Eleven Miscarriages, One Final Cut
After her eleventh miscarriage, Clara Fulton became pregnant again. To protect the pregnancy, she lay in a hospital bed day after day, enduring injection after injection, waiting for the special drug meant to save her child.
Then she discovered the truth. Her husband of eight years, Ethan Grayson, had already given that one dose of the special drug to his newly pregnant mistress.
Clara wiped the tears from her face and made a ruthless decision, ending the pregnancy she had fought so desperately to keep.
She no longer wanted a man who wavered between women. But anyone who betrayed sincerity would have to pay a price.
She took out a phone she had never once used and dialed the only number saved on it.
"You wanted me to acknowledge you as my father, didn't you? Come pick me up in a week. I'll take your seat."
She had no idea that after she left, Ethan would kneel before every god he could think of, praying for nothing but her return.
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Chapter 5
Ivy had said one thing right. Clara should never have tried to cling to something that was never hers.
This child should have been gone long ago.
The doctors looked stunned. They all knew how much Clara had suffered to keep this child alive.
Even if it had cost her life, she would never have harmed this child.
So how had she ended up deciding to terminate the pregnancy?
Clara tugged at the corner of her lips, her voice cold. "You're all his people, aren't you? Keep this quiet for now. Don't tell Ethan."
"Yes." The doctor answered respectfully, his movements growing even gentler.
It was not until the next morning that Clara was sent back to her hospital room after the surgery.
Ethan only stopped by for a brief look before saying something urgent had come up at the company and leaving in haste.
He did not notice her now-flat belly, nor the complete lack of color in her face.
With a blank expression, Clara handled the discharge procedures herself and returned to the slum apartment.
After more than ten years away, everything felt both unfamiliar and achingly familiar.
She could almost hear her mother calling to her from the kitchen, telling her dinner was ready.
But in the blink of an eye, her mother's face vanished.
She knelt before her mother's memorial photo, tears streaming down her face in no time.
"Mom, Ethan failed your trust. He betrayed me. I'm going to find that man now. I hope you won't blame me."
She took her mother's memorial photo and ashes with her, then went to an agent and sold the apartment.
This place had already been tainted. There was no reason to stay.
She had not expected to run into Ethan shortly after leaving the agency.
Ethan looked anxious as he grabbed her arm without hesitation.
"Honey, your health isn't good right now. Why are you running around like this? What if something happened? You scared me half to death. Your phone was turned off. I had to use everyone I had just to find you."
His whole body trembled as he pulled Clara into his arms, finally relaxing only after holding her.
But Clara's mind was filled with images of him entangled with Ivy, leaving her overwhelmed with nausea.
She used all her strength to shove Ethan away, unable to suppress the disgust in her eyes.
"I just wanted to go home and see my mom. I didn't want to bother you. Haven't you been busy lately?"
The distance and sharpness in her eyes were unmistakable, leaving Ethan momentarily stunned.
Clara was known to be cold and ruthless to the world, but with him, she had always been tender and affectionate.
She had never been like this before. What was wrong with her?
Ethan took a deep breath and asked patiently, "Are you upset because you're missing your mom again? She'd be heartbroken to see you this sad from up there. You're already well into your pregnancy. You'll need the stronger medication for it to improve. Let's get back to the hospital."
Clara's clothes were loose that day, and he failed to notice the child was already gone.
Or perhaps he simply did not care.
"Our wedding anniversary is coming up in a few days. Honey, how should we celebrate this time? How about I give you that ring you've always wanted? You're my one and only true love."
The moment she heard that, the wave of nausea surged through Clara's entire body.
Hadn't that so-called ring of true love already been given to Ivy as a pledge of devotion?
Unable to endure it any longer, Clara flung his hand away, stopped, and looked up at Ethan as he tried to placate her with barely restrained anger.
"Ethan, if our child couldn't be saved, if the special medicine didn't work, and I died trying to protect the baby, what would you do?"
Ethan froze. Panic flashed through his eyes before he quickly suppressed it.
Startled, he rushed forward to hold her, but Clara dodged him, leaving him gripping only her wrist.
He promised, "The medicine has already been tested. It will work. You'll be fine. The child will be fine too. To me, you're more important than anything. If I had to choose, I'd give up the child."
What touching words.
So many men would choose the child without hesitation in such a choice.
But Clara knew better. From beginning to end, this man had despised both her child and her.
He called her dirty, even though he was the one who was rotten to the core.
