Chapter 3 Shattered Loyalties

Marceline Pov

I stepped out of my car and walked into the mansion, trying to steady my steps. My legs were still shaking from last night. From what that man had done to me.

I could still feel him... his touch, his strength, the way he had taken me again and again in different positions until I almost forgot my own name. He told me I would feel good and I did. More than I had ever imagined.

"Where are you coming from?"

The first thing I heard as soon as I entered was Philip's angry voice.

I didn't answer immediately. My eyes went to my son, Roman, standing beside him in his school uniform.

"Mummy!" Roman called, running into my arms.

"My baby." I bent down, hugging him tightly. God, I had missed him.

"You're ready for school?" I asked with a smile.

Roman nodded brightly.

"You've eaten, right?" I pressed.

"Yes," he replied quickly.

"Let me see your bag and lunch box," I said, taking them to check. I needed to make sure he had enough food and snacks for the day.

"Don't worry, Mummy. Aunt Mary prepared me very well," Roman said proudly.

"That's great. Your Aunt is the best." I kissed his forehead warmly.

"Sister, you're here." I turned and saw my younger sister, Mary, walking toward me.

"Thank you, Mary," I said sincerely.

"No thanks between us," she replied gently. "I'll drop him at school."

I smiled at her. I had called Mary yesterday, asking her to take care of Roman and prepare him for school in case I didn't make it home.

"Let's go, Roman," Mary said, taking his hand.

"Bye, Mummy! Bye, Daddy!" Roman waved as they left.

"Bye, sweetheart," I said with a smile full of love.

"Take care, Rome," Philip added with a forced smile.

But the moment the door closed, his smile vanished. His face hardened.

"Can you tell me where you're coming from?" he demanded again.

I took a slow breath, forcing down the anger burning inside me. The fact that he, of all people, dared to question me was almost laughable. But this wasn't the time. Not yet.

"At Celesta's place," I replied calmly.

"You stayed at another woman's home until you forgot you have your own house?" His voice rose.

"Can you stop shouting?" I snapped. "Aren't I here now?" I turned and started up the stairs. I was too tired for this. All I wanted was a bath and sleep. I hadn't rested at all last night... that man hadn't let me.

"Stop right there!" Philip barked.

I paused.

"You slept there and forgot you have a son? He had to eat and prepare for school without you!"

I turned sharply, my patience gone. "Isn't he your son too? Can't you take care of him for just one day?"

His eyes widened. He was stunned. I had never raised my voice to him-or to anyone. But today, it erupted out of me.

"Is raising him meant for me alone?" I asked bitterly, walking into the kitchen.

"What?" Philip muttered, still shocked, trailing after me.

"I'm saying, taking care of him isn't my job alone. He's your son too." I grabbed a glass of water, drinking to steady myself. "I didn't know how to raise a child either, but I learned. You can learn too. Learn to make him breakfast, learn to take care of

him."

I set the glass down and walked upstairs without looking back.

Behind me, Philip's face darkened. "Learn to cook? Why should I? You must be out of your mind!" he shouted, storming after me.

"And what are you trying to say? Does it mean you'll be staying out again?" he demanded as we entered the bedroom.

"Definitely," I answered coldly, before walking straight into the bathroom and locking the door in his face.

Inside, I turned on the tap to fill the bathtub, then walked slowly to the mirror. I stared at my reflection.

The events of last night came rushing back. The stranger's touch. The forbidden pleasure. I had done what Philip did. I had cheated. And I could admit it-yes, it felt heavenly. But now, reality was pounding at my door.

I closed my eyes for a moment, then opened them again, my expression hard.

Some minutes later,

I walked out of the bathroom in my bathrobe. Philip was gone. He had probably stormed off to work after all his shouting. I had still heard his voice echoing through the walls while I was inside.

I scorned. Who cares?

I went to my bag, pulled out my phone, and switched it on. It wasn't off because of low battery-I had shut it off last night.

The screen lit up with messages flooding in. I wasn't in the mood to check them all. I was about to toss the phone onto the table when one particular message caught my eye.

It was from Celesta-my childhood friend. She and I had been together since diapers, more like sisters. Anastasia had only come into the picture in college.

"Remember to pick me up at the airport by 10 a.m. tomorrow. Love you."

"Oh shit," I cursed aloud, my eyes darting to the clock on the wall. 9 o'clock. I sighed in relief. Still time.

I had completely forgotten I was supposed to pick Celesta up today. Immediately, I rushed to the closet and threw on clothes. Sleep was no longer an option.

Within a minute, I was ready. I grabbed my keys and drove out of the mansion.

It would take me forty minutes to reach the airport. Knowing Celesta's impatient nature, I sped. She would curse me heavily if I was even one minute late.

I arrived at 10:05 a.m. and spotted her already waiting outside.

Celesta climbed into the car, rubbing her hands. "You're late, Marc. It's so cold outside."

"It's just five minutes," I said, starting the engine.

"It's still late," she teased with a small smile.

I only shook my head.

"Let's go grab something to eat, I'm starving," she said. "The airport food wasn't my taste." She added quickly when she saw me about to protest. She already knew what I would say.

Soon, we were seated in a five-star restaurant-of course, one that matched Celesta's heiress taste.

"What's wrong, Marc?" she asked, studying me closely.

I kept quiet, eating slowly.

She didn't look away. She just kept watching until I gave in.

"Fine," I said with a shrug. "Philip is having an affair with Anastasia."

Celesta blinked. "Come again?"

"Philip is sleeping with Anastasia," I repeated, sipping my drink calmly.

"Did you say Anastasia? The Anastasia I know?"

"The very one." My teeth clenched. "Our friend Anastasia. I

caught them yesterday."

"I never considered her my friend," Celesta snapped quickly. But her face was still full of shock. "But that's not the point here."

Silence stretched between us for a moment.

"I'm so sorry, Marceline," she said finally, her voice soft with sadness.

I only nodded, keeping my eyes steady on my glass.

"I told you this, Marc," her tone hardened, anger flaring. "Never trust people from a low background. Their character is as low as where they come from. Most of them have no value, no class. They always bite the hand that fed them. But you

didn't listen. You brought Anastasia into our circle. And now, see what happened." Her hand trembled slightly with rage.

"I never liked her from the very beginning, but you insisted on being friends with her," Celesta

continued, her voice shaking now. "That bitch better not let me see her."

I stayed silent. My face calm, but my silence sharp.

"So what do you plan to do?" Celesta asked softly after a while. "Should I draft the divorce papers?"

I raised a brow slightly, a small scoff leaving my lips before I could stop it.

Then my gaze drifted out the window, distant, unreadable.