Devilish secretary
Chapter 357 The Taste of Betrayal (4)

Chapter 357: Chapter 357 The Taste of Betrayal (4)

Rayan didn’t answer immediately. He just wiped his tears roughly with the back of his hand and stood up.

His voice was hoarse when he said, "Yeah... I’ll see her."

His steps were slow as he walked to the room. With every step, his face became colder. More unreadable.

When he opened the door, he saw Lia lying in bed, pale and weak. Her eyes widened when she saw him.

"...Ray..." she whispered.

He didn’t reply.

He just stood there at the edge of the room, looking at her. She looked small, fragile... and guilty.

He didn’t walk forward. He didn’t hold her hand.

After a long silence, he said quietly, "It’s over, Lia."

Lia’s lips trembled. "Ray... please don’t leave me. I was scared... I was lonely..."

Rayan looked away.

His heart was bleeding.

"Lia... tell me the truth." He turned fully to face her, stopping at the foot of the hospital bed where she lay—pale and bruised.

His eyes weren’t angry, not yet—they were just searching. Desperate. Like he wanted to believe something, anything other than what his heart was already screaming at him.

"Is that baby really mine?"

Lia froze.

Her trembling hand tightened around the edge of the hospital blanket. Her eyes flickered, trying to find an escape, some distraction, some corner to hide her guilt in but there was none. There was only his eyes. And his voice. And the truth hanging in the air like a guillotine.

She opened her mouth. Closed it. Then said softly, "Ray... I..."

"You what?" he asked, stepping closer. His voice cracked. "You what, Lia?"

He needed to hear her say it. Even if it would tear him apart. Because nothing hurt more than the silence between lies.

Lia’s lips parted again, but the words didn’t want to come out. Her body was weak, her head pounding, but guilt was stronger than pain. She looked down. Her fingers gripped the sheet so tightly her knuckles turned white.

"I... I don’t know who the father was," she whispered.

And the moment she said it, her entire body deflated.

Rayan stood frozen.

It felt like the ground shifted under his feet.

"You don’t know?" he repeated, slowly. His jaw clenched, his eyes wide. "You don’t know?" he said again—louder this time, angrier. "You were pregnant, Lia! And you don’t even know who the father was?"

"I made a mistake, Ray... I didn’t plan it—"

"Oh, don’t give me that," he snapped, dragging a hand through his hair and pacing away before turning back, eyes glistening. "Don’t pretend like this just happened to you! You cheated. You lied to me every day. I was planning a future for us, a home, a life—and you were playing house with someone else’s baby."

"I was scared!" she screamed suddenly, breaking down into tears. "You were always busy with your work! I thought you didn’t love me anymore. I felt invisible, like I didn’t matter to you!"

"So you decided to sleep with someone else?" he asked, bitterly laughing as he stepped back. "You thought that would fix things?"

"I didn’t mean to... Kyle was just there and I—I was drunk—"

"Stop." His voice turned cold. "Don’t you dare say his name."

Lia sobbed harder, burying her face in her hands. "I was going to tell you. I swear I was. But when I found out I was pregnant... I thought it would be yours. I wanted it to be yours..."

"And now?" he asked quietly. "Now that the baby is gone, suddenly the truth comes out? Was this some way to clean your guilt?"

"No—no, Ray please..." she reached for his hand, but he stepped away like her touch might burn him.

He shook his head slowly, pain twisting across his face. "I gave up everything to be with you, Lia. I worked from scratch. I built everything again... and I thought at least, at least you were the one thing in my life that wouldn’t betray me."

"I’m sorry," she sobbed. "Please don’t leave me..."

But he didn’t answer.

He stared at her one last time...her tear-streaked face, her trembling lips, her regret but all he could see was the broken version of everything he believed in.

And without another word, Rayan turned around and walked out the hospital room.

****

Rayan sat motionless in the driver’s seat, his hands gripping the steering wheel long after the engine had gone silent. The cold wind outside fogged up the windshield, but he didn’t move to wipe it. His eyes were blank, staring into nothing.

He had paid her medical bills. That was the last decent thing he could do. The very last.

Now he just needed to drive far, far away—from the hospital, from Lia, from the truth.

But even as he tried, the memories clung to him like vines wrapping tighter and tighter around his chest.

Lia cheating.

The baby gone.

And the final stab that the baby was never his to begin with.

He let out a breathless laugh, one filled with disbelief and pain. How many? How many people had she been with behind his back? That question haunted him more than the answer ever could. Even now, after everything, she didn’t name anyone. She didn’t know who the father was. She didn’t even know.

His jaw clenched, and he slammed his palm against the steering wheel. The dull thud echoed in the silent car.

How could she do this to him?

He had worked day and night to rebuild his life. From nothing. With no family, no support—only grit. He bought her flowers, he planned their future, he wore himself thin just so she wouldn’t have to worry about a thing. He trusted her. He thought she was his peace. His one softness in a hard world.

And now?

Everything felt like a sick joke the universe was laughing at.

Rayan pulled over near a quiet, half-frozen lake outside the city. It was the only place he could think of away from traffic, noise, people. The wind whipped through the cracks in the door as he stepped out. It hit his face like a slap, but it still wasn’t cold enough to numb what was going on inside him.

He walked slowly toward the edge of the water, his shoes crunching over brittle grass and frozen mud.

Why did it still hurt this much?

Why did betrayal feel like someone reaching inside your chest and squeezing?

He didn’t cry. He couldn’t. But his eyes stung. His vision blurred from the wind or maybe from the emotions boiling under his skin—he couldn’t tell.

He just wanted to scream.

But instead, he sat down on a cold wooden bench near the lake, his head in his hands.

And there, under the dull gray sky, with nothing but the sound of water lapping against the shore.