BAD WIFE

Chapter {25}

Baylee was now at the point of desperation.

She had tried calling, texting, emailing—everything—just to hear her best friend's voice again. But Lola had blocked her on every platform imaginable. There was no way in, no way back, and it was suffocating her.

She didn't want to clear her name.

She just wanted to say she was sorry. To try.

But the silence was punishing.

Baylee had destroyed something sacred—Lola's happiness. Her one shot at a forever kind of love. And the guilt... it didn't just weigh on her. It buried her. It gnawed at her from the inside out, a twisting pit in her stomach that only grew heavier by the day.

And now, with life growing inside her, that ache came with a new edge.

The baby didn't deserve to feel the weight of her sins.

That's why, when she learned the Ashers were hosting a charity dinner for cancer research, she didn't hesitate. She bought a plate—paying an amount so absurdly high that it practically screamed desperation.

She didn't care.

She planned to show up.

She straightened her hair slowly, the iron hissing against strands as she tried to calm her nerves. Then she slipped into a short, loose-fitting black dress—flowy enough to hide the subtle curve of her baby bump. Her heels and clutch matched the look perfectly. Understated. Elegant.

Controlled.

It was getting harder to squeeze herself into her two-door Porsche, but she still managed. Her hands trembled on the steering wheel as she drove toward the venue.

Her heels clicked sharply against the pavement as she stepped onto the red carpet, heart thudding in her chest like a war drum. She was greeted by men in crisp white tuxedos, one of whom pulled open the golden French doors with practiced charm.

"Thank you," she murmured, barely meeting his eyes.

Inside was breathtaking.

Everything screamed Lola.

A stunning three-foot chandelier dripped crystals from the high ceiling. The floors were pearl-white marble, gleaming under the golden light. The elegance was painful—beautiful, and painful.

She was escorted to a circular table covered in pale pink silk. Each chair was glossy gold, delicate and dazzling. She sat down slowly, her eyes already scanning the room.

Searching.

Face after face blurred past her.

And then—not Lola—but her brother.

Him.

Niko.

Her breath caught. She hadn't expected to see him, and just the sight of him—confident, polished, smiling while speaking to an older gentleman—made her chest tighten.

She quickly looked away, only letting her gaze linger for a few seconds.

Then something caught her attention.

Something glittering.

She turned her head and saw it—Lola.

Her ex-best friend.

She wore a long, silver spaghetti-strap dress that shimmered under the chandeliers. Her hair was pinned up with soft curls falling around her face, and she was currently gesturing toward a woman in a blue suit, pointing sharply toward the staff-only area.