Not wanting to stir up more trouble, Clara found an excuse and returned to the Grayson family mansion with Ethan.
Ethan had been worried about the child, but when Clara said everything was fine, he finally relaxed.
He was likely thinking that this meant Clara no longer needed the special medicine, giving him a perfectly valid reason to give it to Ivy instead.
Seeing the easy smile at the corner of Ethan's mouth, Clara let out a mocking laugh.
Sometimes, knowing a man too well was not a good thing.
Clara turned her phone back on. Ivy had added her as a contact, and once the request was approved, photos immediately came through.
There were photos of her and Ethan traveling abroad, embracing sweetly.
There were also photos of the two of them tangled together in bed.
"Clara, you can tell these photos were taken while you were lying in bed trying to protect your pregnancy."
"Ethan and I have been together for five months now. He relentlessly pursued me, leaving me no choice but to be with him. In the end, it's your fault for not being able to keep your own man."
"He loves me, and he loves the child I'm carrying. In a relationship, the one who isn't loved is the real intruder. I've never seen myself as the other woman who destroyed a relationship."
"Ethan got tired of you a long time ago. You're older than him, and you're already dirty. He said every time he slept with you, he had to rely on medication just to get through it."
"But the moment he sees me, his eyes are full of desire. I'm the only one he loves. For me, he was willing to break his principles, the first woman he ever truly wanted."
"Whatever I want, he gives me, including your mother's old house. You must've known about us for a long time, didn't you? I never thought you'd be this shameless, still clinging to him after all this."
Message after message of provocation filled the screen, Clara's body trembling with rage.
How could someone be so utterly shameless?
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8.0
Elena never planned on marrying a stranger, especially not someone engaged to her sister. But when her sister disappears days before the wedding, Elena is forced into an arrangement she never agreed to, with a man she knew nothing about.
Nathaniel Sinclair, billionaire heir with his dreamy looks and charming attitude is just as unenthusiastic about the situation as she is. Their marriage begins with distance, awkward silences and the quiet understanding that neither of them asked for this.
But as days turn into weeks and forced proximity becomes a regular thing, Elena starts to wonder: what happens when two people trapped in an arrangement begin to fall for each other?
It was never meant to be love. But love has a way of rewriting the rules.
7.1
I woke up gasping for air, expecting the cold concrete of a prison cell, but my fingers sank into the plush leather of a luxury Lincoln. I was twenty-four again, wearing the silver silk dress from the night my life was systematically destroyed.
Beside me sat my cousin Catrina, the woman whose carefully crafted lies had orchestrated my ruin and sent me to a penitentiary for five years.
In my first life, this was the night the dominoes fell. Catrina stole my jewelry to paint me as mentally unstable, and by morning, I was stripped of my medical license and labeled a criminal. My mother’s family, the Montgomerys, stood by and watched as my father’s company was devoured by wolves, treating my existence like a "liability" that needed to be managed. I still felt the phantom tremors in my hands from prison fights and the stinging betrayal of being discarded by the people I called family.
I had lived through five years of absolute hell, a former surgeon rotting in a cell while the people who framed me toasted to their success at galas I was no longer invited to.
"Don't be selfish, Dawn," Catrina whispered, reaching for the necklace that would later be used as evidence against me. "Let the jewelry shine on someone who actually matters."
She thought I was still the fragile victim she could manipulate, but she didn't realize I had returned from the grave with the cold, clinical calculation of a fixer.
Instead of walking into her trap at the gala, I forced the car onto a dark service road and dragged a dying billionaire, Jennings Stafford, from the wreckage of a burning SUV.
He was the only man powerful enough to destroy my enemies, and as I stitched his wounds with stolen supplies, I didn't ask for a thank you.
I looked him dead in the eye and proposed a contract that would set the world on fire.
"I want a strategic marriage. You get a harmless wife with a legacy name to calm your board, and I get immunity from everyone who ever touched me."
The bill for my five years in prison had finally come due, and I was here to collect.
7.8
Helen was finally brought back to the luxurious Gallagher estate as their long-lost blood relative.
But her new family didn't welcome her; they looked at her with undisguised disgust.
The matriarch mocked her stench of poverty, while her step-sister Candice treated her like a feral animal. The patriarch, Fredy—who had built his empire by betraying Helen's mother—tried to break her spirit. He blackmailed Helen into attending a high-society gala by threatening to cut off her grandmother's medical funds.
