THE HEIRESS HE ABANDONED

At 11:47 p.m., Mireya Calder discovered that her husband had remembered another woman's needs but forgotten his wife's birthday.

Her phone vibrated against the dining table, startling her from the thoughts she had been trying desperately to escape. She picked it up, expecting perhaps a message from Dorian. Instead, an unfamiliar number flashed across the screen.

Your husband is at St. Augustine Hospital with Odette Marlow. You should probably stop waiting for him.

Mireya read the message twice. Her eyes drifted towards the untouched dinner arranged for two, the expensive wine she had bought with her savings, and the small birthday cake sitting between the plates. Twenty-eight candles surrounded its delicate icing. She had spent the afternoon preparing everything herself, hoping that Dorian would surprise her by coming home early. Apparently, she had been waiting for nothing.

She dialled his number. It rang several times before he answered, and the first thing she heard was the impatient sound of his breathing.

"What is it, Mireya? I'm busy."

She swallowed the disappointment rising in her throat. "Where are you, Dorian?"

"At work."

"At this hour?"

"Is there a problem?"

Mireya glanced at the clock. "It's almost midnight. I thought we agreed to have dinner tonight."

There was a brief silence, followed by the unmistakable sound of a woman's voice in the background. "Dorian, are you coming? The nurse needs to speak with you."

Mireya's fingers tightened around the phone. She knew that voice. She had heard it countless times during the past few months, usually whenever Dorian abandoned their plans.

"Is Odette with you?" she asked quietly.

"Don't start."

"I'm asking a simple question."

"And I'm telling you that I have something important to deal with. I'll come home when I'm ready."

"Today is my birthday, Dorian."

For a moment, she heard nothing. She waited, foolishly hoping that he might apologize. Instead, he sighed as though she had deliberately inconvenienced him.

"Happy birthday, then. Can we talk about this tomorrow?"

Before she could respond, the call ended. Mireya lowered the phone and stared at the screen. Three years of marriage, countless sacrifices and one simple wish for her birthday, yet her husband couldn't spare five minutes for her.

She had barely finished clearing the table when the front door opened. Dorian walked into the house, removing his wristwatch as he headed towards the staircase. He looked expensive, composed and completely unaffected by the disappointment waiting for him downstairs.

"You're still awake?" he asked.

"I was waiting for you."

He glanced at the dining table. "You shouldn't have bothered."

Mireya forced herself to remain calm. "I wanted us to celebrate together."

"Must we do this every time I have work?"

"Every time? Dorian, you missed our anniversary, you cancelled our last three dinners, and today you couldn't even remember my birthday until I reminded you."

His expression hardened. "Odette needed me. She's going through a difficult pregnancy, and I won't abandon her because you're feeling neglected."

Mireya looked at him in disbelief. "She's your late brother's widow. I'm your wife. Do you understand the difference?"

"Don't bring Julian into this."

"Then stop making me feel like a stranger in my own marriage."

Dorian picked up his briefcase. "I'm exhausted. I don't have the energy for another argument."

He walked upstairs without looking back. Mireya remained beside the dining table, realizing that the hardest part of being married to Dorian wasn't his absence. It was how easily he made her feel guilty for wanting him present.

The following morning, Mireya decided to stop waiting for an apology. She prepared breakfast and placed his favourite coffee beside his plate. Dorian entered the dining room while checking messages on his phone, barely acknowledging her before dropping a thick document beside her cup.

"I need your signature."

She glanced at the papers. "What am I signing?"

"Some corporate authorizations. My legal department has reviewed them."

"Then why do you need my signature?"

"Because certain historical records require additional verification."

Mireya turned the first few pages. Most of the information looked unfamiliar, but one name immediately caught her attention: Calder Meridian Group. Her fingers stopped moving.

"Why is my family's company mentioned here?"

Dorian looked up sharply. For the briefest moment, something resembling alarm crossed his face. He quickly concealed it and reached for his coffee.

"It's an old business connection. Nothing you need to worry about."

"Then explain why my signature is required."

"Mireya, please. I have a meeting in twenty minutes."

She continued reading. There were references to an original trust, administrative authority and several historical beneficiaries. Before she could examine the details, Dorian took the document from her.

"I'll have my lawyer handle it."

"But you just said you needed my signature."

"I'll get back to you."

His phone rang. Odette's name appeared on the screen, and his entire expression changed. He answered immediately, his voice becoming noticeably softer.

"What's wrong? Are you at the hospital?"

Mireya watched him stand.

"I'm coming. Don't worry about anything."

He collected his jacket and headed towards the door. She followed him, determined not to let another question go unanswered.

"Dorian, we haven't finished talking."

"Not now."

"You keep saying that. When exactly will you have time for your wife?"

He stopped and turned towards her. "Odette needs me. Is that so difficult for you to understand?"

Mireya's eyes stung, but she refused to cry. "And what do I need, Dorian? Have you ever thought about that?"

He stared at her for a moment before walking away.

The door slammed.

For several minutes, Mireya stood motionless. Then her gaze fell on the empty space where the documents had been. Something about them disturbed her. She had spent years deliberately avoiding her family's wealth, yet Dorian had suddenly placed a Calder Meridian document in front of her and demanded her signature.

Why now?

An hour later, her phone rang. The caller introduced himself as Daniel Rusk, a former employee of Calder Meridian. He sounded nervous, and the moment Mireya confirmed her identity, he lowered his voice.

"Mrs Kells, I need to ask you something. Has your husband ever discussed your connection to the original Calder family trust?"

Mireya frowned. "What connection?"

"Your name appears in the original inheritance records. I've been investigating some irregularities, and I found something that concerns you."

"What exactly did you find?"

"An authorization document. It suggests that someone has been preparing to use your identity for a very long time."

Mireya's heartbeat quickened. "That's impossible. I've never authorized anything for Calder Meridian."

"I believe you. But you need to be careful. Don't sign any documents your husband gives you until you've spoken to an independent lawyer."

Before Mireya could ask another question, Daniel abruptly stopped speaking. She heard a door opening on his end and someone calling his name.

"Listen to me," he whispered urgently. "Your husband knows more than he's telling you. I found his signature on-"

The call disconnected.

Mireya immediately tried calling back, but the number was unavailable. A few seconds later, a message arrived containing a photograph of an old document. She opened it with trembling fingers.

The heading read: ORIGINAL CALDER FAMILY TRUST - PROTECTED BENEFICIARY RECORDS.

Below it was her full name.

MIREYA ALISTAIR CALDER.

She stared at the words, confused. She had never used that name. As far as she knew, her father had deliberately kept his family affairs separate from her marriage.

Then she noticed the signature at the bottom of the page.

It belonged to Dorian Kells.

The date beside it was three months before their wedding.

Mireya's stomach tightened. Her husband had known about the document before he married her. But why would he conceal something so important?

Before she could examine the photograph further, another message appeared from Daniel.

Mrs Kells, there's something else. Your husband wasn't the only person who signed that document.

A second photograph followed.

This time, the signature belonged to someone Mireya had believed was dead.

JULIAN KELLS.

And beneath his signature was a handwritten note that changed everything.

If Mireya ever returns to Calder, make sure Roderick never finds her.

Mireya read it again, her pulse racing.

Why had Julian Kells left a warning about her?

And who exactly was Roderick?

Her phone suddenly rang.

It was Dorian.

She answered without hesitation.

His first words made her blood run cold.

"Where did you get that document, Mireya?"