After I had daughter with another man, my chubby left me for good

Blood-red script on ancient parchment branded the Sinclair curse: "Wed a commoner, court death." I, Westbrook's spoiled princess, mocked the warnings-until Lucas Montgomery appeared.

I signed away my birthright without hesitation. In the ancestral hall, I knelt for nine days and nights. Blood from my raw knees seeped into the ancient stone.​

Ninety-nine lashes of the family whip rained down on my back. Yet, as I faced him through a haze of agony, a smile split my bloody lips.

"Lucas," I gasped, spitting out a mouthful of blood, "I'd endure a thousand more to be yours."

The Sinclair elders' laughter echoed like venom in the cold hall.

"You may flee with your mongrel," the matriarch sneered "but first, you'll bear a Sinclair heir-a pure - blooded son sired by the man we choose. ."

From then on, the most frequent words I said to Lucas Montgomery were - "Wait."

The first time, I asked him to wait while I had a child with another man.

I slept with Julian Whitmore thirty-nine times, until I was pregnant with his child.

The second time, I told him to wait again, because the baby was a girl, and the Sinclair family wanted a son.

So, I slept with Julian Whitmore ninety-nine times, until I became pregnant again.

But just when I thought everything was about to settle down, my daughter, who had just had her hundred-day celebration with Julian Whitmore, suddenly fell into a high fever and began vomiting blood. Everyone believed it was Lucas Montgomery who had harmed her.

Julian Whitmore bull, locking his hands around Lucas's throat. "Come for me!" he roared, spittle flying. "How could you harm a child?" Lucas, purple - faced, gasped protests, eyes wide with terror.​

My parents, twisted with rage, lunged like demons. "Our Sinclair heir!" Mother shrieked. "You'll die for this!" Father's shaking fists promised violence.

He was stripped of his clothes and thrown into a cold storage. I stood outside the door. Through the frosted glass, I saw him curled up, trembling, his eyes ful of despair.

I stood outside, my hands trembling uncontrollably, but in the end, I gritted my teeth and spoke: "I said, wait. why hurt my child?"

What a "my child."

I braceleted as Lucas Montgomery bent down in pain, as if his heart was being ripped out. His hollow eyes stared at me, as though he was on the verge of collapsing.

But had he forgotten?

I once knelt in the rain and swore: "Lucas, in this life, I will only have you as my husband."

I'd whispered promises against his chest, breathless after our trysts.

"Only our child will own my heart," I'd sworn, lips lingering on his fingers. "Soon, just us against the world."​

Now. Lucas, his eyes shattered glass, braceleted as I clutched another man's heir.

When the cold storage door opened again, Lucas Montgomery's frozen fingers were tightly clenched in his palms. He didn't look at me.

At that moment, he didn't wait anymore.

He