Chapter 1

The positive pregnancy test in my purse was a beautiful, glowing secret I couldn't wait to share with my husband, Lucas. But first, as a lead gemologist, I had to hand-deliver a ten-million-dollar custom teardrop diamond to an anonymous VIP.

I smoothed down my silk dress, took a deep breath, and rang the penthouse bell.

The heavy mahogany door swung open.

My polite, professional smile instantly froze.

It wasn't a stranger. It was Paula Sinclair. My mentor and closest friend. I hadn't seen her in three years—not since she abruptly retired and moved to Europe, keeping our friendship alive through texts and always dodging any photos of her mysterious, wealthy husband.

Yet here she was. And she was heavily, unmistakably pregnant.

And she was wearing a custom-tailored white dress shirt. My breath hitched painfully. I knew that shirt. It looked exactly like my husband’s favorite dress shirt, right down to the silver threading on the cuff. It hung loosely over her swollen belly.

"Shaina, darling! You made it," Paula purred. She plucked the velvet box from my trembling hand. "Thank you for bringing this personally. I told my husband it was too risky to have a ten-million-dollar anniversary gift delivered by a standard courier."

I couldn't tear my eyes away from the silver threading on her sleeve. "Your husband?" I managed to ask, my throat suddenly tight. "In all these years, you never actually told me his name."

"Oh, didn't I?" Paula laughed, a light, dismissive sound. "It's Lucas. My hubby is just so horribly impatient."

Lucas.

The word hit me like a physical blow. The air vanished from my lungs. The shirt. The name.

No, I told myself frantically. Lucas is a common name. It’s a coincidence. You are just being paranoid.

But my heart was pounding a frantic, terrifying rhythm against my ribs. I needed to hear my husband's voice. I needed to call him at his office right now, just to prove to myself that I was losing my mind over nothing.

"I... I need to use the restroom," I stammered, blindly pushing past her and reaching into my purse for my phone.

"Down the hall, to the left," Paula called out, completely distracted by the blinding jewels.

I stumbled down the sprawling, opulent hallway, my hands shaking so violently I could barely unlock my phone screen.

I shoved open the first door on the left, desperate to lock myself in, call my Lucas, and splash cold water on my face.

It wasn't a bathroom.

It was a fully equipped medical nursery.

Sterile white walls, beeping heart monitors, and a massive, state-of-the-art medical crib dominated the room.

But what made my blood run absolute ice was the glowing iPad propped up on the changing table.

An active video call was playing.

On the screen was a pale, fragile five-year-old boy in a stark hospital bed. He was crying, his tiny hands clutching a stuffed bear.

"Daddy," the boy whimpered. "When is the baby coming? It hurts."

"Soon, Carl. I promise, buddy," a deep, familiar voice replied from the speaker.

My phone slipped from my numb fingers and hit the carpeted floor.

It was Lucas. My Lucas.

"The incubator is perfectly on track," Lucas continued. "Just a few more months, and you'll have everything you need to get better."

A wave of pure, suffocating nausea washed over me. I backed away from the screen, my hand flying to my mouth to stifle a scream.

I stumbled out of the nursery. As I neared the adjacent study, I noticed the heavy oak door was left slightly ajar.

Voices drifted into the hallway.

"She doesn't suspect a thing," Lucas was saying.

"She better not," another voice snapped.

I froze. My heart stopped beating entirely.

Ethan. My own brother.

"I played my part, Lucas," Ethan hissed, the sound of his voice making my skin crawl. "I forged the marriage certificate perfectly. The state has no record of you two. Now, wipe my slate clean. You promised my underground gambling debts would be erased the moment she got pregnant."

"Your debts are millions, Ethan," Lucas scoffed coldly. "You'll get your clearance when the child is born and the cord blood is harvested. Not a single second before."

I pressed my back against the freezing marble wall, sliding down slightly as the horrifying truth shattered my entire reality.

"Paula is getting anxious," Lucas continued, the sharp clink of a crystal glass echoing through the crack in the door. "We’ve been legally married in Monaco for six years. She’s tired of hiding in this penthouse while I play house with your sister."

"Then hurry it up," Ethan shot back without a single ounce of remorse. "Shaina was the only one with the exact, rare genetic markers to save Carl. You hunted her down. You groomed her. You made her fall in love with you. Just take the stem cells when the baby comes and get rid of her."

"I will," Lucas said smoothly. "Once Carl is cured, Shaina’s usefulness is over."

They didn't want me. They didn't want the innocent child growing inside me.

I was nothing but a walking, breathing organ farm for his real family.

A sacrificial lamb bought and sold by my own brother to cover his pathetic mistakes.

I closed my eyes. The desperate, foolish girl who loved Lucas died right there on the cold marble floor.

When I opened my eyes again, my sorrow had instantly hardened into absolute, lethal rage.

I had to protect my baby. I had to run.

I forced myself to stand. My expensive heels were completely silent on the thick rugs as I crept back down the hallway.

I bypassed the living room, where Paula was still admiring her stolen diamonds in the mirror, completely oblivious to my presence.

The front door was only ten feet away.

I reached out, my trembling fingers wrapping around the cool, brass doorknob.

Before I could turn it, Lucas appeared behind my back.

"Going somewhere, my lovely incubator?"