Married to the Wrong Sister

I was forced to follow Bosco, watching him broadcast the news from beginning to end.

Everything I had suffered before my death was now laid bare before the public.

But no one knew the truth. And even if they did, no one would believe it.

The victim was none other than the woman who had dominated the headlines five years ago—the international anesthesiologist who abandoned her career, had an affair, and eloped.

Once the broadcast ended, Bosco hurried to a high-rise revolving restaurant in the heart of the city.

In the exclusive VIP section, a woman sat with her back to him, dressed with effortless elegance.

I recognized her instantly—Martha.

Bosco approached, greeting her with an affectionate kiss on the cheek before handing her a gift bag.

"It's for the baby. Our little one will look adorable in this."

Martha's eyes lit up with delight, though she playfully pouted. "You're in such a rush. I'm only two months along. We don't even know if the baby will make it yet."

He placed her hand against his chest, gazing at her with unwavering tenderness.

"No matter what it takes, I will ensure this child is born safely."

I never expected Bosco to cherish his child with Martha so much.

When I unexpectedly became pregnant, I had gone to him, heart brimming with joy. But he had met me with nothing but indifference, citing his career was unstable and that he couldn't afford to raise a child. He told me to get rid of it.

He hadn't even bothered to look at the ultrasound report in my hands.

I had once believed he simply didn't like children. But now, I understood—he just didn't want mine.

Martha tightened her grip around her glass, a faint crease forming between her brows.

"It's my fault for being so useless. Five years, and I still couldn't make you a father."

Bosco gently took the glass from her hands, letting her squeeze his hand instead.

"Don't say that. It was your sister who ruined you. She's the reason you've suffered so many miscarriages, endured so much pain."

"I only went to speak to her out of goodwill…" Her expression suddenly shifted, her shoulders trembling as she clutched her head in distress. "She's not my sister! She doesn't deserve to be!"

Bosco's heart ached at the sight, he pulled her into his arms.

"If I ever see that wretched woman again, I'll make her pay. I'll make her apologize to you! Alright, alright. Don't cry. You can't let this affect the baby."

I remembered that Martha had an incomplete uterine septum, a congenital defect that made pregnancy difficult and miscarriage likely.

She had once been deeply ashamed of it, even hiding it from her own family.

But to cover up her crimes, she had told everyone that I was the one who had injured her.

Now, I finally understood.

Out of sheer jealousy, she had stolen my healthy uterus.

I shook my head furiously, screaming the truth over and over again.

But no one heard me. No one responded.

At that moment, Bosco pulled out his phone and made a brief call.

"I told Phoebe you weren't feeling well, so you won't be attending her 60th birthday tomorrow. You know how much she dotes on you—when has she ever refused you?"

I had always been expected to attend Mom's birthday banquets back then because I had been the daughter she loved most, the one she was proudest of. Martha, on the other hand, could do as she pleased.

But now, things had changed.

For the sake of Martha's pregnancy, Mom had agreed without hesitation to let her miss her 60th birthday.

Martha sighed. "Mom loves me the most. Even if she says it's fine, she'll still be disappointed. She's already been disappointed enough by Abigail. That's why I'll go tomorrow."

A sharp, searing pain spread through my chest.

She had stolen my marriage and taken my life—now, she had even stolen Mom.

But no one knew.

As I watched in despair, Bosco tenderly wiped the tears from her face. "Martha, you're just too kind."