I cried until the sky outside shifted from black to gray. My chest throbbed with a misery far worse than the ache left in my abdomen. I had lost everything—my child, my ability to carry another, the small piece of dignity I had left.
And Dominic?
He never even bothered to show up.
He told me he’d be back soon, that there were “things he had to settle.”
But the night passed. Morning followed.
And I lay there alone in that freezing hospital room, listening to machines beep while my phone stayed painfully silent. No message. No call. Not even a lie to hold onto.
Out of habit—or foolish hope—I reached for my phone. Maybe he left something. Maybe anything.
But the screen lit up, and instead of Dominic, I saw her.
Isabelle.
Her newest Instagram story.
She was lounging on a yacht, sun kissing her skin, laughing as if the world adored her. Her gold bikini glimmered under the light, champagne glasses clinking around her—music blasting in the background.
Then my heart stopped.
Because Dominic walked into the frame.
Bare-chested. Relaxed. Smiling.
And then he leaned in and kissed her like she was the only woman who ever mattered.
My vision went hazy. My hand went numb. The phone hit the wall, but the pain in my chest refused to break with it.
The following morning, a nurse came in holding my discharge forms. Dominic didn’t come. He didn’t even send a text.
The driver showed up instead, telling me, “Sir said he’s preparing something special at home, ma’am.”
A surprise.
The irony tasted bitter on my tongue.
I didn’t have the energy to argue. I let them wheel me out. Let them make decisions for me. I was too empty to fight.
But when we reached the estate, I realized quickly that it wasn’t some private homecoming. Music thundered from the backyard. Cars lined the driveway. Laughter drifted from the open doors.
This wasn’t for me.
When I stepped inside, my breath hitched.
Gold balloons hung from the ceiling, a towering cake sparkled under the lights with the message written in big, bold letters:
WELCOME HOME, ISABELLE!
Isabelle.
Not Vanessa.
Not me.
At the center of the celebration stood Isabelle herself—glowing, triumphant, surrounded by admirers. She rested one manicured hand on the shoulder of a small boy clinging to her skirt. People swarmed around them like worshippers around a goddess.
Dominic’s mother, Janice, lifted her champagne glass high and proclaimed, “You should move back into the mansion, Isabelle. And bring your son. Dominic will take care of both of you.”
Isabelle let out a soft, graceful laugh. “I don’t know if that’s appropriate. What about your daughter-in-law? She might not like it.”
Janice snorted. “That girl? Who cares what she thinks? She was never meant for Dominic. I didn’t want her then, and I don’t want her now. She struts around as if she belongs here just because she once kept him alive. She’s irrelevant. Worthless.”
None of this surprised me. Janice had despised me since day one.
For years she whispered venom behind my back, always watching, always judging. She blamed me for her failed marriage—convinced that Dominic’s father favored me because I reminded him of something she could never be.
She accused me of an affair with a man who treated me like his own daughter. I had been twenty years old.
Dominic defended me back then. Told her I was family. That I was the reason he survived the darkest night of his life. That I was loyal.
I believed those words.
Believed I meant something.
But now? I finally understood—he only needed someone to keep him standing until Isabelle crawled back into his orbit.
Janice lifted her glass again. “Don’t worry, I’ll make Dominic file for divorce soon. Then maybe you and he can finally be together.”
Isabelle giggled. “That… actually sounds tempting.”
My lungs tightened. I’d heard enough.
I stepped back quietly, unnoticed—as always—and headed for the stairs. Each step sent sharp pain through my abdomen. I just wanted to reach the room, lock the door, breathe—
Something metal slammed into my skull.
A tin can.
I staggered, gripping the railing. “What the—?”
A toddler stood at the top of the stairs. Maybe around three. Wide brown eyes. Quivering lip. And then he burst into loud, panicked sobs.
“What did you do to him?”
Janice’s shrill voice echoed behind me.
She marched up, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and yanked so hard I nearly toppled. “Did you make him cry, you vicious little tramp?”
“He threw something at me!” I rasped.
“So what if he did?” Janice snapped. “He’s a child! And you—what kind of monster scares a baby? No wonder you lost yours. You would’ve been a terrible mother.”
Her words cut deeper than any knife the kidnappers used on me.
“Mom, that’s enough!”
Dominic appeared at the top of the stairs, jaw tight. “She’s my wife,” he insisted.
Janice rolled her eyes. “Not for long. I told you to get rid of her—she’s defective now. A barren woman. She let herself get kidnapped and cost you an heir.”
My spine stiffened, humiliation dripping down my skin like acid.
The little boy ran straight to Dominic and wrapped his arms around his leg.
“Daddy… I’m scared of her.”
Daddy?
My heart froze.
And suddenly, the resemblance punched me in the chest.
I turned to Dominic, my voice barely alive. “Why is he calling you that? Who is he?”
Dominic inhaled sharply. “He’s Isabelle’s son. My cousin’s kid. But… he’ll be staying with us. He needs a father. I’ll raise him as my own.”
My stomach dropped. “They’re both living here? And you didn’t think you should tell me?”
Isabelle gave a polite, fake little laugh. “Oh, Vanessa, don’t make it awkward—”
Dominic cut her off. “Stop overreacting. You just got back from the hospital. Try being considerate. Isabelle just lost her husband. Her child deserves stability. Let’s do the right thing.”
I stared at him. At all of them.
My grief rose like a scream—but I swallowed it down.
“Do whatever you want,” I said, voice icy.
And I turned to climb the stairs.
But Janice wasn’t done.
She seized my arm and shoved me forward. “Ungrateful witch! After all this family has done for you!”
I lost my balance. My feet slipped.
I fell.
Tumbling down step after step, each impact sending a fresh burst of agony through me. I hit the floor hard, feeling everything and nothing at the same time.
A wail echoed from above—the child had slipped too, landing near me.
Everyone rushed toward him.
Dominic knelt immediately. “Hey, buddy, are you okay? Daddy’s here.”
Not one pair of eyes turned to me.
I dragged myself toward the stairs, palms scraping the floor, vision blurring. I forced myself up, step by painful step, while laughter and scolding filled the hall behind me.
With every inch I climbed, it became clearer:
I didn’t belong here anymore.
I had already been replaced.
