He Chose Her, I Chose Freedom

My husband, Keaton, and my adopted sister, Kaylene, betrayed me. I discovered Kaylene was pregnant with his child, a calculated move to secure an heir for the shipping empire my family built and he now controlled.

He painted me as a cold, career-obsessed wife who couldn't give him a child, turning our mutual decision to wait into a weapon against me. When I confronted them, Keaton promised to handle it, but it was just another lie.

His deception ran deeper than I ever imagined. When a violent figure from Keaton' s past emerged, revealing he had used stolen money to marry into my family, Keaton chose to protect his pregnant mistress over me, leaving me to be attacked and seriously injured.

He left me bleeding on the floor of an art gallery, choosing to shield the woman carrying his child-a child that, I would later discover, wasn't even his.

I faked my own death, escaping to Ireland to start a new life, free from his web of lies.

But Keaton, consumed by a twisted obsession after learning the truth, hunted me down. He found me, desperate to reclaim what he had destroyed.

"You're mine, Blair," he growled, his eyes filled with a possessive fire. "Always have been, always will be."

Chapter 1

Blair POV:

The pink line on the pregnancy test stared back at me, mocking the perfect façade Keaton and I had meticulously built. It wasn't mine. It was Kaylene' s. My adopted sister, cradling Keaton' s child. The world tilted on its axis, but I stood firm, the CEO of Clayton Shipping, not some fragile girl.

Kaylene sat across from me in my study, a porcelain doll with wide, innocent eyes. Her hands fluttered over her slightly rounded belly.

"Blair, please," she whispered, her voice a reedy plea. "You have to understand."

I didn't understand. I never would. The woman I' d welcomed into my home, my family, was carrying my husband' s child.

A cold wave washed over me. This wasn't just betrayal; it was an insult. A calculated move in a game I hadn't known I was playing.

"Understand what, Kaylene?" My voice was as sharp as broken glass. "That you' ve destroyed everything?"

She flinched, clutching her stomach. "It wasn't supposed to happen this way. Keaton... he said he loved me."

I almost laughed. Keaton loved no one but himself and his ambition.

"He said he would leave you," she pressed, tears welling in her eyes, making them seem even larger, more vulnerable. "He promised."

Promises were cheap. Especially Keaton' s.

"And you believed him?" My gaze was unwavering, piercing through her manufactured innocence. "You truly believed he would trade the Clayton empire for... this?"

Her face crumbled. "He said he needed an heir, Blair. He said you couldn't give him one."

The words hit me like a physical blow. The unspoken, festering wound of our childless marriage, now weaponized against me. My hands clenched under the desk.

"That's a lie," I stated, my voice dangerously low. "We chose not to have children yet. It was a mutual decision."

She averted her gaze, tracing patterns on her belly. "He said you were too focused on the company. That you wouldn't slow down for a family."

The audacity. The sheer, unadulterated gall of both of them.

"Get out," I commanded, my patience worn thin. "Get out of my house."

She looked up, her eyes wide with fresh tears. "But where will I go? I have nowhere."

That wasn't my problem. Not anymore.

"That's something you should have considered before you opened your legs for my husband," I retorted, the words tasting like ash in my mouth.

Her gasp was theatrical. "How can you be so cruel?"

Cruel? I was simply stating facts.

"The cruelty began when you betrayed my trust, Kaylene," I said, rising from my chair. "Now, leave."

She didn't move, her lower lip trembling. "I'm carrying his child, Blair. Your husband' s child. You can' t just... throw us out."

"Watch me." My voice was devoid of emotion.

Just then, the study door opened. Keaton, impeccably dressed as always, stepped in, his eyes scanning the scene. He saw Kaylene' s tear-streaked face, her hand protectively over her stomach, and then his gaze landed on me, cold and calculating.

"What's going on here?" he asked, his tone deceptively calm.

I met his gaze head-on. "Your little secret is out, Keaton."

Kaylene let out a choked sob, burying her face in her hands. Keaton' s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing slightly. He walked over to Kaylene, placing a hand on her shoulder, a gesture that sent a fresh wave of nausea through me.

"Blair," he began, his voice a low, persuasive rumble, "let's talk about this rationally."

Rationally? There was nothing rational about this.

"There's nothing to talk about," I said, my voice steady despite the tremor in my hands. "I want a divorce."

The words hung in the air, heavy and final. Keaton' s hand dropped from Kaylene' s shoulder. His face, usually so composed, fractured for a split second.

"A divorce?" he repeated, as if the concept was foreign to him. "Don't be ridiculous, Blair. We're a team."

A team? He had just stabbed me in the back.

"Some team," I sneered. "You fucked my sister."

Kaylene whimpered, shrinking further into the armchair. Keaton ignored her, his eyes fixed on me. His expression hardened, and a dangerous glint appeared in his eyes.

"You're not leaving me, Blair," he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper, but laced with steel. "Not now, not ever."

He took a step towards me, his presence suddenly overwhelming, suffocating. I stood my ground, though my heart was hammering against my ribs.

"Watch me," I repeated, a challenge in my voice.

He stopped, a muscle twitching in his jaw. Then, with a sudden, violent movement, he swept his arm across my mahogany desk. Papers, pens, my antique inkwell-everything went crashing to the floor with a deafening clatter. The sound echoed in the sudden silence, a stark punctuation mark to his rage.

