My Husband Murdered Our Unborn Baby

Alexandra Marsh's POV:

I was eight months pregnant, and there were only ten dollars left in my bank account. I owed it all to my husband, Easton Gardner. He had set up automatic transfers, sending his entire paycheck and every penny of our joint savings straight to Colette Russo.

She was his high school sweetheart. He claimed she needed financial support because she suffered from "severe depression," and that she was "helping him manage his cryptocurrency and real estate investments."

I clutched my swollen belly as a sharp pain ripped through me, and my vision blurred.

I was at the farmers' market, and the vivid colors of the fruits and vegetables made my head spin. My legs gave out, and I crashed hard to the ground. Darkness swallowed my consciousness in an instant.

When I woke up, the air smelled of disinfectant. A doctor stood by my bed, explaining that I had severe anemia and preeclampsia, and that my baby was in danger. I needed an immediate blood transfusion and off-site surgical treatment.

Easton had secretly changed my health insurance, making it impossible for me to afford the expensive treatment. He'd done it to save more money for Colette.

The hospital demanded a large out-of-pocket deposit, and my heart pounded. I tried calling Easton, but no one answered. I called again and again, but it was like shouting into a void — while my baby hung by a thread. I had to do something.

Against the doctor's strong objections, I signed myself out of the hospital. Because I had to save my child.

Easton had bought a luxury Rolex watch two days ago. It was sitting in his drawer. I took it, went to a pawn shop, and exchanged it for enough cash to get by.

I rushed back to the emergency room, but the moment I stepped through the doors, I was surrounded by uniformed police officers. My heart plummeted. Easton had called the police. He'd reported me for theft.

A female officer named Kim Smith stood at the reception desk, her expression grave. Easton and Colette arrived too, walking in arm in arm. Easton wore a cold smirk, while Colette's perpetually melancholic eyes now gleamed with malice.

"Alexandra, you're a criminal now," Easton said coldly, his voice devoid of any warmth. "Stealing from your own husband. Can you sink any lower?"

Kim Smith stepped forward. "Mr. Gardner, your wife is in critical condition. The doctors need to perform an emergency C-section immediately."

Easton waved a hand dismissively. "She's always putting on a show, craving attention. She'll be fine." He looked at me with the eyes of a predator. "Unless she signs this." He held up a document — a postnuptial agreement. "Sign it, and I'll approve the surgery. Otherwise, no surgery, and not a single cent. And you'll take on all of Colette's debts too."

I stared at him, blood still flowing from between my legs, my vision blurring. Colette stood beside him, wearing a triumphant smile, whispering something into his ear. He nodded, his gaze turning even colder. "Take your time," he said. "It's not like the baby's going anywhere."

"Easton," I said weakly, my voice barely a whisper. "The baby is dying." Another wave of excruciating pain hit, and my body let out a sharp protest.

"Don't try to manipulate me." He sneered. "You always do this — playing the fragile victim, faking illness, just to get sympathy and my money."

"This isn't about money!" Desperation crept into my voice. "This is our child! Our child is dying!"

Easton laughed — a harsh, contemptuous sound. "Our child? You mean your personal ATM. Do you think I can't see through your little game? You just want to trap me with this baby. You're always calculating."

"Calculating?" My voice was bitter. "I pawned your watch to save my own life and our child's life, and you called the police on me."

"That 'Rolex' was a gift to me," Colette interjected, her tone dripping with false concern. "Easton bought it for me. You stole my property."

She raised her wrist, and a diamond-encrusted watch glittered under the hospital lights. "See? This is the real one. What you took was just a cheap knockoff Easton bought as a joke."

Easton nodded. "She's right, Alexandra. That watch was worthless — a cheap counterfeit. You couldn't even tell the difference." He pulled out his phone. "This real one cost me twenty thousand dollars. The one you stole? A fifty-dollar souvenir. You committed grand theft over fifty dollars."

My head spun, the pain intensifying. "Easton, please. I'm losing too much blood."

"Drama queen," Colette muttered with an eye roll. Easton ignored me entirely and turned to Kim Smith. "Officer, she's already confessed to the theft. This is an open-and-shut case. Take her away."

Kim Smith looked at him, then at me, her expression unreadable. "Mr. Gardner, this is a medical emergency. If you refuse to sign the surgical consent form, you could face serious legal consequences."

"Legal consequences?" Easton scoffed. "She stole from me. You think I care about a few lawyer threats? She's been trying to ruin my life." He gestured at Colette. "Colette has been through so much — her depression, her investments. She needs stability, not Alexandra's endless theatrics."

Colette nestled into Easton's arms, her hand resting lightly on his chest. "Easton, darling, I know how much you care about me, but we have to think about your reputation too." She pointed at me with a look of disgust. "This woman — she just wants to destroy everything you've built."

Easton nodded. "Exactly. She's always been jealous of your success, Colette. All these years, pretending to be the dutiful wife, secretly resenting everything." He turned back to me. "I deserve better. And Colette deserves everything."

My world started spinning again, and the monitor beside me let out a rapid alarm. A nurse rushed over, shouting, "Doctor, her vitals are dropping fast!"

Easton just stood there staring at me, the postnuptial agreement still in his hand. "Sign it, Alexandra. It's your only chance."

My vision faded. The words on the paper blurred into indistinct lines, and darkness swallowed me once more.