His Pregnant Mistress Disappeared… And So Did I - Chapter 7: Chapter 7
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So she was pregnant.
No wonder she'd dropped all pretense of restraint.
"It's been over five months now," she whispered in my ear, her voice dripping with smugness. "Mr. Montgomery says this is his first son—he's going to leave him everything."
I sidestepped her, but she clung like a shadow.
"Sister, what's the point?" she taunted. "Throwing a tantrum by refusing to come home, meddling in your family's wedding plans..."
She flicked her hair, preening. "Mr. Montgomery hired a top Milanese designer just for me. He wants me to shine at the Best Actress celebration banquet."
I barely glanced at her before turning to the saleswoman. "I'll take this one. Please wrap it up."
But Serena was relentless, a piece of gum stuck to my shoe. "Oh, by the way—Mr. Montgomery's throwing my celebration banquet that day. What a coincidence, right?"
Her smirk widened. "Same day as your family's wedding with the Songs. Think you'll drop by? Or would watching your least favorite sister marry into wealth be... too painful?"
I took the gift box from the saleswoman and leveled her with a look. "Move."
She didn't.
I stepped around her—
Then came the shriek.
Her body lurched backward, arms flailing. "Wendy!"
Pathetic. That act might work on men, but it was wasted on me.
Richard caught her, his brow furrowed as he glared at me. I held his gaze, unflinching.
He'd seen everything. He'd been standing at the door when Serena mentioned the banquet.
I hadn't touched her. Not even her sleeve.
After a tense silence, Richard finally looked away.
I walked out, bag in hand.
"Wendy!"
As we passed, his voice was gritted steel. "If you don't show up at that banquet—forget about being Mrs. Montgomery."
I almost laughed. Absurd.
Most people in our circles already knew—the Song family wasn't marrying just any young lady. The invitations had gone out. Even if Jason hadn't sent one to the Montgomerys, a single call would've revealed the truth.
I was the bride.
And Richard actually thought I'd skip my own wedding to attend his little party with Serena?
I didn't waste another thought on it.
But fate had a cruel sense of humor—everywhere I went, there he was.
Sometimes watching from a distance, cold eyes flicking away. Other times brushing past me, jaw tight, staring straight ahead like I was air.
I ignored him.
But memories surfaced anyway—of a younger Richard, sulking when I annoyed him, chasing me from room to room until I caved. "Tell me what I did wrong. I'll change, okay?"
He'd sigh, stroking my hair like I was a misbehaving pet. "It's not you. Work's been overwhelming. Just... do as I say."
Then pull me close. Push me away. Repeat.
Soon, the wedding day loomed. Tradition dictated no seeing the groom beforehand, so Jason hadn't visited in days.
But on the eve—
Tap. Tap.
The window rattled.
This time, no gift—just a head poking through the gap.
I blinked, then burst out laughing. "Why not use the door?"
I moved to open it, but Jason stopped me, eyes brighter than I'd ever seen.
"Are you really marrying me tomorrow?"
I nodded. "Yes."
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
"Oh my—no, no, I get it!" He slammed the window and bolted.
Still grinning, I turned to get ready for bed—
Tap. Tap.
"Back already?" I cracked the window—
And froze.
Black suit. Brooding silence.
Richard.
He didn't speak. Neither did I.
Then it hit me—he didn't love Serena. Didn't even truly hate me. He was just addicted to the chase.
"Wendy." His voice was rough. "I admit it. You win. Stop punishing me."
A pause. "I haven't slept since you left."
His shadow stretched, lonely, against the wall. "I was wrong. I shouldn't have abandoned you on our anniversary. Shouldn't have chosen her over you, again and again."
"Come back."
"If you do, I'll cancel tomorrow's banquet. Cut her off."
I almost laughed.
"You can raise the child," he added quickly. "But my wife? That's only ever been you."
I shut the window. Locked it.
"Wendy!" Fury now. "I'm begging you! What more do you want?!"
I flicked off the lights.
Silence. Then—
CRASH.
Something heavy hit the glass. "See how long that stubborn streak lasts!"
I slept like a rock.
At dawn, the makeup artist arrived.
"Who did this?" The housekeeper scowled at the shattered cake outside my window.
I smiled.
Once, early in our marriage, Richard would bring me gifts daily. I'd fling myself into his arms, gushing, "My husband's the best."
How things change.
No wonder she'd dropped all pretense of restraint.
