MY CEO REGRETS: CHASING HIS HEIRESS WIFE.

~ LYRA ~

I lay on the bed, my head facing the white ceiling of the hospital, the antiseptic smell and the beeping of equipment filled the room.

The weight of Papa's death had finally landed me in the hospital after days of crying and mourning, coupled with skipped meals, my system finally broke down and I didn't need anyone to tell me I needed to see the doctor before it got worse.

"Congratulations Mrs White, you are a month in already!" Dr Paulin's voice broke in bringing me back from my reverie.

I was so lost that I didn't even hear her coming in.

Wiping the tears on my eyes from slipping down my cheeks with my hands, I sat up right.

"What do you say Doc?" I asked in disbelief, as I caught the joyful grin on her face, my eye balls were already filled with tears and my heart was beating faster waiting to confirm what she said.

"Yes, you heard me right Mrs White, you are pregnant and the symptoms you are experiencing are as a result of the growth of the baby, would you like to confirm with the probe?" She said as she lay me down on the bed and handed me the device shifting the screen to my view.

"Omg!" I gasped in shock, the tear I was holding back finally poured down, as I saw the little life inside me, my vision blur for a second.

I couldn't believe I was finally going to carry my child, after years of waiting patiently and feeling like a disappointment to Lucian.

"In a few months from now, you are finally going to become a mother,"

"Finally," I whispered, smiling like a fool from ear to ear as I looked at the screen with joy, I just can't wait to tell Lucian, or should I call Aryan first I thought?.

"Calm down, Mrs White I know you can't wait to share such great news with Mr Lucian, but you will have to meet me in my office, for some advice concerning your health and that of your baby." Dr Paulin said as she unplugged the device, I was so carried away with how Lucian would react to the news that I barely even listened to what she was saying.

I quickly adjusted my dress as I got down from the bed, feeling light and weightless. I followed Dr. Paulin blindly, my hand already resting protectively over my still-flat belly, a gentle caress for the little life inside me. My heart was a drum of pure, overwhelming joy.

I nodded along to Dr. Paulin's serious instructions about stress and health, barely registering the specifics, the news humming too loudly in my ears. I took the list of medications and the test results from her, tucking them into my purse, hardly noticing the paper.

My skin prickled with nervous energy as I exited the hospital, the kind of nervousness that precedes life-altering good news. I just couldn't wait to make the announcement.

I hurriedly got into my car, letting out a deep sigh of relief as I settled in, my phone buzzing stopped me right when I was about to fasten my seat belt, with excitement I rushed my bag, 'could this be Lucian finally returning my call', I hoped, but to my greatest shock it was a reminder of our three years anniversary.

My heart melted, sinking in despair, as I read the heading of the reminder "Just Give Me Three Years."

I sat there, the weight of the reminder crushing me. Papa had never supported my marriage to Lucian. His dearest wish was for me to take hold as CEO of his company, but I was so blindly lost in love that marrying Lucian was the only path I could see.

To appease him, I made a heartbreaking agreement: if my marriage failed within three years, I would return to manage his legacy.

Now, Papa was gone, unable to witness me carrying Lucian's child. Who could have ever believed that our turbulent marriage would not only survive this long, but also be blessed with a baby?

I pressed the phone, still displaying the haunting reminder, against my stomach. My heart sank, heavy and deep, as I tried to take in the heat of this news alongside the shadow of our past arrangement.

My life with Lucian was far from the fairy tale I'd imagined, often marked by his chilling distance.

Yet, I had fought, I had endured, and I had pulled through. Today marked our three-year anniversary, and with this incredible news, I refused to let any past unhappiness ruin it.

Wiping the tears of my face and getting a hold of myself, I swiftly pulled over from the parking lot and drove off.

I opened the door hurriedly, staggering slightly under the weight. On my right, the anniversary cake and my purse pulled me down; on my left, the bottle of chilled champagne I'd picked up downhill was heavy. I was bent and off-balance, and I could barely walk straight. All I wanted was to drop this precious, heavy cargo and finally share my news.

