Married to My Protector: The Patriarch's Love

My office monitor, usually a serene portal to the grand Vance estate gates, offered a peaceful view of my perfectly ordered life.

As Mrs. Vance, managing this dynasty was my daily routine, a far cry from my past as a script supervisor.

Today, the screen showed him: Ethan Vance Jr., the man who shattered my world three years ago.

Three years since he' d abandoned me at our Malibu wedding, turning my fairytale into tabloid fodder.

He looked almost the same, carelessly handsome, but beside him stood Chloe Monroe, her hand possessively resting on a visibly pregnant stomach.

My intercom buzzed with the news: "Mrs. Vance, Mr. Ethan Vance Jr. is at the gate, demanding entry."

He strode in, still full of that entitled swagger, proclaiming his pregnant girlfriend would bear the true Vance heir.

Then, with breathtaking audacity, he smirked and demanded I "make him some coffee," as if I were a mere servant to be dismissed and ordered.

He truly believed he could waltz back in and claim what he considered "his," including a subservient me, as if no time had passed.

The sheer insolence of his return, his assumption that I was still the heartbroken girl he' d scorned, was almost comedic.

My heart, however, thudded with a cold, hard resolve, not the pain of old wounds.

He stood there, completely oblivious, ready to strip me of everything he thought I had.

But he had absolutely no idea about the incredible, unexpected life I had built since he walked away.

Just as his arrogant pronouncements threatened to consume the opulent living room, the immediate future of the Vance legacy ran towards me.

Small feet pitter-pattered from the hallway, followed by a cheerful shout: "Mommy! Mommy, can we go to the park?"

A two-year-old boy, with a shock of dark hair and the unmistakable Vance family blue eyes, ran straight into my waiting arms.

"This," I calmly stated, looking directly into Ethan Jr.'s now horrified face, "is your half-brother, Leo Vance."

The security camera feed on my office monitor usually showed the manicured front gates of the Vance estate, a silent, green sentry.

Today, it showed Ethan Vance Jr.

Three years.

Three years since he' d left me at the altar of our Malibu wedding, a spectacle for the press, a deep wound for me.

He looked almost the same, still handsome in that careless way, but a little rougher around the edges.

Beside him stood Chloe Monroe, her hand resting possessively on her visibly pregnant stomach.

My intercom buzzed. "Mrs. Vance, Mr. Ethan Vance Jr. is at the gate, he's demanding entry."

My heart gave a dull thud, not of pain anymore, but of something cold and hard.

"Let them in, David," I said, my voice even. "Escort them to the main living room, I'll be down shortly."

I smoothed down the silk of my dress, a dress Ethan Sr. had picked out for me.

He was in New York for the week, meetings about a new studio acquisition.

He wouldn't expect this.

I walked out of the study, the study that used to be Ethan Jr.'s playroom, then his teenage den, now my sanctuary where I reviewed scripts and managed household affairs, a far cry from my old life as a script supervisor.

Downstairs, Ethan Jr. was already pacing, his energy too big for the opulent room.

Chloe was perched on the edge of an antique chaise lounge, looking around with an air of someone assessing future property.

He stopped when he saw me.

A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face before his usual arrogance settled back in.

"Sarah," he said, his voice a little too loud. "Took you long enough."

Chloe offered a saccharine smile. "Hello, Sarah. It' s been a while."

I nodded, keeping my expression neutral. "Ethan. Chloe. What brings you here after all this time?"

Ethan Jr. gestured impatiently towards Chloe' s belly.

"Isn't it obvious? Chloe's having my first child, the heir to the Vance legacy."

He looked around the room, a smirk playing on his lips.

"I figured you' d still be here, Sarah. Dad always had a soft spot, probably let you stay on. Look, things got messy, I know."

He took a step closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a grand secret.

"Chloe and I, we're back to claim what's ours. You can be... around, if you behave. Make us some coffee, will you? It' s been a long drive."

The sheer audacity of it almost made me laugh.

He truly believed I was still the heartbroken, humiliated girl he'd abandoned.

He had no idea.

I walked over to the tea service already laid out on the mahogany table, a habit Ethan Sr. and I shared in the afternoons.

I poured myself a cup of Earl Grey, the familiar scent calming.

"Why would I do that, Ethan?" I asked, taking a slow sip.

He scoffed, a harsh, grating sound. "Because she's carrying my child, the future head of this studio! My son. Or daughter. The point is, it's a Vance."

Chloe preened, stroking her stomach. "He's right, Sarah. This baby changes everything."

Just then, the pitter-patter of small feet echoed from the hallway, followed by a cheerful shout.

"Mommy! Mommy, can we go to the park? You promised!"

A small boy, no more than two and a half, with a shock of dark hair and Ethan Sr.'s distinct blue eyes, ran into the room, straight towards me.

Leo. My son.

Ethan Jr. stared, his jaw slack, his arrogant posture deflating.

Color drained from his face. "Sarah... who is this kid?"

Chloe looked equally stunned, her perfectly painted lips parted in surprise.

I set my teacup down and smiled, a genuine, warm smile that reached my eyes.

I scooped Leo into my arms, kissing his soft hair. "This," I said, my voice clear and steady, "is your half-brother, Leo Vance."

Ethan Jr. recoiled as if struck. "Half-brother? What are you talking about? My father only has me! This... this imposter!"

His face contorted with rage. "You cheated on me, Sarah, didn't you? While we were engaged! And now you're trying to pass off some random kid as his? As a Vance?"

Chloe, recovering quickly, jumped to his defense, her voice shrill.

"Sarah, how could you? Betraying Ethan Jr. like that, and now trying to slander Mr. Vance Sr.'s good name! It's disgusting!"

I held Leo a little tighter, shielding him from their venom.

"Leo is indeed my son," I clarified, looking directly at Ethan Jr. "My son with Ethan Sr. The day you went on your 'spiritual retreat' to 'find yourself' with Chloe, I found a real husband. Your father."

The silence in the room was thick, heavy.

Ethan Jr.' s eyes darted between me, Leo, and the opulent surroundings that now clearly belonged to me, not as a charity case, but as the lady of the house.

The realization, slow and horrifying for him, began to dawn.