On our eighth anniversary, I found out I was pregnant.

That same day, my phone buzzed with an alert from my husband’s car tracking app. His car had exploded.

My stomach dropped. Tears blurred my vision. After eight years of marriage, four miscarriages, and countless nights spent crying myself to sleep, I finally had another chance to be a mother. But Adrian wouldn’t be a part of it. Our baby would grow up without a father.

The tracker showed that his phone was across town, alive. But the app insisted his car had exploded. None of it made sense.

I grabbed my keys and drove.

Minutes later, I spotted his black Mercedes parked in a deserted lot.

Through the half-open window, I saw him—Adrian with his shirt open, and his fingers tangled in long dark hair as he kissed a woman’s neck.

Celeste.

My adopted sister.

The air left my lungs. My chest caved in, but I didn’t make a sound. I pressed myself against the side of the car, hand clamped over my mouth as silent tears ran down my face.

Adrian, the man I loved and had been married to for eight years

And my adopted sister, the same person that Adrian had claimed to despise because of how she had made my life a living abyss.

Just when I thought the worst had happened, Adrian's phone rang.

He muttered, voice hoarse. "Hold on."

He answered with irritation. "What is it, Doctor?"

A pause. Then he grinned.

Adrian ended the call and pulled Celeste close as a genuine smile spread across his face. It was something I hadn’t seen for years.

"You're pregnant," he said softly.

Celeste gasped, her hands flying to her stomach. "Are you serious?"

"Yes." He kissed her deeply. "And the doctor said your womb is responding perfectly to the treatment. One more test next week to confirm everything is healed, and then we can finally start our family properly."

Happy tears streamed down Celeste's face. "Oh my God. Adrian, we're going to have a baby."

"We are." He cradled her face in his hands. "You're going to be an amazing mother."

My heart bled as my hand moved instinctively to my own stomach, where my baby was growing.

Celeste’s smile faded slowly. “What about Elena?”

Adrian’s smile grew cold. “You don’t need to worry, baby. After next week’s test shows you’re healed, I won’t need her anymore. She’s an idiot. She has nothing and no one. She’ll end up back in some countryside hovel where she belongs.”

“I still can’t believe she never figured it out,” Celeste laughed. “You told her it was genetic incompatibility, and she believed you.”

“Elena’s an idiot,” Adrian said dismissively. “She signed every consent form I put in front of her without reading a single line. The experimental treatments, the tissue samples, the terminations—she authorized all of it, thinking they were insurance forms or whatever bullshit I told her.”

“Those four babies,” Celeste murmured. “You really used them to cure my womb?”

“Every single one,” Adrian replied without remorse. “Different stages of development, different protocols. And it worked. You’re cured, and you’re carrying my child.”

Celeste giggled softly. “Thanks to Elena’s babies.”

My knees went weak, and I almost dropped to the floor. It became hard to breathe, and my ears rang. My vision blurred, and for a moment I thought I would lose consciousness.

My four babies hadn’t died from miscarriage—they had been murdered by their father, for my sister.

My mind flashed back to each miscarriage. The pain. The blood. The hospital rooms.

After each loss, Celeste would show up at the hospital with homemade chicken soup. “I made this especially for you,” she would say, her eyes full of fake tears. “I know how much you’re hurting. I’m here for you, sis.”

She would stay the night, sleeping in the chair beside my bed, holding my hand whenever I woke up crying.

Adrian would be there too, stroking my hair, whispering, “We’ll try again. We’ll have our baby. I promise.”

Four babies murdered. Used as experiments to cure my sister's infertility so she could carry my husband's child.

Adrian thought I had no one. But he was wrong.

He didn’t know that five years ago, when his company nearly collapsed, the anonymous investor who saved and funded his entire empire was me.

Under my maiden name, Elena Rossi, I owned fifty percent of Moretti Enterprises.

Shaking, I gathered every piece of evidence as I did the one thing Adrian had warned me about.

I called the only man Adrian fears—his greatest enemy, Ivan Romano.

“Who is this?”

“My name is Elena Moretti,” I whispered. “I need your help.”

“And why would Moretti’s wife call his enemy?”

“Because I want him destroyed,” I said. “And you’re the only man who hates him as much as I do.”

There was silence. Then a low, dark laugh.

“Mrs. Moretti,” Ivan said, “I accept your invitation to collaborate.”

Adrian betrayed me, ruined my marriage, and caused the deaths of my four children.

Now I will join forces with his most powerful enemy to seize his empire—and bankrupt him!

Chapter 1

Elena's POV

On our eighth anniversary, I found out I was pregnant.

That same day, my phone buzzed with an alert from my husband’s car tracking app. His car had exploded.

My stomach dropped. Tears blurred my vision. “No… please, God, no.”

After eight years of marriage, four miscarriages, and countless nights spent crying myself to sleep, I finally had another chance to be a mother. But Adrian wouldn’t be a part of it. Our baby would grow up without a father.

I refused to accept it.

I called Adrian several times. No answer.

The tracker showed that his phone was across town, alive. But the app insisted his car had exploded. None of it made sense.

I grabbed my keys and drove.

Minutes later, I spotted his black Mercedes parked in a deserted lot. It was untouched. No smoke, no damage. Relief flooded through me—the app must have malfunctioned again. It had done that before, then I paused.

Why was he here? Why hadn’t he picked up my calls?

