Chapter 1

While I was at home preparing a birthday gift for my son, Noah, I found a wedding dress order slip in my husband Liam Foster’s pocket.

It was the exact style I loved most.

I had been waiting for this wedding for seven years. I never expected my husband to be preparing a surprise for me—but why wasn’t the size mine?

I pretended I’d seen nothing, folded the order slip neatly, and put it back in his pocket.

Then my phone rang suddenly.

“Is this Ms. Clara Bennett? Your mother, Sophia, was pushed down the stairs. She has intracranial bleeding and needs emergency surgery. We’re still short fifty thousand for the deposit. Please bring it over immediately, or we won’t be able to start the operation!”

The doctor’s voice was rushed and cold, like a bucket of ice water poured straight over my head.

My mind went blank with a loud buzz. I grabbed my wallet, snatched my keys, and rushed downstairs.

Wasn’t my mom supposed to be picking Noah up from kindergarten?

How could she have been pushed down the stairs?

At the hospital payment counter, I swiped three different bank cards in succession. Every single one came back with the same message:

Insufficient balance.

I clenched the cards in my fingers, the cold plastic edges digging painfully into my skin.

All these cards had been set up for me by Liam. He’d always said the household money was mine to manage—he earned it, I just needed to stay home and live peacefully.

And now, every cent was gone.

There was no time to argue. I turned and ran home.

There was still some money I’d saved before marriage, hidden in the false compartment of my bedside table. That was my last hope—the final bit of security I’d kept for myself.

The moment I pushed the door open, something felt wrong.

The living room was in chaos. Noah’s toys were scattered across the floor, as if someone had kicked them aside in a hurry. A cold premonition crept up my spine.

The master bedroom door was half open.

Sticky panting and teasing laughter spilled out, freezing the blood in my veins and turning my limbs ice-cold.

It was my husband.

With my sister.

She was my father’s illegitimate daughter—the reason my mother had divorced. But she’d always treated me well. I thought she was the only warmth left in my broken family.

I stood there, nailed to the spot. Through the crack in the door, I saw Liam pressing Vanessa down on our marital bed, on the sheets I had personally chosen. His chin rested against her neck, his profile filled with a tenderness and obsession I had never once received.

And the words he spoke were knives dipped in poison.

“My Vanessa really is the sweetest. That necklace looks perfect on you.”

His fingers brushed over the dazzling sparkle at her throat.

My pupils shrank violently.

That was the diamond necklace I’d admired in magazines for ages. On my last birthday, I’d asked Liam for it. He’d wrapped an arm around me and said, “Too flashy. It doesn’t suit you. Simple things look better on you.”

Then he took me to a street stall and bought me a plastic one.

So it wasn’t that it didn’t suit me.

He just never intended to give it to me.

Vanessa giggled and snuggled closer, her fingers tracing his chest flirtatiously.

“Liam, you’re so good to me. You even bought this because you knew I’d like it. But… you used my sister’s card to buy me a gift. Won’t she get angry if she finds out?”

“Her?” Liam snorted, his tone both indulgent and cruel.

“That blockhead probably won’t even notice the money’s gone. Besides, what’s hers isn’t mine? Even her little stash of private savings—didn’t I use that to buy you jewelry too?”

My nails dug deep into my palms.

That money… I’d saved it desperately before marriage by working part-time jobs. It was meant to be my last line of defense.

He’d been eyeing it all along.

“You really are the good one,” Liam murmured as he lowered his head to kiss Vanessa’s collarbone.

“Not like that useless Clara. Can’t even keep a child. Three of them. Three. Pregnant, lost it. Pregnant again, lost it again. Such a waste of my time.”

Vanessa laughed sweetly, her voice dripping with sugar.

“Liam,That's not how it works. If it weren’t for my sister’s three babies, how could we have given birth to Noah so smoothly?”

My breathing stopped.

Wasn’t Noah adopted because Liam couldn’t bear to see me lose another child?

How was he Vanessa’s child?

And what did this have to do with my dead babies?

Liam chuckled softly.

“You’re right. You are smart. The first embryo tissue was used as a research sample. The second—its flesh and blood nourished your body, which is why you conceived Noah. As for the third, Noah was born prematurely, so we used that little thing’s stem cells and cord blood to save him. Thinking back, when she was crying so hard she almost passed out, I still had to hold her and comfort her. Disgusting.”

Every word was a red-hot iron rod, stabbing straight into my ears and branding my soul.

My legs felt leaden, rooted to the ground.

