The nurse’s eyes shone with pity as she hugged her clipboard to her chest. Her mouth quivered before she finally spoke, her voice quiet—yet it landed like a death knell.
“I’m sorry, ma’am… the baby is gone.”
The sentence sliced straight through me.
My lungs locked. My chest tightened until it felt like I couldn’t breathe. My throat burned, but no scream came out. I only stared, frozen, as if my body refused to accept what my mind had just heard.
Then my hands moved on their own.
They flew to my stomach, clutching desperately, as though I could still find the warmth of the life that had been there only hours ago.
But there was nothing.
Empty.
My baby—my last fragile thread of hope—was gone.
Not because of an accident.
Not because of fate.
Because of them.
Because of Darian.
Because of the cruelty of the man I had once called my husband.
I never asked for this.
I never wanted to lose my child. I had swallowed humiliation after humiliation, endured the insults, the manipulation, the endless gaslighting, because I thought I could at least keep my baby safe.
I thought that if I held on long enough, if I stayed quiet long enough, if I suffered enough… then at least my child would survive.
But now?
Everything was gone.
And the worst part was, even if I hated Darian with every piece of my soul, the baby was not him.
The baby was mine.
A part of me.
A heartbeat.
A life.
And no matter how broken I was, I never wanted that life to be taken from me.
My hands trembled against my stomach as if my palms could somehow undo what had happened. My lips shook, and the words that fell out were so small they barely sounded like speech.
“I’m sorry…” I whispered. “I’m so sorry, baby. I should’ve protected you. I should’ve fought harder. Please… forgive me.”
Hot tears slid down my face as guilt swallowed me whole.
It wasn’t fair.
My baby had done nothing wrong—yet paid the price for the monsters surrounding me.
The door creaked open.
I looked up.
Darian walked in.
His face was blank, unreadable, like he’d stepped into the room to discuss paperwork instead of the fact that I had just lost my child. His gaze flicked to the nurse for a second, then settled on me with cold indifference.
“You need to get yourself together,” he said flatly. “There’s going to be a press conference. You’ll apologize publicly.”
I stared at him as if I hadn’t heard correctly. My lips parted, trembling. “Apologize…?” My voice came out broken. “Why would I apologize when I didn’t do anything?”
“You did,” he snapped. “You were responsible for the food.”
“No!” I choked out. “It wasn’t me! The maid cooked it. I only served the plates. I would never poison anyone—never!”
Darian’s jaw tightened. His eyes darkened, sharp with rage. “I don’t care,” he said. “The guests are already preparing to sue. If you don’t clean up this mess, they’ll send you to prison.”
My whole body shook. My voice dropped into a cracked whisper. “I lost my baby because of you.” Tears spilled again. “I was pregnant, Darian. Pregnant. And now I—”
He cut me off with a scoff.
“So what?” he said, like my grief was an inconvenience. “It was just a baby. Don’t use that to manipulate me.”
His words were poison, each one stripping away whatever was left inside my chest.
He leaned closer, lowering his voice until it was only for me.
“If you refuse again,” he murmured, breath cold against my ear, “then I’ll have to kill your mother. Or your brother. Do you want that?”
My body went numb.
He always knew where to strike.
My mother.
Inigo.
The only people I was still trying to protect.
A long, defeated breath slipped out of me. My eyes closed for a second, and when I opened them again, there was nothing left to fight with.
“Fine,” I whispered.
Not long after, a maid entered carrying a plain dress and a compact of powder. She didn’t look at me with sympathy. Only obedience. Only duty.
They pulled me to my feet and forced me in front of a mirror.
A comb dragged through my hair too roughly.
Powder was dabbed over my bruises, over the swelling, over the marks on my face as if makeup could erase what Darian had done.
But no matter how much they tried to fix me, the woman staring back didn’t look like a wife.
She looked like a ghost.
My dress was lifeless. My eyes were swollen. My body looked fragile, hollow, ruined.
I didn’t look human anymore.
I looked like someone who had already died and simply hadn’t stopped walking yet.
When I was pushed onto the stage at the press conference, dozens of cameras flashed in my face like knives. Reporters whispered to each other, hungry and eager, waiting for me to break.
A paper sat in my shaking hands.
Darian’s script.
My throat felt scraped raw, but I forced the words out anyway, reading aloud like a puppet.
“I… I want to apologize for what happened at the dinner party. It was my fault. I should have been more careful. I never intended to hurt anyone. I take full responsibility.” My voice cracked. “Please… please don’t send me to jail. I’m begging you.”
The room erupted.
Questions flew at me.
Laughter.
Judgment.
Disgust.
I lowered my head, biting my lip until I tasted blood. Tears blurred the letters, but I forced myself to finish.
Because if I didn’t…
My mother would die.
My brother would die.
When I finally stepped away from the podium, it was already done.
The damage was permanent.
The whispers followed me like blades scraping against my skin.
She’s the culprit.
She tried to poison them.
She should be grateful Valeria forgave her.
By the time I returned to the mansion that evening, I felt like I was walking through a nightmare that wouldn’t end.
I stepped into the living room—
And froze.
Valeria was sitting comfortably on the sofa, sipping tea like she belonged there. Like the house was hers. Like I was the intruder.
She looked up and smiled warmly, her eyes dripping with fake kindness.
“Vivienne,” she said, standing as if she was welcoming me home. “Thank you for what you did today. I know it must have been difficult, but it was for the best.”
Her voice turned even softer, sweet as honey.
“Don’t worry. I’ll do everything I can to make sure your mother is well taken care of.”
Her words stabbed deeper than anything else.
I should have screamed.
I should have lunged at her.
I should have ripped that smile off her face.
But I had no strength left.
All the rage, all the grief, all the pain—everything inside me had been drained until there was only emptiness.
Instead, I lifted my hand slowly to my finger.
The wedding band.
Darian’s ring.
The ring I’d once worn like it meant something, like it proved I mattered.
Like it made me his.
With steady hands, I slid it off.
Then I stepped forward and placed it into Valeria’s palm.
Her eyes widened, shocked.
I looked her straight in the face, even as tears threatened to spill again.
“Don’t worry,” I said quietly. “You won’t have to think about me anymore.”
Valeria blinked. “Vivienne…”
My lips curved into a bitter smile.
“Because you’re never going to see me again.”
She stared at me, stunned.
I held her gaze for one last heartbeat.
“Enjoy being the wife,” I said.
Then I turned around and walked away—
Leaving behind the final piece of myself I had ever handed to Darian Smith.
