

‘Is he some fresh face in the scene? Or maybe someone from out of town?’ Laylah wondered.

She quickly steadied herself. Whoever he was, she had neither the time nor the patience to deal with him right now. Beckham was what mattered.

She looked away and pretended not to see him, continuing toward the private room. Her heels brushed softly against the carpet with every step.

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