I stepped out quietly and moved closer. I could see shadows through the dark windows.

Then a sound slipped through the half-open window.

A woman's groan.

A man's low groan.

I froze, covering my mouth before I could gasp. My mind screamed at me to turn back, to leave, to pretend I never came here, but my body refused to obey.

Through the half-open window, I saw him—Adrian with his shirt open, and his fingers tangled in long dark hair as he kissed a woman’s neck.

Celeste.

My adopted sister.

The air left my lungs. My chest caved in, but I didn’t make a sound. I pressed myself against the side of the car, hand clamped over my mouth as silent tears ran down my face.

Adrian, the man I loved and had been married to for eight years

And my adopted sister, the same person that Adrian had claimed to despise because of how she had made my life a living abyss.

Just when I thought the worst had happened, Adrian's phone rang.

He muttered, voice hoarse. "Hold on."

He answered with irritation. "What is it, Doctor?"

A pause. Then he grinned.

Adrian ended the call and pulled Celeste close as a genuine smile spread across his face. It was something I hadn’t seen for years.

"You're pregnant," he said softly.

Celeste gasped, her hands flying to her stomach. "Are you serious?"

"Yes." He kissed her deeply. "And the doctor said your womb is responding perfectly to the treatment. One more test next week to confirm everything is healed, and then we can finally start our family properly."

Happy tears streamed down Celeste's face. "Oh my God. Adrian, we're going to have a baby."

"We are." He cradled her face in his hands. "You're going to be an amazing mother."

My heart bled as my hand moved instinctively to my own stomach, where my baby was growing.

Celeste’s smile faded slowly. “What about Elena?”

Adrian’s smile grew cold. “You don’t need to worry, baby. After next week’s test shows you’re healed, I won’t need her anymore.”

My blood ran cold.

What did that mean?

“I still can’t believe she never figured it out,” Celeste laughed. “You told her it was genetic incompatibility, and she believed you.”

“Elena’s an idiot,” Adrian said dismissively. “She signed every consent form I put in front of her without reading a single line. The experimental treatments, the tissue samples, the terminations—she authorized all of it, thinking they were insurance forms or whatever bullshit I told her.”

My legs threatened to give out, but I forced myself to stay still. I had to keep listening.

“Those four babies,” Celeste murmured. “You really used them to cure my womb?”

“Every single one,” Adrian replied without remorse. “Different stages of development, different protocols. And it worked. You’re cured, and you’re carrying my child.”

Celeste giggled softly. “Thanks to Elena’s babies.”

My knees went weak, and I almost dropped to the floor. It became hard to breathe, and my ears rang. My vision blurred, and for a moment I thought I would lose consciousness.

My four babies hadn’t died from miscarriage—they had been murdered by their father, for my sister.

Chapter 2

Elena's POV

"All I had to do was slip in some drugs to her meal to induce early labour," Adrian said, almost amused. "Then I would tell her that there were complications. She would cry, I would comfort her, and life would go on."

My mind flashed back to each miscarriage. The pain. The blood. The hospital rooms.

After each loss, Celeste would show up at the hospital with homemade chicken soup. “I made this especially for you,” she would say, her eyes full of fake tears. “I know how much you’re hurting. I’m here for you, sis.”

She would stay the night, sleeping in the chair beside my bed, holding my hand whenever I woke up crying.

Adrian would be there too, stroking my hair, whispering, “We’ll try again. We’ll have our baby. I promise.”

I had believed them both.

My hands shook violently. I bit down harder on my palm to keep from screaming.

They had poisoned me four times.

"Are you really going to divorce her when my womb is cured?" Celeste asked, her voice dripping with false concern.

"Of course," Adrian said casually. "Once the doctor confirms the treatments worked, I don't need to keep her around anymore."

He paused, and I heard the smirk in his tone. "Then you and I can finally be together publicly."

Celeste's voice was breathy. "What about my family? What will they say?"

Adrian laughed coldly. "The family that favours you over their own daughter? Please. They'll side with us. Her mother already told me she thinks Elena is an embarrassment."

The words cut through me like knives, because it was the truth.

"She already signed her five percent company shares over to me years ago without realizing it," Adrian continued. "She'll walk away with nothing. She has no friends, no support system. After the divorce, she'll have nothing and no one. She'll probably end up back in some countryside hovel where she belongs."

Celeste furrowed her eyebrows. “How do you plan on doing that?”

Adrian chuckled coldly. "Next week, we'll throw a huge party to announce your pregnancy to everyone important, my business partners, your family, and so much more.”

He continued. "Then I'll have something slipped into her champagne. Then halfway through the party, Marcus will find her in one of the upstairs rooms in a compromising position with some strange men."

Celeste gasped. "You're going to frame her?"

"She'll be too drugged to know what's happening. Marcus will make sure there are photos. By the end of the party, everyone will believe Elena Moretti cheated on her devoted husband at a party celebrating her sister's pregnancy."

"That's brilliant," Celeste breathed. "Everyone will think she's the villain."

"Exactly. The divorce will be clean, and she'll get nothing." Adrian's voice dripped with satisfaction.

My heart pounded so hard I thought it would burst through my chest.

He was going to drug me, frame me, and take everything.

Their groans filled the silence again. I backed away from the car slowly, careful not to make a sound. My hand was bleeding where I had bitten it, but I didn't feel it.

