Chapter 1

Charlotte Dorsey hit someone while driving drunk, but it was Vincent Oliver, my fiancé, who sent me to prison in her place.

During the prison visit, Vincent looked at me through the glass and said, "Charlotte has a heart condition. She couldn't handle prison. Do three years for her, and when you get out, we'll get married."

I clenched the pregnancy test results in my hand, forcing a bitter smile. "Fine."

For three years, I had a miscarriage, was beaten, and attempted suicide. But Vincent never came to see me.

The day I was released, he showed up holding Charlotte close. "You've been through a lot. The wedding is set for next month."

I nodded calmly.

The next day, Oliver Group's core data was leaked, and Charlotte's explicit photos spread like wildfire online.

Vincent barged into my place like a lunatic, only to see me fixing the tie of his biggest competitor, Quaid Wright.

Quaid kissed my forehead. "Consider Oliver Group's bankruptcy a gift. Do you like it?"

I swirled my wine glass and flashed Vincent a sweet smile. "Oh, I almost forgot. This is my husband. As for you two, it's your turn to reunite, in prison."

*****

The cold glass mirrored Vincent's blank, emotionless face.

His slender fingers pressed the intercom, and his voice came through the speaker, so familiar, yet it felt like it belonged to a stranger. "Charlotte couldn't handle prison. Do three years for her, and when you get out, we'll get married."

I clenched the pregnancy test results in my hand, the flimsy paper suddenly feeling impossibly heavy.

The tiny black-and-white spot on the ultrasound, the little gestational sac, was a secret I'd only discovered yesterday.

I'd planned to tell him tonight, over a candlelit dinner, hoping to see his face light up with happiness.

Now, all of that felt like a cruel joke. "Vincent, do you have any idea that I'm—"

"Elisa Maddox, this is what you owe Charlotte." He cut me off, and his gaze was icy, colder than I'd ever seen. "If you hadn't picked a fight with me that day, Charlotte wouldn't have gotten upset and gone drinking. This mess wouldn't have happened."

I nearly burst out laughing at how absurd his accusation sounded.

Charlotte was the one who hit someone while driving drunk, but somehow, I was the one who got blamed for it.

I looked at the man I'd loved for seven years, and suddenly, he felt like a total stranger. "And what if I refuse?"

"Then your father's company will be bankrupt by tomorrow," Vincent said, his tone so casual that it was like he was discussing the weather.

He continued, "And your mom has a heart condition. I think she could survive that kind of shock, right?"

My blood ran cold.

He knew exactly what my weakest spots were.

Seven years of love turned out to be nothing but a carefully calculated deal.

I looked down at the pregnancy report, my fingers gently tracing the tiny black dot.

"Alright," I replied. I was surprised at how calm I sounded. "I'll take the fall for her. Three years."

A flicker of something complicated crossed Vincent's eyes, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by that same cold indifference. "That's the Elisa I know. Three years later, I'll give you a grand wedding."

I let out a genuine laugh. "Remember your promise, Vincent."

When the visit ended, he stood up and left without so much as a backward glance.

On the way back to my cell, as the guard walked ahead, I quietly shredded the pregnancy report and let the pieces drift away on the breeze.

That was the baby of Vincent and me.

It was the last dream I ever dared to hold onto.

Now, I was finally awake.

*****

The first week behind bars, nausea hit me like a tidal wave, leaving me dizzy and helpless.

The pregnancy symptoms were magnified by the terrible environment around me.

I curled up on the icy bunk, both hands protectively wrapped around my stomach.

This tiny life was the last thread tying me to Vincent.

It was the only warmth left in my world.

The other women in the cell eyed me like predators, so I kept my head down and tried to blend into the background.

But trouble still found me.

"Hey, newbie. Do you know how things work in here?" A woman with a scar on her face kicked my bunk as she spoke.