Kaylene gasped, but I didn't flinch. I had seen this side of Keaton before, in moments of extreme frustration or when his control slipped. It was rarely directed at me, but it was there, simmering beneath the polished veneer.

"You think you can just walk away?" he demanded, his voice rising. "After everything? After I built this empire with you?"

"You built it because my family gave you the opportunity, Keaton," I reminded him, my voice unwavering. "Don't forget your place."

His eyes flashed with pure fury. He turned to Kaylene, his earlier concern for her vanished.

"Get out!" he barked, pointing a finger at her. "Go back to your room. Now!"

Kaylene scrambled out of the armchair, her face pale with terror. She cast a desperate glance at me, a silent plea in her eyes.

"No," I interjected, stepping forward. "She' s not going anywhere with you. Not in this house."

Keaton rounded on me, his anger now fully unleashed. "You think you can control me, Blair? You think you can dictate my life?"

"I think I can dictate who stays in my house, Keaton," I countered, my voice as cold as ice. "And she certainly isn't welcome here anymore."

He stared at me, his chest heaving. For a moment, I thought he might physically lash out. Then, his features smoothed, a calculating glint returning to his eyes.

"Fine," he said, his voice surprisingly calm. "But if she leaves, the child leaves too. And you lose your heir."

My breath hitched. He was using the child as a weapon.

"That child is a consequence of your infidelity, Keaton, not my heir," I spat. "And I want nothing to do with it. Or with you."

He smiled then, a chilling, humorless smile. "You don't mean that, Blair. You're just hurt."

"I mean every word," I said, my voice firm. "And I want you out of my life."

He walked towards me, his steps slow and deliberate. I didn't back down. He reached out, his hand gently cupping my cheek. His touch, once comforting, now felt like a brand.

"My love," he murmured, his thumb stroking my skin. "Don't do this. Don't throw away everything we have."

I recoiled, batting his hand away. "Don't touch me! Your touch makes my skin crawl."

His eyes darkened, hurt flashing through them, quickly replaced by a possessive glint. He grabbed my wrists, his grip unyielding.

"You're mine, Blair," he growled, pulling me closer. "Always have been, always will be."

I struggled against him, a sudden surge of fear mixed with disgust. "Let me go!"

"Never," he whispered, his lips brushing my ear. "You think I'll let you just walk away? After all I've done for you? For us?"

He pulled me into a fierce embrace, his arms like steel bands around me. I thrashed, desperate to escape his hold.

"You're suffocating me!" I gasped, my voice muffled against his chest.

"I' m saving us," he countered, his voice hoarse. "Saving our legacy."

I managed to break free, pushing him away with all my strength. My hands flew up, and before I could even think, I slapped him across the face. The sharp crack echoed in the room.

Keaton froze, his eyes widening in shock. A red mark bloomed on his cheek. For a moment, he simply stared at me, his expression unreadable. Then, a slow, terrifying smile spread across his face.

"You hit me," he said, his voice eerily calm. "My wife hit me."

A shiver ran down my spine. The way he said "my wife" was possessive, menacing.

"I'm not your wife anymore, Keaton," I said, panting. "I want a divorce. I want you out of my life, out of my company, out of everything that is mine."

He chuckled, a low, ominous sound. "You can't get rid of me that easily, Blair. We're bound together. For eternity."

His words sent a fresh wave of terror through me. This wasn't just about a divorce anymore. This was about survival.

He stepped back, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. You want a divorce, you'll get a divorce. But don't think for a second you'll be rid of me or my child."

My stomach churned. The child. The constant, living reminder of his betrayal.

I remembered the early days, the passionate, whirlwind romance. He was the ambitious, charming young man from a troubled background, and I, the sheltered heiress, saw in him a kindred spirit, a drive that mirrored my own. My family had taken him in, mentored him, and I had fallen deeply in love with a man who seemed to understand my world, my burdens. But that man was an illusion. A meticulously crafted lie.

"Why, Keaton?" The question tore through me, raw and desperate. "Why did you do this?"

He looked at me, a flicker of something akin to regret in his eyes, quickly masked. "You wanted to wait for children, Blair. Years you said. I needed an heir. For our future. For the company."

"So you used Kaylene?" I asked, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "My own sister? A child who looks so much like me?"

He didn't deny it. His silence was an admission.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed. It was a message from my private investigator. Pictures. Pictures of Keaton and Kaylene, intimate, undeniable. And another one, a doctor' s report, confirming Kaylene' s advanced pregnancy. My blood ran cold. He had been planning this for months.

A cold, hard resolve settled in my chest. He thought he could outmaneuver me? He thought he could use my family, my heritage, against me? He had underestimated me. Severely.

The Clayton family tradition. The solo sailing trip to the private island sanctuary. A rite of passage, a purification. It had always been a symbol of healing, of beginning anew. Now, it would be my weapon.

Kaylene, that foolish girl, believed she could replace me. She was a pawn, nothing more. A pawn I would use to dismantle Keaton's carefully constructed world. This wasn't just about divorce anymore. It was about reclaiming my life, my dignity, and making them both pay.

"You'll regret this, Keaton," I whispered, my voice laced with a promise of retribution. "You'll regret ever crossing me."