All I could feel was devastation, rage and heartbreak.

When I was far enough away, I ran.

I climbed into my car, and my body shook so violently I could barely hold the wheel. I sat there in the darkness, tears streaming down my face, my palm pressed protectively over my stomach.

Four babies murdered. Used as experiments to cure my sister's infertility so she could carry my husband's child.

And now he was going to destroy my reputation and take everything I had left.

I barely remembered driving home. My hands shook so violently on the steering wheel that I almost crashed twice.

I drove home in a daze, their conversation replaying endlessly in my head.

‘She’s an idiot. She has nothing and no one. She’ll end up back in some countryside hovel where she belongs.’

I walked inside the house absentmindedly, then I headed straight to Adrian’s home office.

I needed proof. Evidence. Something to make sense of what I had heard.

My hands shook as I searched through his files, his laptop, his locked drawers. I found the small brass key hidden beneath the drawer lining and opened the filing cabinet.

Medical records with my name. Dates that matched every pregnancy. Procedures I never consented to. Bank statements showing payments to a private research facility.

I kept searching, my hands moving faster.

Finally, I found the transfer record. The company shares Adrian had promised me as a wedding gift—I had signed them all back to him without realizing it.

I stared at the document until the words blurred.

"She'll walk away with nothing."

A bitter laugh escaped me. Adrian was so ignorant of the truth.

I couldn't be left with nothing, because what Adrian didn't know was that he hadn't built Moretti Enterprises from nothing.

I had.

Five years ago, when his company nearly went bankrupt, an anonymous investor saved it. The investor paid all the debts, funded the expansions, and covered the losses.

That investor was me.

I was the anonymous silent shareholder with fifty percent ownership of his company. I had created the account under my maiden name, Elena Rossi, using an offshore account that Adrian never knew existed.

His empire was built on my money.

And he called me an idiot.

Another laugh escaped me.

I gathered every document, every file, every piece of evidence, and made copies, hiding them where he would never think to look.

Then I sank to the cold floor of his office and cried until my body had nothing left to give.

When there were no tears left, I just sat there, feeling empty. I had no idea where to start.

Then I remembered something Adrian had said months ago.

"Stay away from Ivan Romano. He's my biggest competitor. He is ruthless and dangerous. He will do anything to destroy me."

Ivan Romano. Adrian's biggest rival and worst enemy.

He was the only one who could help me now.

I picked up my phone with trembling fingers and began searching. It took twenty minutes to find Ivan's private number buried deep in Adrian's files.

I stared at it for a long time.

Once I made this call, there would be no going back.

But when I thought of my four babies, of Celeste's mocking laughter, of Adrian's cruelty, I pressed Call.

The phone rang twice before a deep, smooth voice answered. "Who is this?"

My throat tightened, but I forced the words out. "My name is Elena Moretti. I'm Adrian Moretti's wife."

A pause. "Moretti's wife. What do you want?"

Tears blurred my vision. "I need your help."

"Why would Adrian Moretti's wife be calling me? I am your husband's rival." His tone sharpened.

"Because I want him destroyed," I whispered. "And I think you're the only man who hates him as much as I do."

Silence stretched.

Then Ivan laughed. It was a dark, low sound that sent a shiver through me.

"Mrs. Moretti," he said slowly, "you have my complete attention."

Chapter 3

Elena’s POV

"Tell me everything." Ivan's voice was sharp and cold. “Tell me why Adrian Moretti's devoted wife wants her loving husband destroyed."

I explained everything from the tracking app, to finding Adrian with Celeste, the conversation I had overheard concerning the experiments on my babies, and his plan to divorce me.

By the time I finished, tears were running down my cheeks again.

Ivan was silent for a long moment.

"Do you have proof?" he finally asked.

"Yes." My voice was stronger now. "Medical records, bank statements, transfer documents. Everything."

"And you have fifty percent shares in the company?" Ivan asked.

"He doesn't know about them. Nobody does." I replied. "I also have evidence of everything illegal he had done in his company. But I can't use it. He has connections, lawyers, and my family—"

"Your family supports him?"

The question was like a knife to my chest, because the answer was a bitter truth.

My mother had never wanted me back.

I was ten when the DNA test results came back. Celeste and I had been switched at birth because of a hospital error.

When they came for me, I had been living in a small countryside village with a seamstress who had raised me. We were poor, but I’d been happy.

They took me to their mansion in the city, but my mother couldn't let Celeste go. She had raised Celeste, and loved her.

So she kept both of us.

But there was never any question who she preferred.

“Elena, fix your posture. You look like a peasant.”

“Elena, speak properly. Your accent is embarrassing.”

“Elena, why can't you be more like Celeste?”

Nothing I did was ever good enough. I took etiquette classes but I was too clumsy. I studied languages but my pronunciation was wrong.

Celeste was perfect and graceful, and my mother made sure I knew I didn't measure up.

By eighteen, I had learned to stay quiet, to make myself small, and to not expect love.

That's when I met Adrian. He was charming, successful, and he looked at me like I mattered.

“You're different from other girls,” he had said.

I fell in love with him fast and hard.

When he proposed after six months, I said yes immediately.

My mother had pulled me aside the night before the wedding. “Adrian Moretti is using you. But you're too stupid to see it.”

I hadn't listened.

I had married him, spent eight years trying to be the perfect wife.

