The Heiress He Abandoned

Leah

It was already past midnight, and Lucas still wasn’t home.

The clock on the wall ticked loudly in the quiet living room, each second making the silence feel heavier. I sat on the edge of the sofa with my phone clutched tightly in my hand, staring at Lucas’s contact on the screen.

I pressed call again.

The phone rang once… then the call failed.

My stomach tightened.

I tried again.

Still nothing.

A small sigh escaped my lips as I lowered the phone slowly. Lucas was always busy, always working late, but tonight something about the silence made my chest feel uneasy.

I stood up and wrapped my arms around myself, trying to calm the strange worry rising inside me.

Maybe his phone battery died, I told myself.

But the thought didn’t comfort me.

Unable to sit still anymore, I walked toward the balcony and pushed the glass door open. Cool night air brushed against my face as I stepped outside.

From here, I could see the long driveway stretching from the iron gates to the mansion entrance. The streetlights cast a soft glow over the empty road.

I leaned slightly on the balcony railing, squinting into the distance.

Maybe Lucas would drive in any moment.

Maybe I was worrying for nothing.

Just then, the sharp sound of heels clicking against the floor broke the quiet.

“Well… look at you.”

I didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

Rebecca Miller.

Lucas’s younger sister stepped onto the balcony, her arms crossed as she looked at me like I was something unpleasant she had stepped on.

“Standing here like a desperate wife waiting for her husband?” she mocked.

I swallowed and turned to face her.

“It’s late,” I said quietly.

Rebecca let out a laugh.

“Please. Don’t act like you care about him.”

Her eyes slowly traveled over me, full of clear contempt.

“You’re only here because of his money.”

The words stung, but I forced myself to stay calm.

Over the past three years, I had learned that arguing with Rebecca only made things worse.

She walked past me and leaned lazily against the balcony railing.

“If you’re done pretending to be a loving wife,” she said casually, “go to the kitchen and make the chocolate dessert I like.”

I blinked.

“It’s already midnight,” I said gently.

Rebecca turned her head slowly and raised an eyebrow.

“And?”

Her tone hardened.

“You live in my brother’s house. The least you can do is something useful.”

My fingers curled slightly at my sides.

For a moment, I wanted to say something. Anything.

But the words never left my mouth.

Instead, I simply nodded.

“Okay.”

Rebecca smirked like she had just won something.

I turned and quietly walked back inside.

The bright lights of the kitchen made my eyes sting slightly after the darkness outside. I tied an apron around my waist and began preparing the dessert Rebecca liked.

Melted chocolate.

Cream.

Strawberries.

My hands moved automatically as I worked,