ISADORA’S POV

The soft rustle of fabric followed me as I stepped into the changing room, the red dress clinging to my arms like silk. It was thest one my mom had picked out–her favorite, she said. A deep crimson shade with a high slit that traced all the way up my thigh and a backless design that left nothing bto /bthe imagination. The dress shimmered beneath the lighting, and as I turned to face the mirror, I couldn’t deny it–I looked amazing.

The fabric hugged my curves in all the right ces, the neckline plunging just enough to be daring without screaming desperation. For a second, I bdidn’t /beven feel like myself. I looked… powerful. Irresistible.

I stepped out of the fitting room and twirled lightly in front of the mirror.

My mom pped her hands together, a pleased look spreading across her face. “Now that’s the one, no matter how old your mom gets she never loses her touch,” she said. “Adrian won’t be able to resist you in that. I guarantee it.”

I smiled, biting my lip slightly as I took another look at myself in the full–length mirror. Maybe she was right. Maybe I needed this push–a final effort to make him see me as more than the mother of his unborn child.

“That dress is a weapon,” my mom added,ughing as she leaned against the wall. “Use it wisely.”

We bothughed, and after paying for everything–including the baby clothes I almost forgotb–/bwe left the store. Shopping bags in hand, our day of luxury hade to an end. But my night? That was just getting started.

By the time I got home, it waste. The mansion was quiet, unusually so. The staff had likely retreated to the quarters, and Dan was nowhere in sight.

Perfect.

I walked up the stairs slowly, my heels clicking against the polished wood. My hands gripped the shopping bags, but my mind was somewhere else- already imagining his expression when he saw me in this dress.

When I got to our bedroom, the door was slightly ajar. I pushed it open gently and stepped inside.

There he was.

Adrian sat on the edge of the bed, his back resting against the headboard, aptop bnced on hisp. His sleeves were rolled up, and the cor of his shirt was undone slightly. He looked focused, eyes narrowed at the screen, fingers flying across the keyboard.

I paused at the doorway for a second, just watching him.

He didn’t even nce up.

My jaw tensed slightly. I walked over to the wardrobe and took the red dress out of the bag, letting the stic fall to the floor. bNo /bmore waiting.

I changed quickly in the bathroom, touched up my lipstick just a little, and then stepped out.

He still hadn’t looked up.

I approached the bed slowly, each step deliberate.

“Hey,” I said softly.

Nothing.

I sat gently at the foot of the bed, just within his peripheral vision, but he remained glued to the screen.

“What are you working on?b” /bbI /basked.

“Business,” he replied curtly, not sparing me even a nce.

b08:51 /bWedb, /bb25 /bbJun /b

bI /bswallowed, then leaned back slightly, adjusting myself so the slit of the dress opened more along my thigh.

Still nothing.

Okay. Time to take things further.

??

I stood up and walked to his side of the bed, slowly lowering myself next to him. My hand lightly traced the edge of his arm, and I leaned in closer, letting my hair brush his shoulder.

“You’ve been working so muchtely,” I whispered. “Don’t you think it’s time for a break?”

He gave a half–hearted shrug, eyes never leaving theptop. “I can’t afford to take breaks.”

“But you can afford a little distraction,” I said, trying to keep my voice sweetb, /bseductive,

He sighed, annoyed now. “Dora. Not now.”

I frowned, but I didn’t back away. I slid my hand down his chest, fingers ying with the first button of his shirt.

Still, no response.

Frustration bubbled beneath my skin. I wasn’t doing this just for fun. Jessica was right, If I didn’t do something bsoon/bb, /bif I didn’t–secure my ceb, /bthis whole pregnancy would amount to nothing.

I leaned in closer, brushing my lips near his jawline. “Adrian,” I whispered. “Just… look at me.”

That made him pause.

Slowly, he turned his head and finally… finally looked at me.

And his eyes didn’t lie. They swept over the dress, lingering at the slit, the neckline, the curve of my hips–and for the first time that night, bI /bsaw something flicker behind his eyes. Not desire yet, but awareness.

“You wore that for me?” he asked quietly.

I nodded.

He closed hisptop slowly and ced it on the nightstand. “I told you not to push this.”

“And I told you I’m not going to be ignored,” I said back, my voice firmer this time.

He studied me for a moment. The silence stretched between us like a taut wire, seconds ticking by.

Then he leaned forward just slightly, his voice low.

“You’re ying a dangerous gameb, /bDora.”

I leaned in too, holding his gaze. “Then let me win.”

ADRIAN’S POV

I wasn’t in the mood for what Dora had been doing.

Not tonight.

Yes, I had finally gotten what I wanted. Revenge. Justice. The people who tore my life apart were bgone/b, and bmy /bbmother’s /bbmemory /bhad been bhonored/b. bI /bshould’ve felt peace. But instead, all I felt was this strange, gnawing emptiness.

bAnd /bnow here she was–Isadora–in her scarlet dress, her scent clouding the air, her hand slowly sliding down bmy /bchest like she bhad /bthe btight/b.

bShe /bbdidn’t/b.

At leastb… /bbthat’s /bwhat I kept telling myself.

Her fingers trailed lowerb. /bbI /bcaught her wrist instinctively, ready to pull her hand away. But something made me stop.

Not her touch.

Her face.

bIt /bbwasn’t /bbDora’s /banymore.

I blinked.

Olivia.

She was standing right there, looking at me the way she used to–softb, /bsultry, hungry. My breath caught. My hand loosened, and I let her keep going

She leaned in, her lips brushing mine, and I didn’t resist. I kissed her back–deeply, hungrily. The taste of her lips, bthe /bfamiliarity of her bwarmth/bb, /bthe way her hand gripped the back of my neck–it all felt so real. It wasn’t just tust. It was memory. Longing. Regret.

I had missed her. Despite everything. Despite what she’d done.

We stumbled toward the bed, our mouths still locked, hands tugging at clothing. I pulled off my shirt, tossed it aside, watching her with ba /bhunger I bhadn’t /ballowed myself to feel in months. Maybe longer.

She pushed me onto the mattress, her lips finding my jaw, then my neck. Her fingers fumbled at the button of my trousers, and Iid bmy /bhead bback/bb, /bexhaling sharply.

And then…

I opened my eyes.

It wasn’t Olivia.

It was Dora.

My heart dropped into my stomach like a stone. I pushed her off quickly, sitting bup /bstraight, breath ragged.

“What..?” she gasped, confused, still on her knees at the edge of the bed.

“I can’t,” I muttered, shaking my head. I stood up, snatching my shirt off the floor.

“Adrian, what’s wrong?” she asked, voice low, hurt.

But I couldn’t even exin it to myself. I had just confused the woman in front of me with someone else. Not just anyone–Oliviab. /bThe woman I had longed for.

And worst of all?

Part of me still did.

“I just need bair/bb,/b” I said, not looking at her. My tone was coldb, /bsharp, and final.

I opened the door and left the room without another word

b08:51 /bbWed/b, b25 /bbJun /b