And the whole time, Celeste had been there, sleeping with my husband behind my back, and I had never suspected a thing.

My chest ached as I blinked hard, forcing myself back to the present.

"My family loves my sister. They'll most likely side with him when he divorces me. I can't trust on their support."

Ivan was silent for a moment. "So you want revenge."

"I want justice," I corrected, my voice breaking. "He murdered my babies. He used them to cure my adopted sister's womb so she could carry his child. He made me sign away everything I had, and now he's going to throw me away like garbage."

"And why did you come to me?" Ivan asked curiously.

"Because you hate him." I replied desperately. "Adrian told me to stay away from you. He said you would do anything to destroy him."

He chuckled coldly. "What do you want from me, Elena?"

I clenched my fists tightly. "I want to take everything from him, the way he took everything from me. His company, his reputation, his freedom. I want him to lose it all. I have fifty percent of his company. You're his biggest competitor. Together, we can ruin him."

Ivan was quiet, then finally he spoke. "If I help you, it won't be charity. I want something in return."

My stomach clenched at the tone of his voice. "What do you want in return?"

"Marry me."

"Marry you?" I repeated incredulously, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes," Ivan said simply. "If I'm going to help you destroy Adrian Moretti, I want something permanent in return. Not money. Not shares. You."

"But—"

He interrupted. "Think about my offer, Mrs. Moretti. You have my number."

The call was disconnected.

I stared at my phone, my mind spinning. Marry Ivan Romano? Adrian's biggest enemy?

I shook my head. No. I didn't need him. I had the evidence. I had the shares. I could handle this myself.

I would make sure Adrian lost everything, the same way he'd taken everything from me.

Chapter 4

Elena’s POV

I didn't waste any time. I went straight to the bedroom and began packing my things. I didn’t know what to do, but I was very certain that I couldn’t stay here anymore.

I moved mindlessly, pulling clothes from hangers, emptying drawers as I arranged them all in my bags.

"Elena?"

I froze.

Adrian's voice came from the doorway. "What's going on? What are you doing?"

I turned slowly to face him.

His expression changed instantly when he saw my face. My eyes were red and swollen from crying, and my cheeks stained with tears.

"What's wrong?" Panic flashed in his eyes as he stepped closer. "Are you okay? What happened?"

The concern in his voice made my stomach turn. He was so good at pretending. He sounded so convincing.

I shook my head. “Nothing.” I croaked.

He stepped closer even more, looking worried. “Come on, it can’t be nothing, you’ve been crying.”

I knew Adrian wouldn’t drop it anytime soon, so I lied,

"It's Clara," I whispered, my voice breaking.

He furrowed his brows. “Your foster mother? The one who’s been in a coma since the car accident?

I nodded. "The hospital called. She's getting worse. They said... they said she might not make it."

For a split second, I saw relief flash in his eyes.

Then it was gone, replaced by fake sympathy.

"Oh, Elena." He stepped forward, pulling me into his arms. "I'm sorry. I know she means a lot to you."

My skin crawled at his touch. The hands that had murdered my babies, were now holding me, and comforting me.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to claw his eyes out.

But I forced myself to stay still, to let him hold me.

"Adrian?" Celeste's voice called from the doorway.

Adrian's body tensed up. He pulled away immediately and rushed to Celeste's side.

"Are you okay?" he asked her with genuine concern, not the fake concern he had just given me.

Celeste nodded, smiling. "Yes, I just wanted to know if you've told Elena yet."

Adrian turned to me, and suddenly his entire demeanor changed. His voice was vibrating with excitement.

“Elena, Celeste has good news.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “Good news?”

He nodded. “Yes. And I would be throwing a party next week for a big celebration of the good news. I'm inviting all my friends, business partners, investors—everyone important."

I knew what the good news was. The pregnancy. My husband's baby growing inside my sister. And I knew the plans he had for me at that party.

I stared at him. "All these for the ‘good news’?"

"Yes." Celeste smiled sweetly. "Adrian wanted to do something special for me, as we’re all family."

He was throwing a party to celebrate the baby he had created using my murdered children.

"There will be a family dinner tonight first," Adrian continued. "Just us and your parents. But the big party is next week. I've already hired caterers, sent out invitations—”

"I'm not interested," I said flatly.

Celeste's smile faltered. "But Elena—"

"I said I'm not interested."

Celeste’s face dropped, and her eyes watered.

"Elena!" Adrian snapped, his expression darkening. "Your mother and father will be there. They're expecting you."

“I can’t bring myself to celebrate while Clara is dying," I said quietly, the lie rolling off my tongue easily.

"She's old," Adrian said dismissively. "She's lived her life. But this baby—" He placed his hand on Celeste's stomach. "This is new life. Something to be happy about."

My hands clenched into fists at his cruel words. Clara had always treated him like her son, even though I wasn’t her biological daughter. I couldn’t believe that he would be so flippant about her life.

"Don't be selfish," he continued. "Celeste is trying to include you in something important—"

"I said no."

Celeste's eyes filled with tears. "I just wanted us all to be together as a family. But if you don't want to be there..." Her voice broke. "If you hate me that much..."

"I'm just worried about Clara." I replied, turning away from her to continue packing the clothes.

"She wasn't your real mother," Celeste said softly. "She was just—"

"Don't." My voice was cold. "Don't you dare finish that sentence."

