Love on wall Street

Name: Love on wall Street
Rating: 5.0 (1 reviews)

mark Sanderson

Romance | Ongoing

5.0

Comment(s)

View

Chapters

Lana thought she found her forever in Mark-until her dream turned into a nightmare. Abused, neglected, and left to raise their child alone, she finally walks away. Alone and desperate, A friend introduces her to Rollins, a reclusive billionaire with a heart big enough for two. But when her ex-husband returns seeking redemption, Lana must decide: return to the past she escaped or embrace the future she never believed she deserved. One woman. One child. Two men. One love that changes everything.

Pregnancy Bully Arrogant/Dominant Noble Billionaires Workplace Runaway bride Comeback Pregnancy Badboy

Chapter 5 Alone in the Crowd

06-01 16:32

Chapter 1 Married but Miserable

The fluorescent lights flashed above Lana's head as she wiped down the diner's last table, her body hurting from the fourteen-hour shift she had just completed. The greasy and coffee-soaked cheap plastic apron was plastered to her tummy. Her back hurt, her fingers were sore, and her shoes were no match for her throbbing feet.

It was almost midnight. Again.

Lana Carter looked at the clock and groaned. Every night, she followed the same routine: work herself to the bone, get the last bus home, and hope Mark was not drunk or screaming.

The tips tonight were horrible. Just over $20-barely enough for tomorrow's bus fare and a pack of diapers.

She tightened her coat over her slim figure as she went out into the cold air, the neon "OPEN 24 HOURS" sign buzzing softly behind her. It was late March, yet the city held on to winter like a shattered promise.

The streets were virtually vacant, with just the distant sound of a siren and the odd screech of tyres. Lana waited at the bus stop, attempting to keep her eyes open. She had not slept more than four hours each night in months. Not since Mark lost his job and made it her obligation to maintain their lives together.

When she entered their one-bedroom flat, the familiar odour of booze and stale cigarettes hit her like a wall. Her heart fell.

Mark was home.

She moved slowly into the living room. He was lying on the couch, shirtless, with an empty bottle of whiskey on the floor and his phone shining on his chest.

The screen displayed a woman's name, Tasha.

Lana's throat clenched, but she did not say anything. She was too exhausted to fight.

"You are late," Mark said without looking up. "I have been famished."

"You could have ordered takeaway," she said quietly, setting her purse on the floor.

He scoffed. "With what money? Oh, sure, you hoard stuff like a tiny rat. "You think working at that greasy spoon makes you better than me?"

"No, Mark," she said, moving to the kitchen. "I simply assumed you could have"

His voice raised sharply. "Thought what? Should I cook for myself like a damn woman?"

Lana closed her eyes and suppressed her rage. She opened the fridge, which was half-empty as usual, and took out a leftover sandwich she had brought from work.

She placed it on the countertop. "Here. "Eat this.

Mark rose abruptly, wobbling toward her. "What? No kiss?" No 'Hello honey, how was your day?' "You do not love me anymore, right?"

"I am exhausted, Mark."

"You are always exhausted," he said. "Are you tired of me? "Are you tired with your life?"

Yes.

But she could not express it. Not yet.

She turned aside, fighting back tears that endangered her serenity. She had learnt years ago not to cry in front of Mark. Tears only drew mockery-or worse.

She slid softly into their modest bedroom while he munched on his sandwich. She sat on the side of the bed and removed her shoes. Her socks were wet. Her toes were blistered.

A little flutter under her tummy drew her attention. She put a hand on her stomach and smiled slightly.

Sixteen weeks.

She had not informed him yet. How could she? He would have already treated her as if she were worthless. What would he do when he learned about the baby?

She still hoped. Maybe the baby will transform him. Having a father could push him to mature. To care. To love.

She laid down on the bed, weary, with her arm wrapped across her tummy.

Lana woke up the next morning to the sound of yelling.

Mark was on the telephone. "I do not care what she said, Tasha. She is nothing. You are the one I want, baby... Simply waiting for the proper moment. "She is not even that attractive."

Lana curled into herself, the words cutting more than she anticipated. She chewed her lips so hard that they bled.

He claimed she was nothing.

She waited for him to go before washing and dressed. Her second job at a dry-cleaning company had fewer hours but was just as demanding. She spent the day folding shirts and avoiding inappropriate remarks from clients. Her boss, Greg, paid her in cash to avoid taxes. She did not mind; anything helped.

On her lunch break, she contacted her doctor's office to confirm her upcoming appointment. She would have to miss work again, and Mark would most likely penalize her for it.

Nonetheless, the baby's fluttering motions were the only true solace she knew. In the middle of the upheaval, this small life within her reminded her that something good might still emerge from her ruined world.

When she returned home that evening, Mark was there waiting for her.

"I saw your financial statement," he said coldly. "Why are you concealing the money?"

Lana froze. "I am saving for the baby."

He laughed grimly. "What, baby?"

She paused.

"I am pregnant, Mark. "I am sixteen weeks old."

Silence.

Then anger.

"You-what?!" he exclaimed. "Are you attempting to trap me?"

"This is our baby, Mark. I assumed you would want"

He approached her. "You had an incorrect thought. Do you believe this landfill is a suitable setting for a baby? You can not even keep me happy, and now you want a baby to wail all night?

Lana stood her ground. "I will raise it. Even if you do not wish to take part."

He grinned. "Damn right! I do not. Do not expect a cent from me."

He slammed the door as he exited.

Lana sat on the floor, finally crying.

It is not because of him.

Because her final hope had just perished.