Elena’s POV
"All I had to do was slip in some drugs to her meal to induce early labour," Adrian said, almost amused. "Then I would tell her that there were complications. She would cry, I would comfort her, and life would go on."
My mind flashed back to each miscarriage. The pain. The blood. The hospital rooms.
After each loss, Celeste would show up at the hospital with homemade chicken soup. “I made this especially for you,” she would say, her eyes full of fake tears. “I know how much you’re hurting. I’m here for you, sis.”
She would stay the night, sleeping in the chair beside my bed, holding my hand whenever I woke up crying.
Adrian would be there too, stroking my hair, whispering, “We’ll try again. We’ll have our baby. I promise.”
I had believed them both.
My hands shook violently. I bit down harder on my palm to keep from screaming.
They had poisoned me four times.
"Are you really going to divorce her when my womb is cured?" Celeste asked, her voice dripping with false concern.
"Of course," Adrian said casually. "Once the doctor confirms the treatments worked, I don't need to keep her around anymore."
He paused, and I heard the smirk in his tone. "Then you and I can finally be together publicly."
Celeste's voice was breathy. "What about my family? What will they say?"
Adrian laughed coldly. "The family that favours you over their own daughter? Please. They'll side with us. Her mother already told me she thinks Elena is an embarrassment."
The words cut through me like knives, because it was the truth.
"She already signed her five percent company shares over to me years ago without realizing it," Adrian continued. "She'll walk away with nothing. She has no friends, no support system. After the divorce, she'll have nothing and no one. She'll probably end up back in some countryside hovel where she belongs."
Celeste furrowed her eyebrows. “How do you plan on doing that?”
Adrian chuckled coldly. "Next week, we'll throw a huge party to announce your pregnancy to everyone important, my business partners, your family, and so much more.”
He continued. "Then I'll have something slipped into her champagne. Then halfway through the party, Marcus will find her in one of the upstairs rooms in a compromising position with some strange men."
Celeste gasped. "You're going to frame her?"
"She'll be too drugged to know what's happening. Marcus will make sure there are photos. By the end of the party, everyone will believe Elena Moretti cheated on her devoted husband at a party celebrating her sister's pregnancy."
"That's brilliant," Celeste breathed. "Everyone will think she's the villain."
"Exactly. The divorce will be clean, and she'll get nothing." Adrian's voice dripped with satisfaction.
My heart pounded so hard I thought it would burst through my chest.
He was going to drug me, frame me, and take everything.
Their moans filled the silence again. I backed away from the car slowly, careful not to make a sound. My hand was bleeding where I had bitten it, but I didn't feel it.
All I could feel was devastation, rage and heartbreak.
When I was far enough away, I ran.
I climbed into my car, and my body shook so violently I could barely hold the wheel. I sat there in the darkness, tears streaming down my face, my palm pressed protectively over my stomach.
Four babies murdered. Used as experiments to cure my sister's infertility so she could carry my husband's child.
And now he was going to destroy my reputation and take everything I had left.
I barely remembered driving home. My hands shook so violently on the steering wheel that I almost crashed twice.
I drove home in a daze, their conversation replaying endlessly in my head.
‘She’s an idiot. She has nothing and no one. She’ll end up back in some countryside hovel where she belongs.’
I walked inside the house absentmindedly, then I headed straight to Adrian’s home office.
I needed proof. Evidence. Something to make sense of what I had heard.
My hands shook as I searched through his files, his laptop, his locked drawers. I found the small brass key hidden beneath the drawer lining and opened the filing cabinet.
Medical records with my name. Dates that matched every pregnancy. Procedures I never consented to. Bank statements showing payments to a private research facility.
I kept searching, my hands moving faster.
Finally, I found the transfer record. The company shares Adrian had promised me as a wedding gift—I had signed them all back to him without realizing it.
I stared at the document until the words blurred.
"She'll walk away with nothing."
A bitter laugh escaped me. Adrian was so ignorant of the truth.
I couldn't be left with nothing, because what Adrian didn't know was that he hadn't built Moretti Enterprises from nothing.
I had.
Five years ago, when his company nearly went bankrupt, an anonymous investor saved it. The investor paid all the debts, funded the expansions, and covered the losses.
That investor was me.
I was the anonymous silent shareholder with fifty percent ownership of his company. I had created the account under my maiden name, Elena Rossi, using an offshore account that Adrian never knew existed.
Before I married Adrian, Clara had left me her entire life savings. It was money she had carefully saved from her seamstress work over decades, along with inheritance from her parents.
It was about a million thousand dollars, but I was careful with it. I invested it wisely, made smart decisions, and over the years, it grew. By the time Adrian's company was failing, I poured $147 million into his failing company.
So his empire was built on my money.
And he called me an idiot.
Another laugh escaped me.
I gathered every document, every file, every piece of evidence, and made copies, hiding them where he would never think to look.
Then I sank to the cold floor of his office and cried until my body had nothing left to give.
When there were no tears left, I just sat there, feeling empty. I had no idea where to start.
Then I remembered something Adrian had said months ago.
"Stay away from Ivan Romano. He's my biggest competitor. He is ruthless and dangerous. He will do anything to destroy me."
Ivan Romano. Adrian's biggest rival and worst enemy.
He was the only one who could help me now.
I picked up my phone with trembling fingers and began searching. It took twenty minutes to find Ivan's private number buried deep in Adrian's files.
I stared at it for a long time.
Once I made this call, there would be no going back.
But when I thought of my four babies, of Celeste's mocking laughter, of Adrian's cruelty, I pressed Call.
The phone rang twice before a deep, smooth voice answered. "Who is this?"
My throat tightened, but I forced the words out. "My name is Elena Moretti. I'm Adrian Moretti's wife."
A pause. "Moretti's wife. What do you want?"
Tears blurred my vision. "I need your help."
"Why would Adrian Moretti's wife be calling me? I am your husband's rival." His tone sharpened.
"Because I want him destroyed," I whispered. "And I think you're the only man who hates him as much as I do."
Silence stretched.
Then Ivan laughed. It was a dark, low sound that sent a shiver through me.
"Mrs. Moretti," he said slowly, "you have my complete attention."