Celeste flinched, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. She turned to Adrian. "See? She hates me. I try so hard to be a good sister, but she—"

"Enough." Adrian's voice was sharp. He turned to me, his eyes hard. "You're coming to dinner tonight. And you're coming to the party next week. That's final."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are." He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous tone. "You're my wife. You'll attend both events, you'll smile, and you'll support your sister. Do you understand?"

I stared at him. The man that I had loved for eight years. The man who had murdered our children.

"Fine," I said quietly. "I'll come."

Satisfaction flashed across his face. "Good. Dinner starts at seven."

He turned and guided Celeste out of the room, whispering something in her ear that made her laugh.

The door closed behind them.

I stood there for a long moment, staring at the closed door with a glare on my face.

Adrian had no idea of the storm that was coming for him.

Chapter 5

Elena’s POV

At 7:00, I walked downstairs wearing a simple black dress.

Adrian was in the living room with Celeste. When he saw me, he frowned.

"You're wearing black?"

"I have no reason to celebrate," I said quietly.

His jaw tightened, but he didn't argue.

Celeste, meanwhile, was wearing a flowing pink dress that made her look radiant and glowing.

"You look beautiful," Adrian told her softly.

She beamed. "Thank you."

He didn't even glance at me.

The doorbell rang.

"That'll be your parents," Adrian said, heading to the door.

I watched him greet my mother and father with warm hugs and handshakes.

My mother spotted me and frowned. "Elena, why are you wearing black? This is a celebration."

"I cannot celebrate when Clara is still fighting for her life," I said simply.

"Oh." My mother's expression didn't change. "Well, that's unfortunate. But tonight is about Celeste and her good news."

Of course it was. They didn’t care about anything else.

We moved to the dining room.

I sat at the far end of the table. Adrian sat at the head, with Celeste on his right and my parents on his left.

They chatted and laughed amongst themselves, completely ignoring me, almost like I was invisible.

Halfway through the meal, Celeste stood up.

"I have an announcement," she said, her voice shaking with excitement.

Everyone turned to look at her. Adrian was beaming.

"I'm pregnant," Celeste said softly.

My mother gasped, jumping up to hug her. "Oh, sweetheart! That's wonderful!"

My father grinned. "Congratulations, Celeste."

"Who's the father?" I asked quietly.

The room went silent.

Celeste's eyes widened. "What?"

"I asked who the father is," I repeated. "You're not married. You don't have a boyfriend that I know of. So who got you pregnant?"

"Elena!" my mother snapped. "How dare you—"

"It's a reasonable question," I said calmly.

Celeste's eyes filled with tears. "I... I was seeing someone. He died a few months ago. This baby is all I have left of him."

The lie rolled off her tongue so easily.

I glanced between my father and my mother. They looked very uncomfortable, avoiding my eyes.

And that's when it clicked.

They knew.

They all knew whose baby it was.

My own parents knew my husband was having an affair with my sister, and they were celebrating it.

"I'm sorry for your loss," I said flatly. "Congratulations on the baby."

Adrian cleared his throat. "As I mentioned earlier, I'm throwing a celebration party this Saturday. A big one. All my business partners, investors, and friends will be there to celebrate this wonderful news."

My mother clapped her hands together. "How exciting! Celeste, you'll need a new dress—"

"Already ordered," Adrian said with a smile. "Only the best for my... for Celeste."

He had almost said something else. I saw him catch himself.

"Elena, you'll need something appropriate too," my mother said, eyeing my black dress with distaste.

"I have plenty of dresses," I said quietly.

"Nothing suitable for a celebration," she countered. "Tomorrow, you and I will go shopping."

"I would rather spend tomorrow at the hospital with Clara."

My mother's expression hardened. "Elena, that woman is dying. There's nothing you can do for her. But you can support your sister during this happy time."

That woman. Not even your foster mother. Just that woman.

"If you'll excuse me," I said, standing to my feet. "I'm not feeling well. I'm going to bed."

"Elena, sit down," Adrian said sharply.

"No."

"I said sit down!"

"And I said no." I looked at him coldly. "I came to dinner like you asked. I heard the announcement. Now I'm leaving."

I turned and walked out of the dining room.

Behind me, Celeste’s voice wobbled with fake tears. “She hates me, Mom.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” my mother soothed. “At least, thanks to her, you’re now…” Her voice dropped, too low for me to hear.

My breath caught.

They knew. My parents knew what Adrian had done—and they supported it.

I went upstairs and shut the bedroom door. I lay there, staring at the ceiling while laughter, clinking glasses, and music drifted up the stairs. They were celebrating my pain.

Soon, they would have nothing left to celebrate.

Chapter 6

Elena’s POV

Hours passed and the noise faded and the house went quiet. My parents took one guestroom. Celeste took the other. And Adrian… I knew exactly where he’d be.

My throat was dry. I needed water, but I waited another half hour, just to be sure.

I slipped out of bed, crept down the stairs, and entered the kitchen, and filled a glass from the tap.

I heard Adrian’s low voice coming from his office. “I don’t care what it takes. Keep her sedated.”

I froze, the glass halfway to my mouth.

“No, I’m not interested in her waking up,” he said. “I’m paying you enough to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

My heart slammed against my ribs.

“The monitoring showed brain activity? So what? Increase the dosage. I don’t want her to be conscious. Ever.”

