The CEO's Rejected Wife And Secret Heir Chapter 4 – Cast Aside

The taxi dropped at the Monroe mansion gates just as the sun set behind the estate.

I paid with crumpled bills from my purse. My hands shook as I counted them out.

The driver glanced at in the rearview mirror. "Are you okay, miss?"

I nodded. "I’m fine."

I wasn’t fine.

The gates opened automatically the facial recognition still worked. At least they hadn’t locked out yet.

The mansion lood ahead, all white columns and manicured lawns. I’d grown up here, but it had never felt like ho. Now it felt more like an enemy territory.

I walked up the drive, my small suitcase wheels scraping against the gravel.

The front door swung open before I reached it.

My father stood in the entrance, his arms crossed. His face was stern.

"Aria." His voice was cold. "I wondered when you’d show up."

I stopped at the bottom of the steps. "Dad, I"

He cut off with a raised hand. "Inside. Now."

I climbed the steps slowly. My legs trembling.

The foyer was exactly as I rembered—crystal chandelier, marble floors, fresh flowers on the table. Everything was perfect and lifeless.

My mother appeared from the sitting room. She wore pearls and a cream suit, her hair perfectly styled.

She looked at like I was sothing unpleasant she’d found on her shoe.

"Well." Eleanor’s lips pressed into a thin line. "The prodigal daughter returns."

I set down my suitcase. "Can we talk?"

My father walked past into his study. "Follow ."

I did.

The study slled of old leather and expensive cigars. He moved behind his desk, standing rather than sitting.

"I received a call from Blackwood’s attorney this afternoon." Charles’s jaw clenched. "Apparently, you went to Damien’s office today."

My stomach dropped. "I had to tell him"

"That you pregnant?" He laughed bitterly. "Yes, I heard. Quite the sche, Aria. Did you really think trapping him would work?"

The words hit like a punch to the gut. "It’s not a sche. The baby is his."

"The baby is a problem." My mother’s voice ca from the doorway. "One that needs to be dealt with imdiately."

I spun to face her. "What are you talking about?"

She walked into the room, closing the door behind her. "The Blackwoods are threatening to pull all support. The business deal, the investnts, everything." Her eyes were hard. "Because of you."

"Because I’m pregnant?"

My father slamd his hand on the desk. "Because you’re trying to trap their son with a bastard child!"

I flinched. "It’s not"

"I don’t care what it is." Charles moved around the desk. "You will terminate the pregnancy. Today. Tomorrow at the latest."

My hands instinctively covered my stomach. "No."

"Excuse ?" My fathers voice rang out.

"I said no." My voice shook but held steady. "This is my baby. I’m keeping it."

My mother’s laugh was sharp. "Don’t be ridiculous, Aria. You have no money, no job, no husband." She stepped closer. "You can’t raise a child."

"I’ll figure it out."

"You’ve always been the stupid one." Vivian’s voice ca from the hallway. "Haven’t you?"

I turned. My sister stood in the doorway, wearing designer jeans and a smug smile.

She walked in like she owned the place. "I just got off the phone with Damien." Vivian held up her phone. "He’s filing for divorce. Citing abandonnt and attempted entrapnt."

The room tilted.

My father’s voice ca out in a low tone. "You’ve failed, Aria. Completely and utterly failed."

"The Blackwoods want nothing to do with you," my mother added. "And neither do we."

I looked between them. "You’re my family."

"Family?" Charles laughed. "You were useful when you were marrying into the Blackwood empire. Now you’re a liability."

Vivian perched on the edge of the desk. "Damien and I are together now. Officially." She smiled. "He’s taking to the Charity Gala next week. As his date."

Sothing inside cracked. "You’re sick." I looked at my sister. "All of you."

"We’re practical." My mother moved to the door. "Co with , Aria. Let’s clear out your room."

I followed numbly.

My childhood bedroom looked the sa—pale walls, white furniture, bookshelf full of academic awards nobody had ever cared about.

Eleanor opened my closet. "Take what you need. The rest stays."

"Mom"

"Don’t call that." She pulled out a small suitcase. "Not anymore."

I watched as she went through my things, pulling out anything valuable. My grandmother’s necklace. The watch I’d gotten for graduation. Even my favorite sweater.

"These belong to the family," she said. "You’re no longer family."

Vivian appeared in the doorway. "Oh, and Damien asked to give you these." She tossed an envelope onto the bed.

I opened it with shaking hands.

Divorce papers. it was finally Official.

"He’s being generous," Vivian said. "Sign them, and he won’t contest the marriage. You’ll get nothing, but at least you won’t be dragged through court."

My hands trembled as I read. "He’s not even offering support for the baby?"

"He’s offering you the gift of disappearing quietly." She smiled. "Take it."

A knock at the door. One of the house staff—Mando, who’d worked here since I was a child.

His face was apologetic. "There’s an attorney here for Miss Aria."

"Send him up," my father called from the hallway.

Minutes later, a cold-faced man in an expensive suit entered my room. He held a leather briefcase.

"Miss Monroe." He set the briefcase on the bed, opening it. "I’m here on behalf of Damien Blackwood. These docunts require your signature."

More papers and a pen.

I read through them. My vision blurred with tears.

No alimony. No support. Complete dissolution of the marriage. A non-disclosure agreent preventing from speaking about the Blackwood family.

And a clause at the end—if I contested paternity or sought child support, I’d face legal action.

"Sign it," my father said from the doorway. "Now."

I looked up at him. At my mother standing behind him. At Vivian smirking from the hallway.

At the attorney waiting. My hand shook as I took it.

I signed. Page after page after page.

When I finished, the attorney collected the docunts without a word. He left as quickly as he’d co.

My father crossed his arms. "Pack. You have one hour."

"Where am I supposed to go?" I ask my voice trembling.

"That’s no longer our concern." Eleanor turned away. "You made your choice."

I stuffed clothes into my suitcase. Not much—I’d never owned anything expensive. Books. A few photos.When I ca downstairs, my family waited in the foyer.

Charles held the front door open. "Leave the house key."

I pulled it from my keychain with numb fingers. It clattered when I dropped it in his palm.

"And your credit cards," my mother added. "All of them."

I handed those over too.

Vivian stepped forward. "Oh, and this." She held up my phone. "Family plan. Can’t have you running up charges."

She’d gone through my purse. Had Taken my phone while I was packing. "You went through my things?"

"They’re not your things anymore." She smiled. "Nothing here is yours."

I grabbed my suitcase and walked toward the door.

My father’s voice stopped . "Aria."

I turned, so stupid part of hoping he would tell to co back inside.

"Don’t co back." His face was emotionless. "You’re no daughter of ours."

The door slamd behind .

Rain had started falling. Heavy, cold drops that soaked through my thin jacket within seconds.

I stood on the driveway, suitcase in hand, water streaming down my face mixing with tears.

No phone. No money except the few bills in my wallet. No family. Nothing.

My hand moved to my stomach that was still flat.

"We’ll survive," I whispered to the baby. "I promise you, we’ll survive."

Thunder rumbled overhead.

I started walking. I didn’t know where I was going.

But I made a vow with each step, rain-soaked and broken: One day, they’ll all pay.