Chapter 1

I was bleeding out on the delivery table. There wasn't enough time to save both of us.

The surgeon rushed down the hall, holding a critical notice and shouting, "Where is Evelyn Reed's family?"

When the call finally connected, my husband’s voice was laced with pure fury.

"Hailey’s son has a fever, and she can't handle it alone. Don't bother me with this right now!"

"Save the baby. The baby is all that matters."

In that exact second, every last shred of my love for him died.

My hands trembled violently as I signed the consent form myself. I chose my own life.

When they finally wheeled me out of the OR, Julian Vance was the only one standing outside. His eyes were bloodshot.

I looked up at his devastated face and whispered, "If you don't mind a broken, divorced woman... take me away."

"I'll take you."

Julian's voice shook, but his gaze was unshakeable.

The attending doctor walked over with a solemn expression.

"The patient just survived a massive hemorrhage. Her body is in a critical, fragile state. She cannot be moved. Complete rest is non-negotiable."

Julian looked down at my colorless face, the rims of his eyes burning red.

"Move her to the best VIP suite on the top floor. Get the top private care team," he ordered his assistant behind him.

"Do it right now. Move!"

In less than thirty minutes, I was transferred to the presidential recovery suite.

It was so quiet it felt completely cut off from the rest of the world. There was no harsh smell of bleach, only the faint, soothing scent of lavender.

Julian stepped up to the edge of the bed and gently tucked the blanket around my shoulders.

His phone buzzed relentlessly against his pocket. His assistant hovered by the door, frantic.

"Mr. Vance, our overseas branch is having a massive crisis. Your flight is already delayed. You have to leave right now."

Julian declined the call and looked down at me, his eyes filled with agonizing regret.

"Eve, I have an urgent matter I must handle personally. I'll be back as fast as I can."

He paused, his voice deepening.

"I’ve arranged a private caregiver. Rest and heal while I’m gone. Don't worry about anything."

The door swung open, and a middle-aged woman in a crisp, clean uniform walked in.

She carried herself with quiet efficiency, and her eyes were kind.

Julian nodded toward her. "This is Martha. She’s top-tier and highly experienced. She won't leave your side for a second."

Then, he turned to Martha. His gentle expression vanished, replaced by a chilling edge.

"Martha, remember my instructions. If Evelyn’s husband shows up, do not let him in."

"No matter what he says, he does not take a single step toward her."

"Everything waits until I get back."

Martha blinked in surprise, then nodded firmly.

"Understood, Mr. Vance. You can trust me."

Julian took one last long look at me before turning around and striding out of the room.

As the door clicked shut, absolute silence fell over the room.

I lay on the soft mattress, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Six months ago, Derek Collins suddenly brought Hailey and her little boy home.

He had said, "This is my ex. I only just found out she was pregnant with my child when we broke up years ago."

"She was a single mother. She carried him alone and raised him through sheer misery."

"I didn't know back then. But now that I do, as the boy's father, it is my duty to take care of them."

From that day on, his eyes only ever saw that mother and son.

Martha walked over softly. "Mrs. Collins—ma'am, try to get some sleep. If you need anything at all, just tell me."

I gave a slight nod and closed my eyes.

The next two days were completely peaceful.

Just as expected, Derek never showed up.

He was still playing the dutiful father at the bedside of Hailey's sick kid. He couldn't care less whether I lived or died.

Good. It spared me the disgust of looking at his face.

Martha took exceptional care of me. Every few hours, she gently wiped me down and helped me shift positions to ease the pain.

She never pried. She just did her job with quiet compassion.

On the third morning, bright sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting warm stripes across my sheets.

I finally found enough strength to sit up against the pillows.

The throbbing ache in my abdomen served as a sharp reminder of the nightmare I had just survived.

I dialed my lawyer's number.

"Arthur, it's me. Evelyn."

"Draft the divorce papers. I want them ready as fast as possible."

A brief silence hung on the other end of the line before Arthur Miller’s steady voice answered:

"Evelyn, are you certain? With your current physical state..."

"I'm completely certain," I cut him off, my voice dead calm.

"I am divorcing him. No matter what."

I hung up and turned my gaze toward the window.

A withered yellow leaf detached from a branch, twirling through the wind before falling to the pavement.

Out with the old. In with the new.

I lightly rested my palm against my flat belly. There used to be a little life inside me.

*I'm so sorry, my baby. But Mommy will never let that monster hurt us ever again.*

The door suddenly swung open. Martha walked in carrying a bowl of steaming warm oatmeal.

"You're awake! Have some warm porridge to settle your stomach."

I took the bowl and had a small spoonful. A soothing warmth spread through my chest.

In that moment, I was overwhelmingly grateful that I was still alive.