My Celebrity Wife Thought I’d Never Leave

Chapter 8

24 hours later.

Lauren had just stepped out of an exhausting four-hour studio board meeting when her phone buzzed in her hand.

Steve: I have the results. Are you in your office?

Lauren: Come up now.

Two minutes later, Steve pushed open the doors of her private executive suite. His face was pale, his mouth drawn into a tight, grim line.

Lauren stood up from her desk. "Well? Tell me!"

Steve didn't speak right away. He slid a fresh medical folder onto her desk.

"Nina is definitely your biological daughter," Steve said, his voice cautious, almost hesitant. "100% match. There was no mix-up at the hospital."

Lauren gasped, a massive wave of relief washing over her. "Thank God! I knew it! I knew she was mine!"

"But..." Steve interjected, his voice dropping into a dark register. "Jason's result wasn't wrong either."

Lauren’s smile froze mid-air. "What did you just say?"

"Nina is your daughter, Lauren," Steve said slowly, staring straight into her eyes. "But Jason Hart is not her father."

The air left the room.

Lauren grabbed the report, her eyes flying across the lines of black text.

MATERNITY CONFIRMED: 99.99% PATERNITY EXCLUDED: 0.00%

"How... how could that be?" Lauren’s head spun. She read the conclusion three times, four times, five times. The letters started blurring together. "This doesn't make any sense! If she's my child, and I was with Jason... how is he not the father?!"

Steve stood across the desk, looking profoundly troubled. He crossed his arms, shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and hesitated for a painfully long time.

"Lauren..." Steve finally spoke, his voice dropping so low it was almost a whisper. "Do you remember... right before you and Jason got married?"

Lauren snapped her eyes up to him. "What are you talking about?"

"Sixteen years ago," Steve said carefully. "Before you officially tied the knot. You went to that private post-production party in Bel-Air. The one packed with A-list actors, directors, big-time producers, and financiers."

Lauren’s eyes widened slightly.

"You drank way too much that night, Lauren," Steve continued, watching her reaction like a hawk. "You completely blacked out. There was a three-hour window that night you couldn't account for."

"Nothing happened that night!" Lauren shouted instantly, her palms slamming down on the desk. "I told you back then, and I'm telling you now! I would have known if someone touched me! Nothing happened!"

Steve raised his hands defensively. "I know, I know! And I believed you. Look, the entertainment industry is a sewer. We both know plenty of people in this business whose personal lives are disgusting. But you were always different. For all the years I've represented you, you kept your hands clean. You stayed loyal."

He paused, pointing a trembling finger at the paper on her desk.

"But Lauren... look at the paper. If nothing happened that night... then how do you explain Nina's DNA?!"

The question hit Lauren like a physical blow.

Her mind reeled. ‘Could something really have happened while I was passed out? Was I targeted? Did someone…’

A cold, suffocating wave of terror washed over her. The thought that she might have been violated sixteen years ago without even knowing it made her stomach turn violently.

She pulled out her phone with frantic, shaking fingers and dialed a number she hadn't called in years.

It rang three times before a smooth, deep voice picked up.

"Lauren? Wow, long time no see. What's up?"

It was Marcus Vance—an A-list actor who had been her close co-star back then and the person who had dragged her out of that party sixteen years ago.

"Marcus," Lauren gasped, not even bothering with greetings. Her voice was frantic. "I need you to tell me the absolute truth about the party at the producer's mansion sixteen years ago. The night I passed out in the VIP lounge."

There was a long silence on the other end of the line.

"Lauren? What is this about?" Marcus asked, clearly confused.

"Just answer me!" Lauren screamed into the receiver, tears breaking through her voice. "Did anyone go into that room with me?! Did anyone touch me?! Did anything happen to me while I was unconscious?!"

On the other side of the line, Marcus thought for a long, agonizing moment. Lauren held her breath, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.

Finally, Marcus spoke with absolute, unwavering certainty.

"No, Lauren. Absolutely not."

Lauren's breath hitched. "Are you sure?!"

"I am sure," Marcus said firmly. "I was sitting right outside the VIP room on the patio the entire night. Nobody went in that room except the maid who brought in bottles of water. I personally carried you to my car and drove you straight back to Jason at two in the morning. Nothing happened to you. I swear on my life."

Lauren let out the breath she had been holding for what felt like an eternity.

Her phone slipped out of her hand and clattered onto the desk. She slumped back into her chair, her body trembling so violently she nearly burst into tears of pure, unadulterated relief.

Nothing had happened.

She hadn't been assaulted.

She hadn't cheated.

She was completely, entirely innocent.

But within ten seconds, as the adrenaline began to fade, that overwhelming relief twisted into something far more dangerous.

Pure, scorching rage.

Lauren’s hands curled into tight fists, her nails digging deep into her palms.

Jason.

He had dragged her through hell. He had thrown lab reports in her face, threatened her with divorce, walked out on their home, humiliated her in public, and made her doubt her own sanity and virtue! He had made her feel like a dirty, unfaithful wife!

And for what?!

"He did this to me..." Lauren hissed through gritted teeth, her eyes flashing with a venomous glare.

"Lauren?" Steve asked, taken aback by the sudden shift in her face.

"I did nothing wrong!" Lauren snarled, standing up so fast her leather chair slammed hard against the floor-to-ceiling windows behind her. "I was faithful to him for sixteen years! I paid his bills, I built his life, and he dares to accuse me of cheating?! He dares to demand a divorce and drag my name through the mud?!"

"Lauren, calm down—"

"No!" she snapped, turning her furious glare onto Steve. "I tried to be nice! I offered to let him come back, I offered to forgive his little temper tantrum! But he wants to play dirty? He wants to fight me?!"

She grabbed her phone off the desk, her eyes cold as ice.

"If Jason Hart wants a war, I'm going to give him one he won't survive."