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Leave No Trace of Me Novel Cover

Leave No Trace of Me

A near-fatal car accident forces Harper into early labor but miraculously restores her hearing. While recovering, she overhears her billionaire husband, Maxwell Reed, whispering a horrifying plot to their doctor. To legitimize another woman's child, Maxwell demands an unnecessary C-section to swap the infants, uncaring if Harper's own baby survives. Hiding her sudden recovery, Harper vows to play the submissive spouse until she can dismantle his lies and secure her vengeance.
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Chapter 3

The next morning when I woke up, Maxwell was already dressed. He brushed a fingertip against my nose, signing for me to sleep in.

As soon as the bedroom door clicked shut, I heard his exaggerated voice from downstairs.

"Honey, even a three-star Michelin chef couldn't make Eggs Benedict this good!"

Through the window, I saw the sleek black Maybach parked outside, his driver, Carter, waiting by the villa's entrance.

Vivian's voice was a cocktail of delight and complaint. "Darling, wait! What about my good morning kiss?"

The two flirted like a honeymooning couple.

"I'm heading to the office. Board meeting tonight. You take care of the baby, and don't blow our cover."

As the car disappeared down the drive, I took a deep breath. Just then, my phone buzzed with a text.

[Darling, save room for dessert tonight. I'm bringing you your favorite strawberry cake.]

[Okay.]

I replied curtly and went to the bathroom. Staring at my pale face in the mirror, my gaze slowly hardened into steel.

When I opened my bedroom door, I heard Vivian cursing in the kitchen. "That damned deaf bitch, why didn't she just die in the crash?"

"So what if you knew Maxwell a few years before me? You're just riding your family's coattails. Why do you get to be Mrs. Reed, while I have to play nanny in this stupid uniform?"

With a thud, she slammed a cutting board onto the counter and began chopping furiously, as if venting all her rage on a carrot.

"Harper, just hurry up and die!"

I averted my eyes and quietly pushed open the guest room door.

Swallowing the nausea, I saw it: a discarded condom wrapper and one of Vivian's earrings on the nightstand. Beside them, a few strands of her fallen chestnut hair.

I pulled on a pair of gloves and moved with precision, taking Maxwell's toothbrush from his bathroom and carefully swabbing a saliva sample from the baby's bottle. I placed everything into pre-labeled sealed bags.

The baby lay in her cradle, her breathing soft and even. Looking at her innocent face, my heart clenched. But I had to be ruthless.

I had just plucked a few strands of the baby's fine hair when a sharp cry pierced the air. I jumped, quickly scooping the child into my arms and rocking her gently, trying to soothe her.

Then, a cold voice came from behind me. "Mrs. Reed, what are you doing in here?"

My body tensed, ready to turn.

But reason took over. I forced myself to keep my back to her, feigning ignorance as I continued to pat the baby's back.

It wasn't until Vivian circled around to face me that she tapped my shoulder insistently.

I feigned a startled gasp, then, seeing it was her, offered an apologetic smile and carefully placed the baby in her arms.

Back in my room, I changed into an inconspicuous outfit and slipped out of the house, ignoring Vivian's suspicious stare.

I took the samples from Maxwell, Vivian, Lily, and myself to a private lab downtown. I requested a rush order on three separate paternity tests. The results would be ready in a week.

I nodded. Standing before the elevator, I hesitated for a long moment before finally pressing the button for the obstetrics and gynecology department.

I had to know what really happened in that operating room.

As the elevator ascended, the feeling of weightlessness made me close my eyes. The thought of what I might learn made my chest constrict, my heart seizing so tight I could barely breathe.

"Dr. Harrison, tell me. What happened to my baby?"

Dr. Harrison was both shocked and terrified to see me. The moment I spoke, all the color drained from his face.

I locked his office door and placed a recording pen on the table. "Don't tell anyone I was here, especially Maxwell. If you do, or if you lie to me, the contents of this pen, along with all the other evidence I have of your little arrangement, will be sent to the police. Dr. Harrison, you'd be an accessory to murder."

He collapsed into his chair.

"I... I disposed of the body that day. Mr. Reed told me to do it quickly, to leave no trace." He hung his head, unable to meet my eyes. "Harper, I'm so sorry. I had no choice. Mr. Reed threatened to cut off all of the hospital's funding..."

On the drive home, Dr. Harrison's confession echoed in my head, each word another turn of the screw in my heart. The rage inside me smoldered, ready to ignite.

That evening, Maxwell walked in with a smile, carrying that damned strawberry cake, and announced his grand plan.

[I'm throwing a huge christening for Lily. I want the whole world to see how happy our family is!]

His eyes sparkled, his mood buoyant. Even his signing seemed lighter, more fluid than usual.

And my child... my child didn't even get a funeral.

I blinked hard, forcing back the tears, and gave him a calm, emotionless nod.

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