Fragments of dark memories surged back—the tearing pain of losing my children, Liam holding me and whispering “It’s fate being unfair. We’re still young,” Vanessa staying by my bedside with red eyes, saying “Rest well, sis. You’ll have another baby.”

All of it was a carefully woven lie.

A long, brutal sacrifice—paved with the flesh and blood of my own children—to build their love.

“That’s only because I didn’t want to get married yet, so I let her raise Noah,” Vanessa sneered.

“She treats him like her heart and soul. Feeding him, telling him stories, picking him up from school—she has no idea she’s raising a child who survived by drinking her own baby’s blood. Pathetic and stupid.”

“Noah is our son,” Liam said with a smile.

“She’s happy to be a free nanny. Saves trouble. You can focus on your dance career and secure Mr. G’s investment. Isn’t your father pushing you to marry that fool from the Nicholson family—Gregory? I say we just send Clara to his bed on the engagement day. They’re both Bennett daughters anyway. Whoever marries makes no difference. I get rid of her, and we can finally be together openly.”

The Nicholson family…

That heir rumored to be disabled from an accident, with a gloomy, twisted personality—Gregory Nicholson?

A substitute bride.

My blood froze completely.

They wanted my children’s lives.

They used my flesh and blood to raise their illegitimate son.

And now they wanted to squeeze out my last bit of value and throw me to another man like trash.

“But…” Vanessa’s voice softened, calculating.

“What if my sister causes trouble?”

“Would she dare?” Liam’s tone turned cold.

“Her mother Sophia’s medical bills—every bit of her follow-up treatment—is in my hands. Clara’s the submissive type. For her mom, she’ll swallow any humiliation. And besides—”

He paused, his contempt naked.

“A housewife I’ve supported for years. Her bank cards are with me, her documents are with me, and she’s long lost contact with her friends. Without me, she wouldn’t last three days. Once she’s sent into the Nicholson family, she can scream all she wants—no one will hear her.”

Hatred and pain surged in my chest like boiling magma, scorching my organs. Tears poured down uncontrollably. I bit my lip hard, the taste of rust filling my mouth, barely suppressing the scream clawing up my throat.

I couldn’t make a sound.

Not yet.

Leaning against the cold wall, I retreated silently into the stairwell. The motion-sensor light went out, and darkness swallowed me whole. Downstairs, their disgusting laughter drifted up faintly.

My hands shaking, I took out my phone. The screen’s faint glow lit my tear-streaked face. I scrolled to the very bottom of my contacts.

A name that had been silent for years.

Mr. G.

Three years ago, before I fully retreated into domestic life, I had been one of the most gifted rising stars in the dance world. During a performance, I caught the eye of the most discerning investor in the industry—Mr. G. He promised to make me a top-tier dance artist.

I gave it all up for my marriage with Liam.

That year, he handed me a pure black business card—only a name and a handwritten number.

Mr. G.

I’d thought it was just polite courtesy. I’d even been intimidated by his cold, oppressive aura.

But for some reason, I never threw the card away.

I never imagined I’d truly dial it.

The phone rang for a long time. Just as I thought no one would answer, a voice came through.

“Hello.”

Low and deep, slightly hoarse as if just awakened, carrying a trace of cold impatience—yet it oddly steadied my fraying nerves.

“Mr. G…” I spoke, my voice shattered and unrecognizable.

“This is Clara. Five years ago at the gala, you gave me your card. I need help. My mother needs medical fees. Someone killed my children. They’re planning to harm me at the Nicholson family’s engagement banquet in seven days—forcing me to marry the Nicholson heir in her place. If you save me, I’m willing to accept the arrangement you proposed back then.”

I was incoherent, struggling to hold back my sobs and shaking.

“Nicholson family… Gregory?”

There was a two-second silence on the other end.

Then his voice came clearly—no doubt, no hesitation.

“Attend the engagement banquet in seven days. I’ll handle everything.”

The call ended.

The cold electronic tone sounded, yet it felt as if I were clutching a lifeline. I leaned against the icy wall and slowly slid to the floor, darkness and silence wrapping around me.

My face was damp. I raised my hand and wiped away the tears forcefully. My fingers brushed my lips—blood from where I’d bitten them. The pain cleared my mind.

Beneath the bone-freezing ice in my heart, a tiny but stubborn spark finally ignited.

Liam. Vanessa.

You thought draining my blood, crushing my bones, turning me into a vine clinging to your lives meant I could only kneel and wait for death?

You’re wrong.

From the moment I learned the truth, the Clara who only cried, endured, and believed in “fate’s injustice”—died.