"It's been over five months now," she whispered in my ear, her voice dripping with smugness. "Mr. Montgomery says this is his first son—he's going to leave him everything."
I sidestepped her, but she clung like a shadow.
"Sister, what's the point?" she taunted. "Throwing a tantrum by refusing to come home, meddling in your family's wedding plans..."
She flicked her hair, preening. "Mr. Montgomery hired a top Milanese designer just for me. He wants me to shine at the Best Actress celebration banquet."
I barely glanced at her before turning to the saleswoman. "I'll take this one. Please wrap it up."
But Serena was relentless, a piece of gum stuck to my shoe. "Oh, by the way—Mr. Montgomery's throwing my celebration banquet that day. What a coincidence, right?"
Her smirk widened. "Same day as your family's wedding with the Songs. Think you'll drop by? Or would watching your least favorite sister marry into wealth be... too painful?"
I took the gift box from the saleswoman and leveled her with a look. "Move."
She didn't.
I stepped around her—
Then came the shriek.
Her body lurched backward, arms flailing. "Wendy!"
Pathetic. That act might work on men, but it was wasted on me.
Richard caught her, his brow furrowed as he glared at me. I held his gaze, unflinching.
He'd seen everything. He'd been standing at the door when Serena mentioned the banquet.
I hadn't touched her. Not even her sleeve.
After a tense silence, Richard finally looked away.
I walked out, bag in hand.
"Wendy!"
As we passed, his voice was gritted steel. "If you don't show up at that banquet—forget about being Mrs. Montgomery."
I almost laughed. Absurd.
Most people in our circles already knew—the Song family wasn't marrying just any young lady. The invitations had gone out. Even if Jason hadn't sent one to the Montgomerys, a single call would've revealed the truth.
I was the bride.
And Richard actually thought I'd skip my own wedding to attend his little party with Serena?
I didn't waste another thought on it.
But fate had a cruel sense of humor—everywhere I went, there he was.
Sometimes watching from a distance, cold eyes flicking away. Other times brushing past me, jaw tight, staring straight ahead like I was air.
I ignored him.
But memories surfaced anyway—of a younger Richard, sulking when I annoyed him, chasing me from room to room until I caved. "Tell me what I did wrong. I'll change, okay?"
He'd sigh, stroking my hair like I was a misbehaving pet. "It's not you. Work's been overwhelming. Just... do as I say."
Then pull me close. Push me away. Repeat.
Soon, the wedding day loomed. Tradition dictated no seeing the groom beforehand, so Jason hadn't visited in days.
But on the eve—
Tap. Tap.
The window rattled.
This time, no gift—just a head poking through the gap.
I blinked, then burst out laughing. "Why not use the door?"
I moved to open it, but Jason stopped me, eyes brighter than I'd ever seen.
"Are you really marrying me tomorrow?"
I nodded. "Yes."
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
"Oh my—no, no, I get it!" He slammed the window and bolted.
Still grinning, I turned to get ready for bed—
Tap. Tap.
"Back already?" I cracked the window—
And froze.
Black suit. Brooding silence.
Richard.
He didn't speak. Neither did I.
Then it hit me—he didn't love Serena. Didn't even truly hate me. He was just addicted to the chase.
"Wendy." His voice was rough. "I admit it. You win. Stop punishing me."
A pause. "I haven't slept since you left."
His shadow stretched, lonely, against the wall. "I was wrong. I shouldn't have abandoned you on our anniversary. Shouldn't have chosen her over you, again and again."
"Come back."
"If you do, I'll cancel tomorrow's banquet. Cut her off."
I almost laughed.
"You can raise the child," he added quickly. "But my wife? That's only ever been you."
I shut the window. Locked it.
"Wendy!" Fury now. "I'm begging you! What more do you want?!"
I flicked off the lights.
Silence. Then—
CRASH.
Something heavy hit the glass. "See how long that stubborn streak lasts!"
I slept like a rock.
At dawn, the makeup artist arrived.
"Who did this?" The housekeeper scowled at the shattered cake outside my window.
I smiled.
Once, early in our marriage, Richard would bring me gifts daily. I'd fling myself into his arms, gushing, "My husband's the best."
How things change.
End of His Pregnant Mistress Disappeared… And So Did I Chapter 7. Continue reading Chapter 8 or return to His Pregnant Mistress Disappeared… And So Did I book page.