I set the glass down and crept closer. The office door was slightly ajar.

“You don’t understand,” Adrian hissed. “Clara is dangerous. If she wakes up, everything falls apart.”

A pause. Then: “Yes, I know it’s illegal. That’s why I’m tripling your fee.”

Another pause.

“Because she saw me,” he snapped. “She saw me with Celeste months ago. She threatened to tell Elena. So I handled it.”

My hand flew to my mouth.

“The car accident wasn’t an accident,” Adrian said coldly. “I ran her off the road myself. She should’ve died, but the old woman was tougher than I thought. Now she’s in a coma, and I need her to stay that way.”

No. No, no, no.

“If she wakes up and tells Elena what she saw, my entire plan falls apart. Keep her sedated until after the party. After that... I don’t care what happens. Let her die naturally, just make sure it can’t be traced back to me.”

The call ended. His chair scraped back.

I ran.

I flew up the stairs, heart pounding, and shut the bedroom door just as his footsteps echoed down the hall. I pressed my back against it, trembling.

Adrian had tried to kill Clara.

He was keeping her sedated.

He was going to let her die.

I grabbed my phone with shaking hands and dialed Ivan.

He answered on the second ring. “Mrs. Moretti. It’s late.”

“I need your help.” My voice cracked. “Please. It’s Clara—my foster mother. Adrian ran her off the road months ago because she caught him with Celeste. Now he’s paying her doctor to keep her in a coma. She’s showing signs of waking up, and he’s—he’s going to let her die.”

Silence.

“Please,” I whispered. “I need to move her somewhere safe. But I can’t do it alone. He has people everywhere.”

“Where is she?”

“Mercy General Hospital. Room 304.”

“I’ll have her moved by morning,” Ivan said. “She’ll be safe.”

Relief flooded through me. “Thank you. Thank you so much—”

“But you know what this means, Elena.”

I closed my eyes. “Yes.”

“Say it.”

“I accept your offer,” I whispered. “I’ll marry you.”

“Good. You have four days.”

The call ended.

I sat there in the dark, phone clutched in my hand.

I had just agreed to marry a man I’d never met. My husband’s worst enemy.

Adrian didn’t know it yet, but I just became his reckoning.

***

I couldn't sleep. My mind kept replaying everything I had just heard in Adrian’s office.

Then I heard footsteps approaching, and a knock on the door.

"Elena?" Celeste's voice was sweet, concerned. "Can I come in?"

I didn't answer.

"Elena, please. I just want to talk."

I stayed silent.

"Elena, open the door."

She turned the doorknob and opened the door, stepping inside.

There was a pause. Then her voice changed, she dropped the sweet voice.

"Oh, you look so pathetic right now, sis.” She drawled.

I didn’t move.

She continued. “But I want you to know something. That child in my womb is Adrian’s. He chose me.”

I sat up slowly, turning to face her.

She had a cruel grin on her face. "He told me how boring you were in bed. How you could never satisfy him. How he had to close his eyes and pretend you were someone else."

My hands clenched into fists.

"And those babies?" She laughed. "Four chances, Elena. And you couldn't even manage to keep one alive. What kind of woman can't even do the one thing her body was made for?"

My vision turned red.

"Your body must be defective," she continued, her voice dripping with venom. "Maybe it's nature’s way of telling you that you would be a terrible mother.”

Anger burned through me at her words, and I stood up, walking towards her with clenched fists.

"Adrian loves me," Celeste said, with a nasty grin on her face. "He's having a baby with me. A real baby. One that will actually live, because I can give him what you never could—a family."

I shoved her hard.

She stumbled backward, her eyes widening in shock.

"Get out," I gritted coldly.

"You Cheap Woman!" she hissed. "How dare you—"

"I said get out!"

I slammed the door in her face and locked it this time.

There was silence for a moment, then the sound of footsteps walking down the hallway.

I walked back to the bed and sat down.

Then I heard a loud thud, and a scream.

"Adrian! Help! Adrian!"

My blood ran cold.

What did she—

The bedroom door flew open with such force it slammed against the wall. The lock of the door had been broken.

Adrian stood in the doorway, breathing heavily. His face was twisted with rage.

Behind him, my mother and father appeared, holding a sobbing Celeste.

"You pushed her down the stairs?" Adrian's voice was deadly quiet.

"What? No, I didn't—"

"She came up here to comfort you," my mother said, her voice shaking. "To try and make peace. And you attacked her!"

"That's not what happened!" I stood up. "She was inside my room, insulting me—"

"That’s not true!" Celeste sobbed. "I just wanted to talk to my sister. To make sure she was okay. And she... she pushed me!"

"I shoved her away from my door! I didn't push her down the stairs—"

Before I could say anything more, Adrian’s fist slammed into my face.

The impact sent me flying backward. My head cracked against the wall, and pain exploded through my skull.

Then everything went black.

Chapter 7

Elena’s POV

When I woke up in the hospital, my head was pounding. My face throbbed, and I could taste blood in my mouth.

I tried to sit up, but my body wouldn't cooperate. Everything hurt.

"You're finally awake." Adrian's voice was cold, and emotionless.

I forced my eyes open. He was sitting in a chair by the window, watching me.

The memories flooded through my mind, and tears welled up in my eyes. In our eight years of marriage, Adrian had never hit me before, until now.