"Lucian, I have got great news for you-, just as I was about to drop the word, immediately my mouth paused and everything seemed to be in slow motion, it was Lucian on the sofa with Aryan, my best friend. Naked

They weren't hiding. They were simply... there. Lucian, my husband of three years, was on the sofa, and Aryan, my best friend, draped across him, her face nestled against his neck. The sight wasn't dramatic, it was intimate, a quiet, casual violation of everything sacred.

"What is the meaning of this!" The words were torn from me, a raw, strangled sound. The cake, the bag, the bottle, everything I held, crashed to the polished floor with sickening thuds, the glass of the champagne bottle shattering instantly.

I stood paralyzed, engulfed by the noise and the mess, unable to process anything beyond the naked tableau before me. I didn't know how to react.

"It is exactly what you are seeing, bitch," Aryan spat, her tone harsh and alien, nothing like the friend I had known since childhood.

Lucian stood up, pulling his pants on, and Aryan stood beside him, her smug smile a punch to the gut. The air was thick with the weight of their betrayal, heavy enough to choke me. I felt a numbness creeping in, like my body was trying to protect me from the pain.

"You lying wretch, acting like you didn't first cheat on me. Where are you coming from?" he demanded, not meeting my gaze, his movement sickeningly casual.

"What are you talking about, Lucian? I just got back from the hospital."

"Don't insult my intelligence. How do you explain these pictures and messages? Oh, you think I'm a fool?" Lucian spat, flicking several photos toward the coffee table. They showed a woman in one of my dresses, clearly photoshopped, locked in a kiss with a strange man.

I didn't need to look twice to confirm the deceit. My blood ran cold at his calculated cruelty. "This is obviously not me. It's a setup, Lucian. You have been the only man I have ever known or loved. Don't tell me you believed this trash?"

"My dear friend Lyra, your evil reign has come to an end. I am done lying and covering up for you. So I'm sorry about that." Aryan said, wrapping an arm around Lucian's bare waist, a gesture of ownership that made bile rise in my throat.

I couldn't breathe. My gaze snapped from Lucian to Aryan, the name I had almost called first with my amazing news.

"Aryan, what are you even talking about? What reign? We were friends! Since childhood! How could you do this?" My voice was a shaky whisper, laced with disbelief.

"Oh, Lyra, you've always been so naive. Did you really think Lucian stayed because he loved you? Please stop all that. News flash: the marriage failed a long time ago. We just sped up the timeline."

"She's right, Lyra. The only reason I put up with your constant mourning and the lack of intimacy was the timeline. Papa's ridiculous three-year ultimatum. Now he's dead, and the company is yours to inherit, right? Well, you can run it. Because I want a divorce."

"A divorce?" The word felt foreign and huge in my mouth. I took a step back, hitting the door frame.

But our anniversary is today! I was going to tell him the good news! That I was pregnant.

"No," I whispered, the numbness finally breaking, replaced by a surge of white-hot fury. My fingers clenched into fists, digging my nails into my palms.

I touched the curled doctor's note in my purse, the secret of the pregnancy, a fragile shield against the devastation, and the sudden realization of its timing was a cruel twist of the knife. I looked at Lucian, then at Aryan, their faces blurred by a fresh wave of tears that I furiously blinked away.

I turned, my legs moving on autopilot, carrying me past the shattered cake and the broken secrets.

I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I just kept walking, one foot in front of the other, leaving the house, the anniversary, and the horrific scene behind me, refusing to accept that the joyful life I had an hour ago was now a lie.

~ LYRA ~

The priest voice was a low, steady drone, like a boring motor running too far away to matter. I leaned into my brother, letting the solidness of his shoulder be the only thing holding me upright.

The wind gusted, whipping the ends of my veil across my mouth. It tasted like dust and cheap wool. I wished it would blow harder, flatten me, rip the black dress right off and expose the lie of my composure.

