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Fiancé's Betrayal: The Kidney Heist Novel Cover

Fiancé's Betrayal: The Kidney Heist

The cold bit through me first—not into skin, because I had none anymore, but into something deeper. Into whatever remained of Gracie Hart after the world had finished with her. I opened eyes that shouldn't open. Found myself standing in a morgue, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead like angry wasps. The air reeked of formaldehyde and something else. Something metallic and wrong. Then I saw the table. My body lay there. Pale. Still.
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Chapter 2

I followed Sean through the sterile hospital corridors, my spirit drifting behind him like a shadow he couldn't feel. He moved with purpose, his surgical scrubs replaced by casual clothes—jeans and the navy sweater I'd bought him last Christmas. The one he'd worn exactly twice before shoving it to the back of his closet.

The ICU doors swished open, and there she was.

Liliana Andrews lay propped against pristine white pillows, her auburn hair fanned across the fabric like spilled wine. Even post-surgery, even with the pallor of recovery, she was beautiful in that effortless way that had always made me feel like a pale imitation. Her eyes—those green eyes Sean used to describe in his sleep during the early days of his memory loss—fluttered open as he approached.

"Sean," she whispered, her voice barely audible but somehow carrying more weight than all my years of declarations.

He was beside her bed in three strides, his hand finding hers with the kind of desperate tenderness I'd spent three years begging for. "How are you feeling? Any pain? The surgeon said the transplant went perfectly, but I need to know—"

"Shh." Her finger pressed against his lips, and I watched his entire body relax at her touch. "I'm fine. Thanks to you. Thanks to..." She paused, her brow furrowing slightly. "Where did you find a compatible kidney so quickly? I thought the waiting list—"

"Don't worry about that." Sean's voice carried a protective edge. "What matters is that you're going to be okay. That we have time now. All the time we lost."

Time we lost. The words hit me like physical blows. What about our time? What about the three years I'd spent rebuilding him, piece by piece, from the wreckage of his accident?

A memory surfaced, unbidden and sharp:

*Three weeks ago. The bathroom of our apartment. Two pink lines staring back at me from the pregnancy test.*

*My hands had shaken as I set the test on the counter, joy and terror warring in my chest. A baby. Our baby. The thing that might finally, finally make Sean see me as more than his captor.*

*I'd practiced the words in the mirror for hours. "Sean, I have something wonderful to tell you." "Sean, we're going to have a baby." "Sean, I know things have been difficult, but maybe this is our chance to start over."*

*I'd imagined his face softening. His hands on my still-flat stomach. His voice, warm for once, saying my name like it meant something.*

*Instead, I'd found him in his study, staring at his laptop screen with that familiar expression of cold concentration. When I'd approached, he'd closed the browser window quickly—too quickly.*

*"Sean? I wanted to talk to you about—"*

*"Not now, Gracie. I'm researching treatment options. For memory recovery." His tone had been dismissive, final. "Some new techniques that might help me remember what you took from me."*

*The pregnancy test had stayed hidden in my purse. The words had stayed locked in my throat.*

Now, watching Sean stroke Liliana's hair with infinite gentleness, I understood why I'd never found the courage to tell him. Deep down, I'd known it wouldn't matter. A baby wouldn't have made him love me. Nothing would have.

The ICU door opened again, and Dr. Marcus Chen entered, his expression troubled. "Sean, I need to speak with you."

Sean didn't look away from Liliana. "Whatever it is can wait. Unless it's about Liliana's recovery—"

"It's about Gracie."

The name hung in the air like a curse. Sean's jaw tightened, but he still didn't turn around.

"What about her?" His voice was flat, disinterested.

"She's missing, Sean. Her colleagues at the psychology clinic filed a report. She hasn't been seen for three days. Didn't show up for her appointments, didn't answer her phone. Her neighbor said her car's been gone since Tuesday."

Tuesday. The day I'd driven to Seattle. The day I'd died on a rain-slicked highway, my phone in my hand with Sean's number half-dialed, the pregnancy test in my purse and hope still flickering in my chest.

"She probably finally realized I was getting my memory back," Sean said, his thumb tracing circles on Liliana's knuckles. "Probably ran before I could confront her about what she did to me."

Dr. Chen's expression darkened. "Sean, that's—she's been nothing but devoted to you. Even if you believe this hypnosis theory, she deserves better than—"

"She deserves exactly what she gave me." Sean's voice turned sharp, cutting. "Three years of lies. Three years of stolen memories. If she's gone, good. Maybe now I can finally heal."

Liliana's eyes fluttered open again, and she squeezed Sean's hand weakly. "Don't be angry, darling. I'm here now. That's all that matters."

Sean's face transformed, hardness melting into adoration. "You're right. You're here. You're safe. That's everything."

I stared at my kidney, working perfectly inside Liliana's body. At my fiancé, holding another woman's hand. At the love I'd died believing in, now lavished on someone else.

Three days missing, and he'd never even noticed.

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