Prologue:
I was three months pregnant when I went in for a prenatal checkup.
My husband was considerate enough to accompany me, immediately posting our ultrasound picture on social media.
The caption read: “My little princess, Daddy loves you!”
Relatives and friends saw it and quickly sent their blessings.
The next day, in the hospital hallway, I caught sight of him holding Olivia Reed tightly in his arms.
Through her tears, Olivia sobbed, “Your wife is pregnant, so what about the baby in my belly?”
Daniel Scott gently wiped away her tears.
“Silly girl, she’s having a daughter. The Scott family doesn’t accept daughters. The family has already arranged a car accident.”
“You’re the one carrying the Scott heir. Once she miscarries, I’ll divorce her and marry you.”
I turned away and dialed a number I hadn’t called in three years.
Daniel, since you want me to miscarry, I’ll make sure your family goes bankrupt.
On the screen, that tiny life was just a blurry outline, but it meant the entire world to me.
The doctor’s gentle voice: “It’s a girl, very healthy.”
Daniel carefully saved the ultrasound picture to his phone, his lips unable to hide a smile.
Soon, the photo spread through the New York elite society’s social media circle.
“My little princess, Daddy loves you!” The image showed our tightly clasped hands and the blurry ultrasound.
Quickly, a stream of blessings poured in—from relatives, friends, and countless business partners.
“Congratulations, Daniel, a beautiful baby girl!”
“Your little princess will be as gorgeous as her mom!”
Daniel replied to each message, his face glowing with joy at becoming a father.
He leaned down, kissed my forehead, and whispered tenderly: “Rachel, thank you. She’s the proof of our love.”
I caressed my still-flat belly, drowning in the joy of becoming a mother, certain I had never been happier in my life.
Daniel, the only son of the Scott family, came from a powerful business empire, well-known among New York’s elite society.
And I? Just a girl from an ordinary background.
Our union had once been mocked as a “Prince and Cinderella” tale.
Everyone said I was lucky to marry so well—and even I believed it.
Daniel, handsome and attentive, had pampered me into becoming a true princess.
But I never imagined this fairy tale was nothing more than an elaborate lie he carefully wove.
The following day, I went alone to the hospital to collect a detailed report.
As I turned the corner of the OB-GYN department, a familiar tearful voice reached my ears.
“Daniel, your wife is pregnant. What about my baby?”
It was Olivia’s voice.
Daniel’s so-called “sister figure”—and my supposed best friend.
I froze in place, my body rigid, cold sweat running down my skin.
Then Daniel’s voice followed.
“Silly girl, she’s having a daughter. The Scott family doesn’t recognize daughters.”
“Don’t worry, the family has arranged a car accident. Clean and neat—it’ll look like an accident.”
“You’re the one carrying the Scott heir. Once she loses that ‘burden,’ I’ll divorce her and marry you.”
“By then, you’ll be the rightful wife of the Scott family.”
The hallway fell silent for a few seconds before Olivia’s sobs shifted into a smile.
“Really, Daniel? You’re not lying to me?”
“When have I ever lied to you?” Daniel’s voice dripped with a tenderness that could drown—but for me, it was an icy plunge into despair.
My world spun. Every sweet moment between us instantly twisted into the most nauseating of lies.