It was Papa's funeral, the day he was finally going to be laid to rest. I should be weeping, convulsing, tearing my hair for Papa. Instead, I'm just... cold. And the cold wasn't the air's fault. It was the glacier of disbelief that formed in my chest from yesterday which was my anniversary.

Thank God for Michael, who bailed me out from the bar. If not, I would have drunk myself to a stupor after such a horrible scene.

The gathering was full, everyone was present yet it felt incomplete, my eyes kept on hovering each moment hoping to see Lucian in the crowd. He was supposed to be standing next to me, but he is nowhere to be found.

I had already given up, when I noticed a ripple in the back of the crowd. A sudden, noticeable shift. Whispers began to spread, hushed at first, then growing bolder.

Heads turned, and a few people even craned their necks to get a better look. My gaze followed theirs, curiosity warring with a growing sense of dread.

My breath hitched at the sight of Lucian, and walking next to him was my so-called best friend, Aryan. They looked like a nearly wedded couple on their way to a honeymoon. The sight made my heart give a painful lurch, a mixture of anger and utter confusion.

Why was he here late? Why is she still with him? Was he really serious about yesterday? I still chose not to believe it, but seeing them felt as if the floor had suddenly dissolved, leaving my stomach to lurch into a cold, empty void. The air in my lungs turned to lead, heavy, unbreathable, and stagnant. I stood boiling in rage, holding myself back from walking up to them and causing a scene.

Soon the funeral ended in a blur, and right when. Lucian was about to slip away with Aryan, I hurriedly confronted them knowing fully well that I couldn't let it go.

"Lucian, why did you come here late? " I choked at him right when he was about to get into his car.

"What do you want, Lyra?" His tone was flat, chilling.

My anger flared. "What do I want? What was that, Lucian? Where have you been since all this while I have been calling your line yet you chose to ignore my calls? And now showing up late, to Papa's funeral, with Aryan. What were you thinking?" My voice trembled.

He sighed. "It doesn't matter, the last time I checked the old man is late and takes no note of time anymore..and also about Aryan she is the only lady I see who is worth me." He added.

"It doesn't matter?" I scoffed, a bitter laugh catching in my throat. "Papa's funeral doesn't matter? What's gotten into you Lucian?" I asked, gazing at him.

He finally met my gaze, a cold resolve in his eyes as he stepped closer, his voice dropping. "Lyra just like I have said before, I want a divorce. I'm not in this marriage anymore."

'Divorce?' The world tilted. "Don't tell me you are seriously believing those pictures from yesterday?"

I stared at him, shattered, tears streaming. "No," I whispered, broken. "No. You can't be serious. This can't be happening. Not now. How could you even... how could you bring this up today?"

"We just laid Papa to rest, Lucian! All this can wait, please, let's talk this out. Whatever is going on, we can solve this together. Just the two of us." I pleaded with him. My voice was barely a whisper, alien even to my own ears, like my whole world was just, you know, falling apart right there and then.

He was being deceived by the woman I called my best friend, the woman I confided in, and I wasn't going to back down without a fight. I wasn't going to let my marriage go down the drain, because of Aryan's jealousy and evil.

"I've wasted enough time on you. Don't come near my house again. My lawyer is already drafting the papers; expect them by the end of the week." His gaze curdled with a disgust so visible it made my heart recoil.

"But I'm carrying your baby, two weeks already." I said, even though I knew it wasn't the right time to drop that news.

His expression didn't change, but his eyes seemed to flicker with a hint of surprise before hardening again

"Pregnant...so you think I would believe that?" he said coldly. "You and I know that child is not mine, so you'd better take the bastard child to the rightful owner."

I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. I had expected.. Some spark of compassion? A glimmer of responsibility? But his reaction was ice cold, and it terrified me.

"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "This is our child we're talking about. Our baby."

