I’d always known Glen was an old-school, traditional kind of man. So when he said things like that, all I felt was guilt. Heartbreaking, soul-deep guilt. And I tried to make it right.
Every day, I worked hard at the office, only to come home and play the role of the perfect wife—cooking for him, cleaning, tending to his needs like some live-in nanny—just to make up for the shame I felt in not being able to carry a pregnancy to term.
But what I never imagined… was that every single one of those miscarriages was intentional.
They weren’t tragic accidents or bad luck. They were calculated. Cold-blooded.
And the man responsible? The one I trusted with my heart, my body, my future?
He did it.
The man who claimed to love our unborn children had been the one killing them—one by one.
The truth hit me like a freight train, knocking the wind out of me. My knees buckled and I had to brace myself against the wall just to stay upright, one hand pressed to my chest, trying to keep my heart from shattering completely.
And then, Emily’s voice floated out from the suite again.
“Oh, by the way,” she said breezily, “you two are heading off for your honeymoon after the wedding, right? While you’re gone, her parents will be all alone here. I’ve already made arrangements. The minute you leave, my people will take care of it. Once her parents are out of the picture, she’ll have no one left—only you.”
She paused, her voice taking on a note of triumph.
“And once she’s dead, you—her legal husband—inherit everything. The Snow Family empire will be all yours, baby. We’re so close. Our good days are just around the corner!”
Inside the suite, Glen laughed. Not a chuckle. A full-blown, triumphant, villainous laugh.
“I’ve waited so damn long for this. Finally—finally—I’m gonna get everything I deserve. If it weren’t for this stupid wedding today, I’d never leave your side. Your body drives me insane, Em. I swear, I can’t get enough of you.”
Another wet, hungry kiss followed, echoing out like a slap to the face.
I couldn’t breathe.
I could still remember the night I got the call about my parents’ plane crash. I’d collapsed to the ground, hysterical and Glen had swept me into his arms like a hero in some twisted romance.
He held me, kissed away my tears and whispered, “Lana, don’t cry. I’m your family now. You’ll always have me.”
God, I was so naïve.
I never once questioned the accident. Never considered that the wreckage of that plane might not have been an act of fate—but a carefully orchestrated disaster.
Murder.
And it was all for money.
My legs shook, but I forced myself to stand. No matter what it took, I wouldn’t let Glen Rivera get away with this. Not after what he did to my babies. To my parents. To me.
I had been given a second chance at life.
This time, I’d fight back.
The suite door creaked open.
Glen stepped out, adjusting his tux jacket, not even bothering to check if Emily had lipstick on his collar. The moment his eyes met mine, his expression faltered—panic flickering behind those familiar, honey-brown eyes.
“Lana, w-what are you doing here?” he stammered. “The ceremony is about to start. Is everything okay? You don’t look good. Are you sick?”
That voice—so gentle, so worried. The same voice that used to lull me to sleep at night.
He walked right up to me, wrapped his arms around me like he hadn’t just been screwing another woman five minutes ago.
Emily’s cloying perfume still clung to him, thick and bitter. My stomach twisted.
Still, he whispered in that soft, familiar way, “Lana, baby, don’t scare me like this. Today is the most important day of our lives. I’ve dreamed of this for so long. I love you. I need you. Please, don’t let anything ruin this. If something happened to you, I’d be devastated—for the rest of my life.”
His voice trembled. His eyes even glistened, as if on the verge of tears.
And anyone looking would’ve thought: Wow, this man must love her so deeply.
But the truth is?
All I wanted to do was throw up.
