The day before my wedding, my twin sister and I were kidnapped. My fiancé and parents racked their brains, doing everything they could to come up with the ransom. But in the end, they could only afford to pay enough to save my twin.
Once she was rescued, she took my place and married my fiancé—acting as if the kidnapping had never happened.
As for me—left behind with no one willing to pay for my freedom—I was butchered. The kidnappers cut my uterus out while I was still alive and dumped me, blood-soaked and barely breathing, on the street.
Word of my fate spread quickly and soon, everyone in the city mocked me as a worthless, barren woman.
Just when I had been abandoned by the world, my childhood sweetheart, Hubert Noteboom, rebelled against his family’s wishes and married me. He treated me with love, cherished me and made me believe I was his treasure.
Three years into our marriage, however, I accidentally found a video at home. It was a footage of him performing a uterus transplant surgery.
In the video, Hubert held my sister’s hand tenderly, his eyes full of affection as he reassured her:
“Neel, don’t be scared. Sofie is your twin—her uterus is a perfect match for you. With me doing the surgery, once it’s done, you’ll finally be able to have your own child.”
Then the screen shifted. I saw Hubert standing over me, a scalpel in his hand. My eyes were blindfolded. There was no anesthesia. As I screamed and sobbed in terror, he made the cut.
——
Watching the video triggered a sharp, gut-wrenching pain, tearing through me from the inside out. It felt like I was reliving the nightmare all over again. My body trembled as I clamped a hand over my mouth, tears streaming down my face. The truth hit me so hard I nearly blacked out.
So the kidnapping… had been Hubert’s plan all along—for Neel.
But if he had already taken what he wanted from me, then why? Why did he pretend to love me? Why did he marry me, making me believe he was my salvation—when all along, he was the one who destroyed me?
A crushing pain spread through my chest.
Just then, a ChatUs notification popped up on Hubert’s still-open computer screen. It was a voice message from one of his colleagues.
[Hubert, the amount of blood you’ve taken from Sofie this month is already way over the safe limit! You took her uterus and now you’re draining her blood month after month? She’s only getting weaker!"
"I don’t get it. Didn’t you marry her to atone for what you did? Why are you still hurting her?]
A reply appeared on the screen—Hubert’s words were cold and detached.
[I only married Sofie to keep her close. She’s nothing more than a convenient blood source to help Neel’s body accept the uterus transplant."
"I couldn’t marry the woman I truly loved, but at least Sofie looks exactly like Neel. In a way, I guess I still got to marry her after all.]
A bitter chuckle escaped him, as if he were mocking himself.
[Anyway, enough of this. Neel is due in a few days—she needs more blood. I’ll send over a few more bags of Sofie’s tomorrow.]
More desperate messages flooded in. The sender sounded frantic.
[Hubert, have you lost your mind?! You just took her blood two days ago and now you’re doing it again? Do you even care that your actual wife is suffering?!]
But Hubert didn’t bother responding.
***
I cried so much that my tears had run dry.
So this was the real reason he married me?
He had stolen my chance to have children. And now, he was slowly draining me of everything—just to keep Neel alive.
Hubert… he really would do anything for my dear sister, wouldn’t he?
The sound of the front door opening jolted me back to reality.
Heart pounding, I hurried to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face, trying to wash away my tears, trying to erase the pain.
The moment I stepped out, I forced myself to act as if I had seen nothing. As if I hadn’t just uncovered the truth.
Alas, Hubert’s gaze lingered on me, his eyes narrowing. He had noticed the redness in mine.
He crossed the room in a few quick strides, pulling me into his arms. His hand instinctively rested on my stomach, massaging it with practiced ease.
"Baby, have you been crying? Is your scar hurting again? If it hurts, tell me, okay? Don’t keep it to yourself… it kills me to see you in pain."
‘Kills’ him? How ironic. Wasn’t he the one who caused all of this?
I could barely stomach the sight of his fake concern. Just then, Hubert gave a small wave and a team of chefs entered the room, carrying baskets full of blood-nourishing ingredients.