"You're making a mistake, Lucian. Don't

let Aryan's lies ruin three years of what we've built with each other. You're letting her ruin our marriage."

"Please, you're not like this. You know me. You know the truth. You've seen me through the good times and bad. You've shared every part of yourself with me, don't let her ruin everything we've worked so hard for. Please, believe me."

I begged, holding his hands in mine, but he

ripped them out of my grasp.

"You think begging is going to get you anywhere? Well, guess what, it won't. The sooner you accept the fact that you've lost, the better for both of us." He stated.

"But Lucian, the baby," I began, heart pounding.

"I don't care what you do with it. Get rid of it. That child isn't mine," he snapped, sliding into his car and slamming the door, leaving me hanging.

"Please, Lucian, don't, I'm the woman you love, the woman you married," I pleaded, lunging after him. A searing pain ripped through my stomach, and I felt myself splinter like glass.

My knees gave way. One moment I was standing; the next I was a crumpled heap on the cold floor, the sting of the grass grounding me in a nightmare I couldn't wake from.

A faint, familiar voice cut through the haze. "Sis...?" My brother Michael's face swam into view, eyes wide with panic, his hand hovering near my shoulder as if afraid to touch me. Behind him, my mother's voice, distant yet urgent, called my name, pulling me toward something I could no longer see.

The world narrowed to a single, blinding point of darkness. The murmurs from the crowd grew louder, a frantic rhythm that matched the storm inside me.

Then everything went black.

~ LYRA ~

Laying flat on a cold, white floor. The fluorescent lights flicker like dying fireflies, casting a harsh, flat glow. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block the blinding light. My head throbs in time with the steady beep of a monitor somewhere behind me.

"Where am I?" I tried to sit up, but the room tilted. My legs are tangled in a thin hospital gown that clings to my skin, and the sharp, chemical smell slams into me, this is a hospital.

"What am I doing here?" I pushed myself up, heart hammering, and froze when the nurse's steady gaze met mine.

"Thank goodness you're awake!" she said, pressing my shoulder gently, urging me to sit back. "You're fine, Ma, just relax, while I inform the doctor."

Where am I? How did I get here? The questions swirled in the fog of my mind until a jagged memory pierced through, sharp as a blade. My hands flew instinctively to my stomach.

"My baby?" My voice was a hollow rasp. "How is my baby?"

"Hey... hey, sis."

The voice came from the shadows at the edge of the bed. Michael. His face drifted into the light, his eyes bloodshot and swollen. He reached out, his hand hovering near my shoulder as if I were made of glass that had already shattered.

"You're okay," he whispered, though his voice broke. "You're in the hospital. You... you passed out. Lyra, it was a miscarriage."

Miscarriage. The word didn't just hurt; it leveled me. It was a physical blow to the chest that stole my breath. My secret weapon against Lucian, the only leverage I had left to force him to look at me, the only piece of my future that felt real, was gone.

"No," I whispered, my voice trembling. "This isn't real. It's a dream. Tell me it's a dream."

"I'm so sorry, Lyra."

"I wasn't ready!" I shrieked, the sound echoing off the cold, tiled walls. "Not now! Not when everything is already burning!"

The tears didn't just fall; they erupted. Hot, relentless, and animalistic. I curled into a ball, clutching the hospital sheets as if they could hold my life together. "I can't do this," I choked out through the heaving sobs.

"I can't survive this, Michael."

His hand tightened on my shoulder, his grip the only thing keeping me from floating away into the dark. "You have to," he said, his voice hoarse with his own grief.

"For Papa. For yourself. For the future he wanted for you. Please, Lyra... stay with me."

A soft knock at the door signaled the entrance of Dr. Paulin. He approached with a heavy, practiced sympathy. "I'm sorry, Mrs. White," he said quietly. "We can't give you a definitive reason for the loss yet. But you must be gentle with yourself. You've just come out of a coma; your body is incredibly weak."

Mrs. White. The name felt like a brand.

"I know the reason," I spat out, the words tasting like bile.