"Adrian," I whispered. "How could—"

"Apologize to Celeste."

"What?"

"You heard me." His eyes were hard. "Apologize to your sister for attacking her."

"I didn't attack her!" I tried to sit up again, ignoring the pain. "She was taunting me, saying horrible things—"

"I don't care what she said." He stood up. "You put your hands on a pregnant woman. You could have killed her baby."

"She threw herself down the stairs!" Tears streamed down my face. "She's lying, Adrian. She's always lying—"

"Apologize."

"No." I said firmly.

His expression darkened. "No?"

"I won't apologize for something I didn't do."

He stared at me for a long moment. Then he smiled. It was a cold, cruel smile that made my blood freeze.

"Fine."

He grabbed my arm and dragged me to my feet. I stumbled, my legs were too weak to hold me up.

"What are you doing?" I gasped.

He didn't answer, he just dragged me out of the room, and down the hospital hallway.

"Adrian, stop! Where are we going?"

He kept dragging me, till we approached the ICU.

My stomach dropped.

"No," I whispered. "No, Adrian, please—"

He ignored me as he dragged me to Room 304. Clara’s room.

"Adrian, what are you doing?" I was sobbing now. "Please, don't—"

He kicked open the door to Clara's room.

To my dismay, she was still lying there, pale and unmoving, surrounded by machines. Her heart monitor beeped steadily. Ivan’s people hadn't arrived yet.

A nurse looked up, startled. "Sir, you can't—"

"Turn off the life support," Adrian said coldly.

The nurse's eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

"I said turn it off."

"Sir, I can't do that—"

"Do it."

"Sir, the patient will die within minutes if we—"

"I don't care." Adrian's voice was ice. "Turn it off. Now."

The nurse looked at me, then back at Adrian. "Sir, I need authorization from—"

"I'm Adrian Moretti." His voice was quiet but deadly. "I'm on the hospital board. I donate millions to this place every year. If you don't do what I say right now, I will have you fired. I will have your nursing license revoked. I will destroy your career and this entire hospital. Do you understand?"

The nurse's face went pale as she quickly did as he said with tears in her eyes.

"No!" I lunged forward, but Adrian caught me, holding me back.

"Please," I sobbed. "Please, she's all I have. She's my mother. Please—"

The ventilator went silent.

The heart monitor's beeping slowed.

"Adrian, please!" I dropped to my knees, sobbing. "Please don't do this! I'm begging you!"

He looked down at me. "Apologize to Celeste."

"I'll apologize!" I screamed. "I'll apologize for anything! Just please, don't hurt her!"

"Say it, then."

"I'm sorry!" I was hysterical now. "I'm sorry for pushing Celeste! I'm sorry for everything! Just please, Adrian, please don't do this!"

He stared at me for a long moment.

"Turn it back on!" I screamed. "Please, turn it back on!"

But then a voice called from the hallway. "Mr. Moretti! Sir!"

Another nurse appeared in the doorway, breathless. "It's Miss Celeste! She's having a panic attack! She can't breathe—"

Adrian released me immediately. “Gather every nurse and doctor in this hospital. Now. No harm must come to Celeste.”

Then he ran out of the room. To my horror, he dragged the nurse from Clara's room with him.

I rushed outside frantically.

"Help!" I screamed into the hallway. "Somebody help me! Please!"

But everyone was gone, running to help Celeste.

I looked at the machines, at the buttons and switches.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to Clara. "I'm so sorry. I don't know how to—"

I tried pressing buttons, and flipping switches, but nothing worked.

Clara's heart monitor slowed further, and the beeping got fainter.

"No, no, no," I sobbed. "Please, Mama. Please don't leave me. Please—"

The monitor flatlined.

"No!" I threw myself across her body. "Mama! Mama, please!"

But she was gone.

I don't know how long I stayed there, sobbing over her body.

Eventually, the nurses came back. They tried to pull me away, but I wouldn't let go.

Security had to be called.

They dragged me out of the room while I screamed and fought.

Adrian was in the waiting room with Celeste. She was crying dramatically, my mother stroking her hair.

When Adrian saw me being dragged past, he didn't even look concerned.

He just turned back to Celeste and continued coddling her.

Clara was dead. Adrian had murdered her.

Just like he had murdered my babies.

I pulled out my phone with shaking hands and texted Ivan.

— He killed my mother. It’s too late.

His response came immediately.

— What happened?

I told him everything.

There was a long pause before his next message.

— I’ll make him pay, Elena. I swear on my life.

If Adrian thought he had broken me, he was about to learn how wrong he was.

Chapter 8

Elena's POV

The next few days passed quickly. I arranged a quiet funeral for Clara, inviting the close friends and family she had.

Adrian barely spoke to me. He was too busy fussing over Celeste, making sure she had everything she needed for the party.

The day before the party, I found Adrian in his office, going through party preparations with the event planner on the phone.

When he saw me, he held up one finger, gesturing to me to wait.

I stood there silently while he finished his call, discussing menu options and flower arrangements like he hadn't killed Clara.

Finally, he hung up and looked at me with irritation. "What is it?"

"I need you to sign these." I placed a folder on his desk. "For Clara's death certificate and burial arrangements."

He glanced at the papers without really looking at them. "Right."

He picked up his pen.