At the gala, Candice squeezed into a diamond-encrusted gown, desperate to seduce the guest of honor, Damian Montgomery. Damian was the most powerful man in New York, and he was currently tearing the city apart looking for a mysterious woman named Jane.
Overhearing this, a sick, greedy smile spread across Candice's face. She planned to impersonate Jane to claim Damian's wealth and completely crush Helen under her heel.
"Hide in the corner tonight. Don't you dare try to speak to anyone important!"
They all thought Helen was just a helpless, uncultured country girl they could easily manipulate and step on to secure their stolen legacy.
What they didn't know was that Helen was the real Jane. She was the lethal shadow who had saved Damian in the woods, shattered his grip, and robbed his highly guarded vault just the night before.
Helen calmly adjusted her simple black dress and stepped into the ballroom, ready to tear their stolen world apart.
7.2
Nina had been by Julian's side for ten years, ostensibly as his personal doctor, but in reality, she was his lover.
Whenever he was injured in conflicts, she treated him; during his moments of loneliness, she was there to comfort him.
Nina believed that if she devoted enough, she would eventually win his heart.
That was until his idealized love returned to the country, rendering Nina worthless in his eyes, and he discarded her like yesterday's news.
Even his assistant couldn't bear to see it and advised Julian to appreciate her, but he scoffed at the suggestion. "Nina was never part of my life plan. I kept her around because she bore a slight resemblance to Aria."
In that instant, Nina's infatuation seemed like a joke.
When he wrapped his arm around his idealized love's waist, smiling as he asked her to help plan their wedding, Nina didn't cry or cause a scene; she just smiled through her tears and obediently agreed.
Then she turned around and dialed a number. "There are seven days left in the ten-year commitment. I am applying for termination, and from now on, I will have nothing to do with Julian."
9.8
Adeline's stepmother had secretly drugged her for years, turning a child genius into a drooling, mentally disabled laughingstock just so her stepsister could steal her life.
But when her greedy father sold her off to Griffin Herring—a violent, untouchable billionaire psychopath—to save his company, things took a deadly turn.
Before the wedding, Griffin attacked her in a dark alley, nearly snapping her neck before stealing her grandfather's silver necklace.
That necklace held a micro-drive with her family's deepest secrets, and without it, she had nothing.
Back at the estate, her situation only worsened. Her stepsister Damaris paraded around in the Herring family's diamond engagement gifts, trying to force-feed Adeline wet dog food on an Instagram live stream.
When Adeline's calculated "clumsiness" ruined the video, her furious father locked her in a damp, rusted basement.
"Give her to the psycho," her stepmother hissed through the door. "Let him lock her away forever."
Listening from the shadows, Adeline's fists clenched until her palms bled.
Her supposed mental fog wasn't a tragedy—it was a calculated assassination of her mind. They had destroyed her childhood and were now throwing her to a monster just to keep the billions.
The dull, empty look in Adeline's eyes vanished instantly, replaced by a razor-sharp, chilling clarity.
She pulled a thin surgical needle from her messy bun and picked the heavy iron padlock in ten seconds. It was time to break into the billionaire's penthouse, take back her necklace, and tear them all apart.
8.1
Allison was hiding in a dusty small-town garage, working as a mechanic to suppress the lethal, experimental serum freezing her veins.
But a call from her estranged, wealthy father shattered her peace.
He threatened to permanently freeze her dead mother's trust fund if she didn't return to the family estate immediately.
That trust fund held the only key to the truth behind her past and her survival.
When she stepped into the sprawling mansion in her faded hoodie, her family treated her like a stray dog.
Her stepmother mocked her cheap clothes, and her half-brother called her a piece of trash.
Her father tossed a vocational school enrollment form at her, telling her to learn to sew so they could marry her off to anyone desperate enough.
Her perfect, porcelain-doll stepsister Gwyneth even deliberately smashed a glass of boiling milk against her own leg.
"Why did you push me?!" Gwyneth screamed, crying tears of fake terror to frame Allison.
"You vicious bitch! You're just as sick as your mother!" her father roared, raising his hand to strike her.
They looked at her with absolute disgust, thinking she was just a stupid, uncultured hick they could easily manipulate and destroy.
They had no idea that the girl standing before them was a lethal operative who already possessed all their offshore tax ledgers and darkest secrets.
Allison easily caught her father's wrist mid-air, her grip like a steel vice.
"I'm not going to a trade school," she whispered coldly, ripping the form into pieces. "I am going to Crestwood Academy."
It was time to take back everything that belonged to her, with interest.