The doctor paused, but I wasn't looking at him. I was looking at the ghosts of the last three years.

"It was him," I whispered, my crying suddenly stopping, replaced by a terrifying, cold clarity.

"He caused all of this. I gave him everything. I buried my career, my dreams, my soul into that marriage. And he did me dirty. He broke me on the worst day of my life, right after Papa died."

I fell back into Michael's arms, but the warmth was gone. I felt hollow. Every bit of the reality I had built for three years had been stripped away. I had no husband. No home. No father. And now, no child.

I was left with nothing.

And in that emptiness, a new fire began to crawl up my throat. It wasn't the heat of sadness anymore; it was the frost of a promise.

They think they've left me with nothing, I thought, staring at the sterile white wall until my eyes burned. But they've just given me the freedom to burn their entire world down...

The car slowed, then stopped. The mansion loomed ahead, the place I once called home, and the sight sent a shiver down my spine, as if every memory was waiting to crawl out of the shadows.

"Are you okay, sis? Are you sure about this?" Michael asked, his voice low. He turned off the engine and the sudden quiet let his worry flicker into view.

I didn't say a word. I just gave him a look, one pitiful, weary stare that said everything I felt.

"It's fine... Just a few minutes, then I'll be back."

I slipped out of the car, my feet hitting the gravel with a quiet thud. Inside, the living room smelled different, the air thick with someone else's perfume.

Aryan lounged on the sofa, a bikini barely covering her, a glass of wine in hand, laughing and having a good time all alone. The sight made my stomach twist with disgust.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice sliced through the silence of the foyer, sharp and uninvited. "This is my house now. Not yours."

I looked at her, my supposed best friend standing in the middle of the home I had built.

"The last time I checked, you're the only intruder here." I kept my voice steady, though my chest burned. "I should have seen it years ago. The way you tried to talk me out of marrying Lucian... and then the way you lingered, waiting for our anniversary to finally strike."

She didn't flinch. Instead, she let out a slow, chilling smile that reached from ear to ear, a twisted, Joker-like grin. "You were just too blind to notice that Lucian was never yours. I simply helped him realize the truth."

"I should have known," I whispered, the realization tasting like poison. "All those years playing the 'loyal friend' while you were just a desperate, hollow shell."

"I did what I had to do," she snapped, her eyes flashing. "To protect the only man I've ever loved."

"Protecting him?" A harsh, jagged laugh escaped my throat as hot tears finally blurred my vision.

"You destroyed a home! You're a liar and a thief!"

She opened her mouth to retort, but I held up a hand, cutting her off. "I'm not here to trade insults with you. I'm here for my things. Then I'm leaving you two betraying bastards to rot in this house together."

I turned toward the stairs.

"Where do you think you're going?" she shrieked, lunging forward to block my path. "You have no right to be here! Lucian isn't home,"

I brushed past her, my momentum carrying me up the stairs before she could grab my arm. I burst into the master bedroom. To my surprise and perhaps my final heartbreak, my things were already packed. Neatly. Efficiently. As if I had already been erased.

I grabbed my suitcases, but paused at the vanity. I looked at the diamond ring on my finger, the weight of a thousand broken promises. I twisted it off, the metal feeling cold against my skin, and clicked it down onto the marble shelf.

As I hauled my bags back to the landing, she was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, arms crossed. "I hope you didn't take anything that wasn't yours," she sneered.

I stopped at the final step, inches from her face. "I'm not you, darling. I never could be."

"Loser," she spat. "Don't show your ugly face here again."

I leaned in, my voice dropping to a low, lethal silk. "Oh, I won't. But I promise you this: when you see me again, you'll be the one begging for mercy. I am going to make your lives a living hell. Tell my 'husband' he'd better start looking over his shoulder."

The smugness on her face wavered, replaced by a flicker of genuine shock.

"I wish you both exactly what you deserve," I said, stepping past her and out the front door without looking back.