His Third Hidden Home

At four o'clock in the morning, my codependent, drama-addicted best friend pounded frantically on my front door.

Paige! My boyfriend is going to break up with me! We have to go kneel outside his apartment together and beg him to stay, please?

I stared at her in utter disbelief. Why do I have to kneel?

Natalie nodded quickly. "It makes me look more sincere! If he sees you swallowing your pride for me, he'll definitely soften up!"

I opened my mouth to refuse, but she suddenly whipped a kitchen knife from her purse, pressing the dull side against her own wrist.

"Paige, I love him so much. If he leaves me, I swear I won't survive the night!"

Terrified of what she might do, I allowed myself to be dragged through the freezing pre-dawn air to the high-rise downtown.

We knelt on the hard concrete, shivering as the darkness slowly gave way to the first pale light of morning.

Finally, just as the first rays of the sun began to warm the glass facade, the lobby doors swung open.

A tall man walked out, his arm wrapped protectively around a heavily pregnant woman.

The moment I raised my head, my mind went completely blank.

The man was Derek Harrington, my husband of seven years, the man I had been in a bitter cold war with for the past month.

Beside me, Natalie's tears vanished. She stood up, brushing the dirt from her knees, and smugly pulled Derek away from the pregnant woman's side.

"We had a bet, Derek! Whoever got Paige to kneel and apologize first got you to yourself for a whole month! I won, sweetie. You can't break your promise now."

My eyes drifted to the pregnant woman. She looked horribly familiar.

She was Scarlett Moore, the underprivileged student Derek and I had sponsored through our charitable foundation for the past seven years.

"No wonder you agreed to let me have Derek last night, Natalie," Scarlett murmured, resting a hand on her round stomach, her voice dripping with mock innocence. "You already had this little performance planned."

"That's enough," Derek said, raising a hand to pacify both women. "Scarlett, you're pregnant, go home and rest for the month. Natalie, you won, but you need to show some consideration for Scarlett's condition."

Only after he had comforted them did his gaze finally land on me.

"Stop fighting it, Paige," he said, walking over to grab my hand. Our matching platinum wedding bands glistened in the morning light, feeling like cold iron against my skin. "Why that face? It was just a harmless joke. Besides, you know how I am."

Yes, I knew exactly how Derek Harrington was.

He was a notorious playboy, a man driven by a desperate need to win.

When our families arranged our marriage of convenience, he had promised to clear out his harem, and I had foolishly believed the reformed bad boy myth.

"So... you slept with the girl we sponsored, slept with my childhood best friend, and conspired with them to make me kneel on the street, all just to see me submit?"

"Of course," he murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss against my forehead. "In a marriage, someone has to have the upper hand."

"I admit the method was a bit extreme this time, but you're my wife. No matter what happens, I would never let an outsider threaten our home."

Natalie grabbed my arm, her expression bright. "Paige, we've been best friends forever. You always said you wanted me to find a reliable man. I trust your taste, Derek is perfect. Besides, I'm a free spirit, I have no intention of marrying him or ruining your household."

Scarlett offered a timid smile, cradling her stomach. "Me too, Mrs. Harrington! This baby was an accident, but I only view you and Mr. Harrington as my benefactors. No matter the gender, I only want financial security, I would never try to take your place."

Looking at my husband's modern-day harem, I let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "This is the fidelity you promised me after our wedding?"

Derek blinked, looking genuinely surprised. "Isn't this enough?"

"I'm a man, Paige. I was never going to spend my entire life tied to one woman. I agreed to the merger because I thought you understood that. I thought you didn't mind."

"If you hadn't tried to freeze me out this month, you would have never even known about them." He wiped a tear from my cheek. "Be good, Paige. Stop making a scene. You are still the only one who matters to me."

I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face.

He didn't get angry. He simply chuckled, reaching out to ruffle my hair.

"Go home and wait for me. Tonight, I'm all yours."

By the time my driver found me sitting near the apartment gates, I was shaking with silent sobs.

As the city lights blurred outside the window, my mind drifted back to our university years in London.

Derek had been the campus playboy, always surrounded by beautiful women. At a party once, a classmate had joked about who would eventually be forced to marry him to settle his wild streak.

When someone mentioned my name, the others immediately laughed it off. "No way! Paige Reynolds believes in true love and old-school romance. She'd never touch a guy like him."

Amid the laughter, Derek's expression had turned serious. He pushed his companions aside, sat down next to me, and whispered, "If my partner is you, Paige, I'd give it all up."

I had looked away, hiding the secret love I had carried for him ever since he had defended me against high school bullies years before.

Later, when the Harrington family faced a severe liquidity crisis, I found him drinking himself to sleep at a private club, and proposed our corporate merger.

He had looked at me with tear-filled eyes, promising, "I'll clear everyone else out, Paige. No matter how rotten I am, I'll never bring that dirt home to you."

The car came to a stop.

We were back at the estate we had designed together, the home we had shared for seven years.

In corporate marriages, emotional decay was common, but I had never expected Derek and me to end up like this.

I packed my bags quickly, preparing to move to a private townhouse under my own name. But as I opened the passenger door, my assistant called, her voice tight with panic.

"Mrs. Harrington, we have a crisis!"

"The shares of Harrington Enterprises are plunging. Someone leaked photographs of Mr. Harrington taking a young woman to an OB-GYN clinic. The media is claiming your marriage is over, and institutional investors are threatening to pull their capital!"

I ordered the driver to take me directly to the medical plaza.

The main entrance was already swarming with reporters, their flashes reflecting off the glass doors. I pushed through the crowd, heading straight to the private VIP wing on the top floor.

