Chapter 527

The phone rang at midnight.

It was Ethan.

"Vanessa, shut your mouth! Stop spewing nonsense!" His voice was sharp with anger. "Don't project your filthy thoughts onto others!"

Vanessa felt the sting of injustice. She hadn't said anything wrong.

By the time she returned to the Hawthorne Estate, the clock had long passed midnight.

A hot shower later, she slipped into a silk nightgown that clung to her curves.

Standing before the mirror, she admired her reflection—flawless from every angle.

She remembered how Ethan used to worship her.

In their happiest days, he would cradle her face in his hands and whisper how breathtaking she was.

But now? He barely looked at her anymore.

The neglect gnawed at her.

Ethan hadn't come home yet. Lately, he'd been preoccupied, leaving early and returning late.

Not wanting to provoke him, Vanessa had avoided questioning his whereabouts.

She poured herself a glass of Merlot from the wine cabinet. Halfway through, the front door clicked open.

Adjusting the neckline of her gown, she sauntered toward Ethan, fingers curling around his tie to pull him inside. The contrast between his crisp suit and her barely-there nightwear was stark.

This was her favorite set—black lace that accentuated every curve.

Her gaze burned with intent as she looked up at him.

"Ethan, you're finally home. It's been so long since we—"

Their last intimate moment had been at the hospital after her miscarriage.

That night, something primal had stirred in Ethan. Despite his injuries, he'd clung to her with desperate need.

Vanessa had hoped it would change things between them.

But the distance only grew.

These days, he barely spoke to her.

Tonight, she'd merely hinted at something between Evelyn and Dominic, and Ethan had exploded.

His constant defense of Evelyn cut deep.

He was her husband, damn it!

Vanessa's gaze smoldered with open invitation.

Ethan noticed.

And couldn't have cared less.

He raised a hand, pushing her away with cold detachment. "I'm tired. It's late. You should sleep."

Grabbing his pajamas, he turned toward the guest room.

Vanessa stood frozen.

Wasn't she making herself obvious enough?

She was practically throwing herself at him! How could he just—

Her arms wrapped around his waist from behind, delicate fingers tracing his abdomen.

Today was her fertile window. If they slept together now, she might conceive.

She couldn't waste this chance.

Since the miscarriage, Eleanor had reverted to treating her like garbage.

With Ethan pulling away, Vanessa needed an anchor. A baby would secure her position.

"Ethan, we're married. I don't want separate beds."

He peeled her hands off like removing lint.

"My heart belongs to Evelyn. If you can't accept that, we'll divorce."

The door clicked shut behind him.

Vanessa stood alone, her reflection in the mirror twisting with disbelief.