Chapter 1

The day I went into labor, Adrian had barely walked me into the maternity ward before Lydia called him for help.

"Lydia's condition just took a turn. I have to go."

I caught his sleeve.

"I'm about to give birth."

His face went cold. "Are you seriously jealous of Lydia now?"

For three years after our wedding, he kept me on the eighteenth floor of a luxury apartment building.

The three women he introduced as his brothers' wives lived on the nineteenth, twentieth, and twenty-first floors.

He said his brothers spent most of the year overseas, and having everyone close made it easier to look after one another.

But in those three years, whenever Lydia had a migraine, he went upstairs in the middle of the night.

When Megan had stomach cramps, he walked out on our anniversary.

When Vanessa had a breakdown, he ignored my calls from prenatal appointments.

After he left, I started hemorrhaging.

The nurse checked my insurance authorization three times. Each time, the system rejected it.

I called him through the pain.

He sounded irritated. "I give you three hundred thousand dollars every month. Where did it go?"

But I had never received a cent.

The next second, an unknown number sent me two screenshots.

The first was Adrian's monthly transfer record to me.

Only the recipient accounts belonged to the three so-called family in-laws.

The second was their group chat.

[Her share gets split the same way as usual.]

[Three years, and she actually still believes we're family.]

Vanessa wrote: [I'm giving birth today too. Adrian is with me. If the one in her belly doesn't make it, that's one less problem.]

So the brothers had only ever been a cover.

All three women were Adrian's lovers.

Before I could even close the chat, the fetal monitor began to shriek.

The baby's heart rate plunged.

When I woke again, my child was gone.

The nurse told me he had lived for ten minutes. They could not save him.

On my phone was a message Adrian had sent half an hour earlier:

[Lydia needs help tonight. Stop making trouble. The baby isn't a reason to pressure me.]

I wiped my tears and sent every piece of evidence to my attorney.

[Draft the divorce agreement. Sue them.]

Then I booked a flight to San Diego.

My baby was gone.

And so was my marriage.

...

The day I was discharged, I went to the airport alone.

The hospital bracelet my baby had left behind was tucked into my carry-on.

I had just checked my luggage when Adrian called.

"You hired a lawyer to sue the three women?"

"Are they family in-laws, or are they your lovers?"

He was silent for a few seconds.

"So you know."

"I know enough to sue them and divorce you."

He paused.

"It was a cruel prank. I'll reimburse you. Let it end here."

I asked, "Can you reimburse me for my baby too?"

The line went quiet.

"There you go again, using the baby to pressure me. Emma, stop doing that."

"Drop the lawsuit. I'll send someone to bring you home."

I laughed coldly and hung up.

My attorney messaged me with newly found records.

On the day my delivery went wrong, the last three hundred thousand dollars those women intercepted had all gone to the private medical center upstairs.

A private delivery suite, postpartum care, and newborn services.

The patient was Vanessa.

Adrian had signed as her emergency contact.

The payment time was 3:17 p.m.

By then, my contractions had already started, but my insurance authorization and guarantor account had both been rejected, leaving me alone while the hospital verified my admission paperwork.

She, meanwhile, was using our marital assets to stay in a private delivery suite upstairs.

The file included a birth video.

When I opened it, Adrian appeared on screen.

Vanessa lay in bed with a newborn boy in her arms.

Adrian sat beside her, smiling down at the baby.

The others gathered around the bed.

Lydia's face was bright and healthy as she chatted with everyone. She looked nothing like a woman having a cardiac episode.

So Adrian had abandoned his wife during a birth emergency to be with his lover.

In the video, his assistant opened the door.

"Adrian, Emma's baby's heart rate keeps dropping. The doctors are trying to stabilize her."

Adrian did not stand up.

"She has doctors and midwives with her. She'll be fine."

Lydia asked, "Should we tell her you're upstairs?"

"Not yet. She'll only use the baby to pressure me again."

He bent and kissed Vanessa's forehead.

The baby in his arms started crying.

Adrian immediately softened his voice and soothed him with patient care.

Vanessa smiled. "We're both safe. What about her?"

"She's tough. She'll live."

The video ended there.

At that same moment, my baby died in a recovery room downstairs.

The boarding announcement sounded.

Adrian sent another message:

[I've booked your return flight.]

[Bring the baby home. I can let the past go.]

I mailed the baby's bracelet and the signed divorce papers back to the Whitmore residence.

Then I boarded the plane.

Neither my baby nor I would ever go back.