He Chose Her Over Our Dead Child

Deidre's hand shot out, grabbing Daria's ankle. Her grip was weak, but the desperation in it was terrifying. "What did you say?" she rasped, her voice shaking so badly it was almost unrecognizable. "What do you mean, healthy?"

Daria looked down at Deidre's hand on her ankle with utter disgust. She kicked out, her sharp heel scraping against Deidre's wrist, forcing her to let go. She stepped back, her eyes shining with sadistic glee.

"Two years ago," Daria said slowly, enunciating every syllable, "you were pregnant. And it was a perfectly normal, healthy, viable pregnancy. There was absolutely nothing wrong with that baby."

Deidre's brain felt like it was exploding. The ringing was deafening. She shook her head violently, refusing to accept the words. "No. No, the doctor said it was ectopic. The fallopian tube ruptured. I was bleeding out-"

"The doctor lied," Daria interrupted, her voice cold and hard. "Dr. Eduardo Lamb. I paid him two million dollars to alter your ultrasound images and forge your blood work. He made it look like an ectopic pregnancy."

The room tilted. Deidre's stomach heaved, but there was nothing in it to throw up. She remembered that night. The sudden, agonizing pain. The blood soaking the sheets. The rush to the hospital. The frantic doctors.

"Danial was in Europe," Daria continued, pacing slowly in front of the sofa. "It was so easy. I just had to wait for the 'emergency' to happen, and then Dr. Lamb did the rest. He made it look like your tube had ruptured. He convinced the surgical team that it was a life-or-death situation."

Deidre clutched her stomach, the phantom pain of that night ripping through her. "You killed her. You killed Lily."

"Oh, it gets better," Daria sneered. "Dr. Lamb couldn't just operate without consent. And since Danial was your next of kin, they had to call him. He was on his private jet, flying over the Atlantic."

Daria paused, letting the suspense build. She looked directly into Deidre's eyes. "Danial authorized the surgery. He gave the verbal consent over the satellite phone. With a single word, he signed your daughter's death warrant."

The words hit Deidre like a physical blow to the chest. The air rushed out of her lungs. Danial. It was Danial's voice that had ended Lily's life. He had killed their daughter, not knowing she was perfectly healthy, because Daria had set the trap.

"And just to add a little insurance," Daria added with a shrug, "Dr. Lamb removed your healthy fallopian tube while he was at it. Just to make sure you wouldn't be popping out any more little Ortegas."

A scream ripped from Deidre's throat. It wasn't a human sound. It was the raw, primal howl of a mother who had just learned that her child had been murdered by the people she trusted most. The sound bounced off the walls, piercing through the apartment.

Deidre didn't feel her heart condition. She didn't feel the gash on her arm. She only felt a blinding, all-consuming rage. She exploded off the floor, her body moving before her mind could catch up.

Daria's eyes widened in shock. She hadn't expected Deidre to have any strength left. She stumbled backward, her hands raised.

Deidre grabbed a fistful of Daria's perfect blonde hair. She yanked it hard, dragging Daria's head down. With her other hand, she swung.

Smack.

The sound was deafening. Deidre's palm connected with Daria's cheek with every ounce of strength she possessed. The force of the slap whipped Daria's head to the side.

Daria cried out, her hand flying to her face. Blood immediately started to seep from her lip where her teeth had cut the inside of her cheek.

Deidre didn't stop. She raised her hand again, the rage taking over. Smack. The second slap was harder than the first. She poured all her grief, all her betrayal, all her hatred into that blow.

Daria's eyes rolled back. Her knees buckled. She stumbled backward, her high heel catching on the edge of the rug. She fell sideways, crashing into the sharp corner of the glass coffee table.

Crack.

Daria's forehead hit the heavy glass. She collapsed onto the floor, clutching her head. Blood began to pour from a gash on her temple. She curled into a ball, her hands moving down to her stomach.

"My baby!" Daria shrieked, her voice filled with genuine terror. "The baby! It hurts!"

The bedroom door flew open.

Danial stood in the doorway, his hair disheveled, a silk robe tied loosely around his waist. His eyes were wild, still foggy with sleep, but they quickly focused on the scene in front of him.

He saw Daria, crumpled on the floor, bleeding from the head, crying and holding her pregnant belly. He saw Deidre standing over her, her hand raised, her face contorted with fury.

His face drained of color. Then, it twisted into a mask of pure, unadulterated rage.

"She's crazy!" Daria screamed, pointing a bloody finger at Deidre. "She attacked me! She's trying to kill my baby!"

Danial moved like a predator. He crossed the room in three long strides, shoving Deidre out of the way. He fell to his knees beside Daria, gathering her into his arms. "Daria! Daria, look at me. Are you okay? Is the baby okay?"

Deidre watched him cradle the woman who had murdered his daughter. A hysterical, broken laugh bubbled up from her chest. It was a sound of absolute madness, echoing in the quiet room.

Danial looked up at her, his eyes blazing with hatred. "What the hell is wrong with you? Have you completely lost your mind?"

Deidre stopped laughing. She pointed a trembling finger at Daria. "She's a liar! She lied about the yacht! She killed Lily! She paid the doctor to kill our daughter!"

"I said, shut up!" Danial bellowed. He reached out, his large hands shoving her shoulders with brutal force. She stumbled backward, her feet tangling in the thick rug.