The rest of the meeting dragged on, but without Roman, he had something to attend to and left first.
"I promise to protect her," Collin vowed, his voice firm. And Patricia could only watch, helpless, as he made the same promise he once whispered to her… now meant for someone else. He didn't even give her a chance to explain, didn't ask a single question, just moved on like she meant nothing.
And her sister, who had cried so bitterly just days ago now sat grinning from ear to ear, clinging to him like he was going to disappear if she left him. Patricia should have known better. The tears had been a performance. Clara had never lost at anything before, and she wasn't going to start now.
Unable to bear the sight any longer, Patricia slipped away when no one was watching. Thankfully, everyone was too consumed with their own excitement to notice her retreat.
Back in her room, she locked the door behind her and collapsed onto the floor, her body trembling as the tears came flooding out, raw and uncontrollable. Everything she had carefully planned had crumbled right before her eyes. All that remained was her dream job, if it was even still hers. She hadn't checked in for two days and they might have fired her already.
The man she was supposed to be married to was now someone else's. And she…she was nothing more than a pawn being offered up as a second wife to a man who couldn't care less about her. His heir? The thought made her laugh bitterly through the tears. The joke was on them, she would never let Roman close enough for that. If they wanted a child so badly, let Clara give them one.
The following morning, Patricia packed her belongings by herself. Not a single hand lifted to help which was not surprising, given her stepmother's influence. But she didn't care. She had no plans to ever return to this house again. And now that she was no longer carrying their name, she was finally free to start over, just as soon as she found a way to annul the nightmare of a marriage.
It only took ten minutes to pack everything because she had next to nothing. No one had ever cared enough to buy her new clothes. The only time she got any was when the old woman shopped for her granddaughters and threw in a few items out of obligation. College had forced her to buy some of her own, but with what little money she had, it was never enough.
She loaded her things into the car the old woman had unexpectedly given her. Just as she was about to board, she heard her mother's voice.
"Patricia!" Her mother ran up, calling out like it meant something.
But Patricia didn't stop. She got into the car, shutting the door on whatever goodbye her mother had prepared. "Let's go," she told the driver firmly.
As the car pulled away, she picked up her phone that was now back in her arms and switched it on. A flood of missed calls appeared on the screen.
Over a hundred from Zara.
Somehow, that number, that simple proof that someone still cared, managed to pull a small smile to her face.
Her family might have failed her, but at least she had a friend who would never give up on her. Going to her call log, Patricia immediately dialed Zara's number, which connected within seconds.
"Pat! Tell me, where are you? I am coming right away!" Zara shouted frantically.
"On my way to my husband's house," Patricia replied, letting out a laugh, dry and hollow at how pathetic she sounded even to herself.
"What the? Have you gotten a divorce?" Zara asked, clearly confused.
Patricia opened her mouth to respond, but before she could speak, the driver interrupted. "We are here, Miss."
"I will call you later, Zara. Just wait for me," she said quickly, then ended the call.
She stepped out of the car and walked to the gate, scanning the wall for a doorbell. There had to be some way to enter, right?
"Don't know how to ring a doorbell?" A voice asked from behind her. She turned, startled, only to find Collin standing there. His hair was tousled, his face slightly smudged and he looked like he had just come from a club. His shirt was wrinkled, his clothes a mess, and Patricia didn't need to guess what he had been doing.
Turning away, she muttered, "I am fine, thank you." But then she frowned, registering something odd. Why was he here? At Roman's place?
She turned back to him just in time to spot his car parked just behind theirs, and realization dawned on her. He lived here?
"I live here too," he said casually, moving past her to press a doorbell on the far end of the gate. Only then did she notice it, sleek and modern, nothing like what she was used to.
"Thank you," she murmured, lowering her head before walking back to the car. When the gate opened automatically, her driver pulled in. Glancing back, she saw Collin drive off toward another building deeper within the estate. So… she would be seeing him often? What could be the odds?
At the entrance to Roman's house, a maid was already waiting.
"Miss Patricia, welcome. I will be in charge of your needs from now on, you can always call for me," the maid said with a polite smile. Patricia simply nodded in response.
"What about him?" She asked, her voice low, praying Roman wasn't home.
"I haven't seen Mr. Roman today, Miss. But by now, he should be at work," the maid replied.
Patricia nodded in relief.
"You will be staying downstairs. The entire floor has been arranged for you," the maid explained as she helped with Patricia's bags.
"Oh… and Roman? Where does he stay?" She asked, feigning casual interest though her only intent was to avoid running into him.
The maid smiled knowingly, mistaking Patricia's question for curiosity. "Mr. Roman always stays upstairs, Miss. But if you would like to stay there too, you can always let him know."
"No! I am fine here," Patricia said quickly, waving her hand in dismissal. "I actually prefer staying downstairs. The arrangement is perfect."