The Heir He Burned Twice

Lorenzo had clearly never expected me to be the one to demand an annulment.

He froze for a second before his fury erupted over the phone. I ended the call before he could get another word out.

Instantly, my phone was bombarded with texts, each one burning with his rage.

"Where are you? Aurelia, are you out of your mind? I tolerate you because you're carrying my heir. Don't push your luck."

"You think being pregnant gives you a free pass? I'll dissolve this marriage, and when that child is born, you'll be on your knees begging me to sign the birth certificate!"

"And that story on the public forums—retract it. Now. Don't make me show this city who you really are."

I didn't read any further. I deleted the messages and blocked his number. Even though he had murdered me in my previous life, the betrayal still felt like a knife twisting in my gut.

The medical staff came in to change my dressings, gossiping freely, oblivious to the dead look in my eyes.

"The Don downstairs is so handsome," one sighed. "I've never seen such a perfect couple! Childhood sweethearts, destined for each other—so romantic!"

"You're behind," another laughed. "The latest is that he's paid a fortune to book the hospital's entire kitchen just to make her soup himself every day!"

"I tried to change her ointment earlier, and he wouldn't let me near her. Insisted on doing it himself. True soulmates."

...

I stared numbly at the diamond watch on my wrist. The peeling skin on my arm itched and ached beneath the bandages.

After they left, I gasped, my mouth open, fighting for air that wouldn't come.

That evening, the head physician came to examine me. He said the heavy blow to my abdomen had caused permanent damage. I would likely never conceive again.

My first reaction, strangely, was relief. Thank God. No child would ever have to suffer with me. An innocent life deserved a better fate.

After everyone had left, I checked the public forums. The storm of public opinion had forced the family to issue a statement. Their explanation was that the explosion was a meticulous plot I had orchestrated myself. That I had acted out of jealousy, deliberately harming Isabella, wasting rescue resources, and dragging my husband's name through the mud.

In the report, a family spokesman spoke of peace, but every word placed the blame on me. To add credibility, Lorenzo created an official account and broadcast a confirmation of our impending annulment to the entire city. His move nailed me to a pillar of shame. The curses once aimed at his men now turned on me like a tidal wave. My social media was flooded, and my access was revoked. My attempts to explain were drowned in the howls of the mob.

Over the next few days, I felt the hostility from every nurse and doctor who entered my room. If not for their professional oath, they would have thrown me onto the street. Every morning brought packages from across the city, each one containing a threat.

I never once defended myself.

It wasn't until the day the doctor approved my discharge that I sent a single message to Lorenzo.

"Tomorrow. Palazzo Restaurant. To finalize the annulment."

He seized the opportunity, calling back immediately. "Finally showing your face? I warned you. I gave you a chance. You refused to retract the news, so don't blame me for what happens next. If Isabella hadn't begged me to spare you, I would have had you disappeared by now. An annulment? Fine! But don't come crawling back when you pop out a bastard with no father to claim him!"

He cut the call. I opened my apartment's security system and copied the footage of Isabella pouring the gasoline.

The next morning, after my discharge, I went straight to the restaurant, documents in hand. But waiting for me on the marble steps was Isabella.

"I told you," she smiled, her eyes glinting with malice. "You can never win. Your husband is just my faithful little dog."

Her gaze dropped to my abdomen. She feigned shock. "Oh, the bastard's gone? What a pity. Last time, his own father drowned him with his bare hands. This time, he killed the poor thing with indifference. With a mother like you, he was never meant to live long anyway…"

She was reborn too.

Before I could think, my hand flew out. I slapped her across the face. Weak from blood loss, I had no strength, but she collapsed with theatrical grace.

"Isabella!"

Lorenzo charged past me. His shoulder slammed into my back, knocking me aside. I tumbled down the stone steps, my head connecting hard with the unforgiving stone. Blood streamed down my face.

Lorenzo gathered her into his arms, murmuring apologies. Then, as if remembering something, he whipped his head toward me.

His gaze locked onto my stomach. Flat. Empty.

The color drained from his face.

He rushed over, trying to pull me into his arms. "The baby—" his voice was a raw, terrified rasp. "Where is our child?"