"I'm sorry about your foster mother," he said absently, signing the first page. "But it was her time, wasn't it? You said it yourself, the hospital called to tell you she wasn't getting better."

My jaw clenched.

He kept signing and talking, not even reading what was in front of him. "These things happen. She was old. She lived a full life."

He murdered her. And now he was acting like it was just natural causes.

"Here." He pushed the folder back to me. "All signed. Is that all?"

"Yes."

"Good. Round up everything quickly. We have the party on Saturday, and I don't want any negative energy affecting the celebration."

Negative energy. That's what my grief was to him.

"Of course," I said quietly, taking the folder.

As I turned to leave, I heard Celeste's voice from the hallway.

"Adrian? Are you almost done? I need your opinion on my dress—oh." She stopped when she saw me. "Elena. I didn't see you there."

"I was just leaving," I said.

"Wait." Celeste stepped into the office, her hand resting on her stomach. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

I said nothing.

"I know you're upset about Clara," she said softly. "And I understand, because losing a parent is hard."

My hands clenched around the folder.

"But you have to remember," Celeste continued, "Clara was my biological mother too. We shared the same blood. If anything, I'm in more pain than you are."

I stared at her incredulously. Celeste had wanted nothing to do with Clara after the DNA test.

"You only knew her for ten years," Celeste said. "But she carried me for nine months. We had a biological connection that you could never understand. So really, I'm the one who lost a mother. So you’re just being dramatic for no reason."

Something inside me snapped.

My hand moved before I could stop it.

The slap echoed through the office.

Celeste stumbled back, her hand flying to her cheek. For a moment, she just stood there, shocked. Then she burst into tears.

"Adrian!" she sobbed. "She hit me! She hit me again!"

Adrian was on his feet instantly.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he roared.

"She was taunting me," I said, my voice shaking. "She said—"

"I don't care what she said!" He barked, and his hand flew through the air as he slapped me hard.

The force of the slap sent me stumbling. I gripped the wall as I struggled to keep standing.

"I was just trying to console her!" Celeste wailed. "I told her I understood her pain, that Clara was my biological mother too, and she attacked me!"

"You're lying—"

Adrian grabbed my arm roughly. "Enough! I don't want to hear another word from you."

He shoved me toward the door.

"Get out of my sight," he said coldly. "And if you even look at Celeste wrong again, I'll make sure you regret it."

I stumbled out of the office, clutching the folder to my chest.

Behind me, I could hear Adrian's voice, it was soft and gentle now.

"Are you okay, sweetheart? Did she hurt you? Come here, let me see..."

I walked up the stairs slowly, my cheek throbbing where he had hit me.

In our eight years of marriage, Adrian had never laid a hand on me.

Now he had hit me twice in four days, because of Celeste.

I went to the bedroom and locked the door.

Then I opened the folder and looked at the documents Adrian had just signed.

He hadn't read a single one.

He had signed the divorce papers. He had signed acknowledgment of my fifty percent ownership of Moretti Fragrances.

He had signed his own destruction, and he didn't even know it.

I pulled out my phone and took photos of every signed page.

Then I sent them to Ivan.

— He signed everything. The party is tomorrow night. Are you ready?

His response came immediately.

—- Everything is in place. Tomorrow, you leave that house and you never look back.

****

The day of the party arrived. Adrian and Celeste had left the house several hours ago, leaving just my parents.

At 6 PM, my mother knocked on the door.

"Elena, you need to start getting ready. We’re already going to the venue for the party."

"Okay"

"Wear something nice. Don’t wear black."

I didn't respond.

She sighed. "Adrian is trying very hard to make this a perfect evening. The least you could do is not ruin it with your mourning."

Then she left.

When everyone was out of the house, I moved quickly.

I pulled out the suitcases I had hidden in the back of the closet and loaded them into the hallway.

I arranged a large envelope, inside were the divorce papers signed by Adrian himself, with implicating photos and videos of Adrian and Celeste.

The medical records showing what he had done to our babies.

Then the divestment agreement, showing that I had fifty percent ownership of Moretti Fragrance, and I had pulled out my investments from his company.

Then other necessary documents.

I stepped back and looked at the envelope sitting there like a bomb waiting to explode.

By the time he opened these, I would be gone.

His company would be destroyed, and his reputation would be in ruins.

I pulled out my phone and called the delivery service, then I grabbed my bags and walked out the front door.

A black car was waiting in the alley behind the house. Ivan stepped out, opening the door for me.

"Are you ready?" he asked quietly.

I looked back at the house one last time. At the life I was leaving behind.

"Yes," I said. "I'm ready."

I got into the car. Ivan closed the door and got in beside me.

As we drove away, I pulled out my phone and sent one final text to the delivery service I had hired.

— Deliver the envelope now.

Then I blocked Adrian's number, Celeste's number, and my parents' numbers.

I was done.

"Where are we going?" I asked Ivan quietly.

"Somewhere safe," he said.

I placed my hand on my stomach, on the baby growing inside me.

"Good," I whispered.

As the car pulled away, I watched the house disappear in the mirror.

Adrian thought I was stupid, so easy to manipulate and discard.

He had no idea what he had created.

The woman who loved him died the day I found him with Celeste.

The woman sitting in this car was someone else.

Someone who would make him pay for every lie, every betrayal, every murdered child.

Adrian Moretti's perfect night was about to become his worst nightmare, and I couldn't wait to watch it all burn.