Inside the examination room, Derek was kneeling beside Scarlett's chair, his ear pressed against her pregnant belly.

"You're here," he said, standing up and smoothing his tailored suit. "The lobby is packed with reporters. Did you have any trouble getting past them?"

The truth hit me with sudden, freezing clarity.

"You leaked those photos yourself."

"Of course," he murmured, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I told you to wait for me, but you tried to leave. I had to use a little leverage to bring you back."

I couldn't believe my own ears. "Are you insane? Do you have any idea how much this scandal is going to cost the firm?"

Scarlett whimpered, shrinking behind him. "Mrs. Harrington, please don't be mad at Derek. It's my fault, my stomach was hurting, and he only came to support me. If you want to blame someone, blame me!"

"Blame you?" I let out a cold laugh, thrusting my phone screen toward her face. "In three hours, we lost seventy million dollars. I could liquidate every asset you own, and you still couldn't cover the margin call!"

Scarlett burst into tears.

"Why are you yelling at her?" Derek snapped, pulling her behind him. "Scarlett grew up in a small town, she doesn't understand corporate finances. It's nothing a joint public statement can't fix. Why take it out on a pregnant woman?"

"I only wanted to teach you a lesson, I didn't expect the market to react this violently. But since we're here, you'll have to help me coordinate with the public relations team to clean this up."

His casual tone reminded me of our first year of marriage.

An aspiring actress had tried to use Derek's name for publicity, leaking photos of him escorting her to a hotel. Before the story could even break, Derek had blacklisted her and sued the photographer into bankruptcy.

When the dust settled, he had thrown himself into my arms, murmuring, "My darling, you have no idea how hard I had to fight to keep my reputation clean for you."

Suddenly, a sharp, stabbing pain shot through my lower abdomen, forcing me to gasp.

Derek's eyes narrowed with concern. "What's wrong?"

He reached out to steady me, but I flinched away from his touch. He turned to his assistant. "Take my wife downstairs to the executive clinic for an immediate evaluation."

Then, he looked back at me, his voice softening. "Let them check you over, then go back to the house and wait for me. I'll make sure this is settled by tonight."

I pushed past him, walking out of the ward.

Just outside the clinic doors, a familiar physician called out to me. "Mrs. Harrington! I was just about to call you. Your laboratory results from last week are finalized. Congratulations!"

Even as Derek pushed open the front door of our estate that evening, the doctor's words from earlier were still echoing in my ears.

"Twins. Almost eleven weeks along. Everything looks perfectly healthy."

"Three months already..." I whispered, my hand resting gently on my flat stomach. "If I terminate the pregnancy now... will it be very painful?"

The doctor had paused, her expression turning incredibly serious. "Mrs. Harrington, from a professional standpoint, I strongly advise against that. Your uterine lining is exceptionally thin. If you choose to terminate this pregnancy, it is highly unlikely you will ever conceive again."

A hand waved in front of my face, breaking my trance.

"Are you listening to me?"

Derek's voice brought me back to the dim living room. "I've scheduled a press conference for tomorrow morning to clarify the hospital photos. As long as we stand together before the cameras, the rumors will die down."

I didn't answer, my palm pressing against my stomach.

"Derek," I said softly, "if I were pregnant... would you change?"

He froze, then let out a low laugh. "What a question. Are you really this jealous of Scarlett?"

He stepped closer, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "No matter what happens, you are my only wife. Natalie, Scarlett... they're just distractions. They don't compare to you."

"Even if Scarlett has the baby, I'll simply establish a trust fund and send them abroad. Then, it will just be you and Natalie left here with me."

He looked down at me, his tone filled with a sickening kind of tenderness. "Don't worry, you and Natalie have been friends since childhood. She would never hurt you."

I smiled.

It was exactly what I had expected. Every trace of the love I had carried for him since our youth vanished into nothingness.

So be it.

Our marriage was a commercial transaction, a quest for profit. I should have never expected a soul.

For the sake of the life growing inside me, I agreed to the compromise. "What time is the conference?"

Derek let out a long, visible sigh of relief. "Ten o'clock tomorrow morning."

He patted my head. "You've had a long day. Go get some rest."

With that, he turned and walked toward the master bath.

The next morning, we stood arm-in-arm before a wall of flashing cameras, presenting the perfect picture of corporate solidarity.

Derek addressed the room with his trademark charm. "First, I want to thank everyone for their interest in our personal lives."

"The young woman in the photographs is an employee of our foundation. As her employer, I was merely assisting with a medical emergency. Any rumors of inappropriate conduct..." He offered a self-deprecating smile. "A few blurry photos and some internet gossip shouldn't be enough to cause such a stir, surely?"

A reporter in the front row pressed further. "Mr. Harrington, your bachelor years were quite colorful. Is this joint appearance merely a public relations stunt to stabilize the stock price? Is your marriage actually intact?"

Derek's laugh was warm and easy. "We all have our wild years. But from the day I married Paige, I understood the responsibilities of a husband."

He offered me a playful, apologetic look. "If you keep digging up my past, my wife might make me sleep on the couch tonight!"

The room filled with polite laughter.

I offered a gentle nod and a warm smile for the cameras, doing exactly what was required to reassure our institutional investors.

The narrative was already shifting online: The Reformed Playboy, Corporate Power Couple, True Love in High Society.

I kept the smile fixed on my face, watching him.

Seeing the crisis averted, Derek relaxed, preparing to deliver his closing remarks.

But suddenly, the phone in his pocket began to vibrate.

My smile grew wider.