Chapter 1

For three years after we married, I endured countless treatments and endless rounds of IVF injections, all for the hope of having just one child.

Then I learned the truth. My husband had taken that chance from me. He made sure I would never carry a baby, and I lost my uterus because of him.

Everything he showed me—his warmth, his love, and his care—was a lie, part of his twisted scientific experiment.

I used every means to escape him, expose him, and send him to hell. And in the end... he still claimed he loved me.

*****

I stood outside the doctor's office, overhearing the voices inside, and felt a chill deep in my bones.

Through the blinds, I heard Steven Brooks' voice. "She's still preparing for pregnancy, taking her injections on schedule every day."

Laughter filled my ears. I pressed myself against the wall and held my breath.

Someone said, "Steven, since Laura's obsessed with having a baby, she'll probably freak out if she ever finds the truth. Don't you think?"

Steven replied indifferently, "She's always wanted a baby, hasn't she? Then let her keep trying."

There was a sharp rip of paper, and I heard Steven toss whatever it was into the trash.

"That operation went off without a hitch. Only you could pull off something that perfect, Steven," the other man said.

I felt like my world had shattered in that instant.

A piece of paper slipped out from under the door. I bent down and picked it up.

The words "Hysterectomy Report" burned into my eyes.

My legs went numb beneath me, and I sank to the floor.

In my blurred vision, the date on the report jumped out at me. It was three years ago.

It was right after our wedding, during that so-called "general gynecological check-up", the surgery he swore was no big deal.

I clamped my hand over my mouth, trying desperately not to let my sobs escape.

For the past three years, I subjected myself to every fertility treatment—injections, medication, and IVF.

Every time I failed, Steven would squeeze my hand so gently, lock eyes with me, and swear that it would work next time.

It turned out the whole thing was nothing but a cruel lie.

I staggered out of the hospital, feeling the staff's eyes burn into me.

Did everyone know the truth except me? Was I really just the clueless one in this twisted show?

After I went home, I turned my place upside down, digging out all those test reports and pill bottles that had piled up over the years.

All the hope I'd clung to for three years was based on nothing but lies.

My hands wouldn't stop shaking. I grabbed a pill bottle and smashed it against the wall—glass and medicine exploding everywhere in a furious spray.

The sharp click of the lock yanked me out of my meltdown. Steven was back.

"What's wrong? Was today's treatment tough?" Steven stroked my face, his voice soft and concerned as always. "You look really pale. It's been hard, hasn't it?"

I forced myself to smile, swallowing my pain. "I'm fine. I just feel a bit worn out."

His eyes filled with concern as he gently stroked my cheek. "Don't push yourself too hard. We'll take it slow."

Every word from him felt like a punch.

"I've got some big news today," he said, pulling out his phone. "I managed to get in touch with one of the top fertility specialists overseas. He's got a brand-new treatment that's perfect for you."

I nodded, playing along with him.

On the way to the hospital, my phone kept buzzing.

It was our friends, Natalie Lane and Michael Reed, sending us those so-called "encouraging" messages. Their fake concern just made me sick.

How was I supposed to keep smiling after finding out the people I trusted most had been lying to me?

When I walked into the hospital's VIP room, Natalie and Michael were already waiting for me.

Their eyes met, exchanging a glance loaded with a silent understanding.

"Mrs. Brooks, we're really worried about you," Michael said, slipping on his mask as he set a test report in front of me. "Your ovarian function is seriously declining."

"We've got a new treatment that's super effective," Natalie said, passing me a glossy brochure. "The cost could be quite high, though."

"Forget about the cost. If there's even the slightest chance, we'll go for it," Steven said firmly, sounding almost desperate.

I stared at how anxious he was, and in that moment, everything finally made sense.

This wasn't just lies—it was outright manipulation and exploitation.

Natalie pulled out a stack of paperwork. "Here's the consent form. You'll need to sign it."

Buried in all that fine print, my eyes landed on a tiny line. [Experimental treatment. Risks unknown.]

"What does this mean?" I asked.

Steven barely glanced at the words, brushing them off like it was nothing. "It's just the usual clinical trial paperwork. They always spell out the risks."

He handed me the pen, his voice tinged with expectation. "Come on, hurry up and sign it. Spots are limited."

I squeezed the pen so hard, staring at all three of them, suspicion twisting inside me.

"Let me check the details one more time," I said.

Steven's expression grew tense. "No need. It's just the usual paperwork."

He tried to take the papers back, but I clung to them like my life depended on it.

"Since this is about me, I deserve to know exactly what's involved," I replied, not backing down.

Natalie and Michael shot each other a sharp look.

"You haven't been yourself lately," Steven said, frowning slightly, his eyes showing concern.

That was funny. Steven, were you actually concerned about me, or was it just your precious experiment that had got you stressed?

I stood up, avoiding his gaze. "Give me a minute."

I went to the restroom at the end of the corridor. I locked the door and slid down to the floor.

The lockscreen photo on my phone showed a happy moment of Steven and me, but all that supposed warmth was nothing but a fake.

I hit record and quietly slipped my phone into my pocket.

When I stepped back into the office, the three of them were whispering among themselves, but as soon as they saw me, their conversation cut off abruptly.

"So, have you made up your mind?" Steven asked, his eyes locked onto mine with an unwavering gaze.

I picked up the pen and signed my name on the consent form.

Michael flashed a bright smile. "Great. We'll kick off your first treatment next week."

"Can't we do it today?" I asked, trying to sound disappointed just for show.

"We need some time to prepare," Natalie explained. "Plus, it's pretty expensive. Dr. Brooks needs to sort out the payment."

"How much is it?" I asked.

"300 thousand dollars per session," Michael replied. "You might need three to five sessions."

I glanced at Steven, faking a shocked look. "Seriously?"

"It's worth it," he said, squeezing my hand. That look in his eyes was once enough to make me believe every word.

The ride home was silent. I stared out the window, watching the lights blur into a sea of color.

Steven's phone rang. He shot me a quick glance, answered, and said "Got it" before hanging up.

Ten minutes later, we pulled up in front of a luxury apartment.

"Sorry, I've got an emergency at the hospital," Steven said. "Have some rest. I'll be home late."

He pressed a soft kiss on my forehead before leaving.

I swallowed the pain and nodded.

Inside the elevator, I hit the button for the underground parking garage.

I slipped out the back door and grabbed a cab to Steven's hospital.

The hospital was creepily quiet at night. Using Steven's access card, I sneaked into the records room.

All the records from three years ago were stacked here. I ran my fingers over rows and rows of files, desperate to dig out the truth.

Finally, I found the real surgery record in a safe tucked in the corner.

Steven performed the surgery himself, with Michael assisting. Together, they had taken out my uterus. The reason was listed as "Patient consented".

Consented? I never signed up for any of this.

I collapsed to the ground, tears streaming down my face.

Three years of relentless attempts and desperate struggle turned out to be a cruel joke.

And I had been the pathetic one.