Chapter 1
My fiancé was a forensic pathologist. Upright. Righteous. Hated evil with a passion.
But to protect his precious first love, he destroyed evidence with his own hands, erasing the fingerprints from a headless corpse, and dissolving the body with acid.
Inside that body was a tiny embryo. He flushed it down the drain as if it were nothing.
He didn't know that the headless corpse was me, the fiancée he hated so much.
And when he found out the truth, he completely lost his mind.
*****
Most of my body was buried in the foul, reeking mud, already starting to bloat from decomposition.
Jake Walker's big hand gently propped up my neck.
He stood there for a long time, then pulled a glass jar from inside his coat. It was filled with acid.
Jake was my fiancé.
He was here to save the love of his life from kidnappers.
An hour earlier, Jake had received a call from an unknown number.
"Dr. Walker," the voice said mockingly, "Recognize this voice?"
"Jake, save me!" Iris Mitchell's hoarse scream echoed through the phone.
"Destroy all the evidence. Help us get away scot-free," the caller demanded. "Otherwise, the next body on your autopsy table will be your little darling right here."
"Jake, I'm so scared. Save me!" Iris's terrified voice came.
The caller gave Jake a location—where to dump my body. They wanted him to wipe every trace of evidence, including the DNA on me.
Jake and I had grown up together.
After graduation, I became a police officer, and he became a forensic pathologist.
Six years into our careers, it felt natural for us to get engaged.
But Iris, Jake's junior from university, always clung to him, calling him a genius.
Jake had always been the type who couldn't stand injustice—incorruptible, with zero tolerance for evil.
I honestly believed he'd never betray his convictions.
I never would've guessed that, for Iris, he'd actually show up here.
As Jake moved, I felt my soul being dragged along with him, his every action stabbing my heart.
Jake's movements were quick and professional, every step cold and methodical.
He handled my corpse with a chilling detachment, as if I were nothing more than a pile of rotting flesh.
He wiped out every trace of evidence inside me, leaving my body mangled and unrecognizable.
As he raised his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead, a tiny, formed fetus slowly slid out of my body.
The acid had burned it so badly it looked monstrous.
Rain washed away the blood on the fetal membrane. Jake's throat bobbed. And then, suddenly, he bent over and puked his guts out.
I almost laughed watching him fall apart like that.
That was his kid he was grossed out over.
Jake—who had autopsied over a hundred corpses without blinking—was now throwing up at the sight of his own child.
He loved kids so much, and had no idea I was pregnant with his child.
When I found out I was pregnant not long ago, Jake was still resenting me over his mother's death.
He'd screamed at me, said I always acted reckless during missions, that I made too many enemies and dragged his mom into it.
He probably wished I was dead anyway. Maybe when the autopsy results came out, he'd finally be able to breathe a sigh of relief.
Too bad I was dead. And I died carrying our child.
Not that he cared.
Jake kept his head low, his face dark and unreadable.
On the way home, he tossed the fetus into a sewer like it was trash.
"No!" I dove toward the fetus.
But when I reached out, my hand passed right through it. The tiny form slipped through my palm and dropped into the grimy sewer, vanishing down the drain.
I collapsed by the manhole, staring at Jake's back as he walked away without so much as a glance.
I couldn't believe he was so heartless.
After everything was over, Jake finally got a call from the same unknown number. He clutched his chest and let out a deep sigh of relief.
The caller sounded all smug and playful. "You really are a pro, Dr. Walker. I kept my word. Your darling is safe and sound now. Much appreciated."
*****
The next day, my body was found.
The scene was swarming with onlookers, and as soon as Jake showed up, all eyes turned to him.
He was 6 feet tall, his broad, imposing figure was hard to miss. A blue surgical mask covered half his face.
The crowd instinctively parted to make way for him.
Jake acted as if it was his first time at the scene. He reached out and carefully examined my body.
"She looks so young. What a pity," he said, trying to sound casual.
But even though his tone was light, the faint tremor in his arm betrayed the anxiety he was desperately trying to hide.
Maybe it was because the body looked way too familiar—almost exactly like someone he knew all too well.
His brow furrowed, and his hand shot out to grip my ankle.