Chapter 1
When I was eight months pregnant, I was pushed down a hillside by kidnappers.
Lucian Bates lost his mind, frantically searching the mountain with his men. When he finally found me, covered in blood, he held me tight and sobbed uncontrollably.
He prayed at the chapel, promising to sacrifice ten years of his life if I survived.
But the first day I woke up, I overheard him talking to his assistant.
"Did you delete all the surveillance footage?" he asked.
The assistant's voice trembled. "Mr. Bates, she's your wife. Are you really going to do this?"
Lucian's voice was cold. "I just want the baby she's carrying dead.
"Stella has suffered too much abroad. Her son must return to the Bates family with dignity.
"As for Joanne.
"Marrying me was never meant for her. She's living a life she stole for herself."
So that kidnapping wasn't an accident after all.
If that was how things were, then I'd return this life I stole.
******
As I tumbled down, I desperately tried to protect my unborn child, but blood kept pouring out all the way.
I kept thinking, if I survived this, I'd confront Lucian face to face—who was really out to hurt me and my baby?
But now, there was no need to ask anymore.
The answer was waiting just outside the door.
The assistant said, "When she wakes up, she won't be able to take it. The baby's gone. What will—"
"Enough," Lucian cut him off. "As long as she's alive, that's enough. She can take care of Stella's child. Joanne's soft; just talk her into it, she'll go along with it."
My jaw clenched so hard I thought I might crack a tooth.
The door opened, and someone walked over to the bed; their fingers lightly traced my cheek.
I used to melt every time he did that.
Lucian leaned in, his breath warm against my forehead. "You nearly gave me a heart attack.
"When I saw you fall down that mountain, I swear my heart almost stopped."
He held my hand; his palm was feverish, and he was even shaking a little.
"I couldn't save the baby. It's all my fault. I wish I could've taken your pain instead," he went on.
Lucian regained his composure and quietly asked the nurse, "How long until she wakes up?"
"Very soon. The anesthesia's already worn off," the nurse replied.
"Do what you can to ease her pain," he said, then kissed my forehead softly. "Joanne's always been sensitive to pain."
My eyes burned, but not a single tear would fall.
I slowly opened my eyes, meeting his bloodshot gaze.
"How's the baby?" I asked.
He stiffened, and tears streamed down his face. "I'm sorry. I couldn't save our baby.
"I couldn't protect our child."
Lucian stayed by my side in the hospital for three days.
Every morning, he'd personally wipe my face. At night, he'd sit by my bed, keeping watch as I slept. If I so much as frowned, he'd go running for the doctor.
When I didn't want to eat, he'd feed me spoonful by spoonful, like he was scared I'd disappear the very next second.
The nurses doing their rounds would whisper behind my back, saying I might have rotten luck, but at least I married a man who really loved me.
On the fourth day, I was finally able to get out of bed.
Lucian walked me to the bathroom, then crouched down and slipped my feet into the slippers.
"Take it slow," he said, looking up at me. "The doctor said you're still weak, so don't try to overdo it."
I lowered my eyes and asked softly, "Did they catch who did it?"
He smoothed out the cuffs of my pants, keeping his voice steady. "The police are still investigating. Don't worry about it; just focus on getting your strength back."
The way he didn't even flinch made one thing crystal clear to me.
This man was even more ruthless than I ever thought possible.
At noon, Lucian got a call and had to leave in a hurry, something urgent at the company.
He was in such a rush that he left his backup phone on the nightstand.
I tried the password three times, but none of them worked.
Suddenly, I remembered what he said outside the door: "Stella's suffered too much abroad."
On a whim, I entered Stella's birthday.
And the phone unlocked.
The last message on WhatsApp was sent just half an hour ago.
Stella: [Is she awake? Did she freak out?]
Lucian: [Yeah, she's up. Didn't make a scene.]
Stella: [You promised me you wouldn't let her baby survive.]
Lucian: [The baby's gone. Don't dwell on it. I'll set things up for you and Ethan to come back in a few days.]
There was a photo attached.
Lucian was holding a little boy, about four or five years old, their faces pressed together as they both smiled.
The more I scrolled up, the chat history felt like knives, each message stabbing me right in the heart.