Chapter 1

I had given birth to my husband Philip Hayes's firstborn son, his heir. He wept tears of joy, holding me close and whispering, "My darling wife, my love."

But as I lay there, spent and fading into sleep, a low murmur outside the door jolted me awake.

It was Philip. He was speaking to the butler. "She's asleep. Take care of it. Get rid of the bastard and bring me Claire's child."

The word "bastard" struck me like a knife to the chest.

Every tender word. Every gentle touch. All of it was an act. A performance meant to lower my guard so he could swap our son for another woman's and have his own flesh and blood killed.

I bit down so hard on my lip that I tasted blood, holding back the scream building in my throat. Clutching my baby to my chest, I slipped out through the window.

*****

When I gave birth to Philip's firstborn son, he wept with joy.

He gripped my hand tightly, his tall frame trembling with emotion.

He held me and whispered, again and again, "My darling wife." The devotion in his eyes looked so real, I couldn't have doubted him if I'd tried.

I truly believed him.

Three years after marrying into the Hayes family, I finally bore him a son. At last, I felt at ease and truly happy.

After the birth, I was completely spent and drifted off to sleep with him watching over me tenderly. But my rest was troubled. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a sense of danger lurked, creeping closer.

I woke with a start to voices outside the door, deliberately hushed.

It was Philip, the same man who had sworn he would love me forever.

He was giving orders to the butler, Henry Andersen. "My wife is sound asleep. Do it now. Get rid of this bastard and bring Claire's child here."

That word bastard plunged into my heart like a frozen dagger. The pain tore through me, turning my blood to ice.

So his tenderness had been nothing but a performance. Every thoughtful gesture was a mask.

He had only wanted me to let down my guard so he could exchange our baby for Claire's and have our own child killed.

I bit my lip until the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.

I could not make a sound. I could not let him know I was awake. If he found out, he would kill not only my child but me as well.

I turned toward the wall, my whole body trembling uncontrollably with fear and rage.

My baby, the one I had carried for ten months, the one I had nearly died to bring into this world, lay right beside me, sleeping so peacefully, completely unaware of the storm about to break.

He had no idea that his own father had already marked him for death.

Outside the door, Philip's voice came again, edged with impatience. "Move faster. Don't leave any trace behind. Claire is waiting for good news."

Claire Newton. My sweet cousin. The girl who used to follow me everywhere, nervously calling my name.

So they had been carrying on behind my back all along. She had even borne his child.

That was why Philip had been so overjoyed today. Not for me. Not for our son.

He was ecstatic because now he could openly and legitimately pass off his bastard with Claire as the Hayes family's firstborn heir.

What a ruthless plan. What a heartless pair they were.

I heard the latch shift quietly. They were coming in.

There was no more time. I could not afford to hesitate.

I sat up abruptly, clutching my baby to my chest with every ounce of strength I possessed.

The pain from childbirth tore through me like I was being ripped open, but I barely noticed.

My baby was all that mattered. I had to protect him.

I threw off the covers and stepped barefoot onto the icy floor. The cold shot up my spine and into my skull.

I scanned the room. The front door was impossible. Only the window remained.

My courtyard sat in the most secluded corner of the estate, chosen for its peace.

Outside the window, a patch of feather reed grass stretched. It was my only way out.

Holding my baby close, I pushed against the window with everything I had left.

The window groaned open. A blast of cold wind slammed into me, making me shiver.

I curled myself around the baby, shielding him from the icy gusts with my own body.

Then I tumbled out the window and hit the ground hard. My knees smashed against the stones, sending a sharp, stabbing pain through me, but I could not stop.

Behind me, I heard the door crash open.

Henry's voice was hushed and urgent. "She's gone!"

Then Philip's roar came, echoing across the estate. "Seal the grounds. Search everywhere. Leave no stone unturned.

"She just gave birth. She couldn't have gone far.

"Bring her to me, dead or alive. And that bastard, make sure he does not survive."

I crawled into the reeds, too terrified to look back.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, whipped away by the wind.

I kept telling myself. Helen Stanton, you shouldn't cry. If you started sobbing, you would not be able to keep moving. If you stopped, you and your baby were as good as dead.