1 Our doctor called Caspian Hamblett and me a match made in heaven—a cruel twist of fate, really. His fertility rate was practically zero, a severe case of male infertility. Mine was the exact opposite; I was hyper-fertile. We were a biological paradox. And so, in our third year of marriage, the impossible happened: I conceived naturally. I tucked the positive pregnancy test into a small, elegant box, planning to give it to him on his birthday. The perfect surprise. But he beat me to it, exploding across the internet first: #HamblettHeirCaspianAndSupermodelGirlfriendInSteamyHotelRomp #SeraphinaRowesBody #LearningNewTricksAtTheApexHotel I felt like I’d been plunged into a cavern of ice. I called Caspian, my hand trembling. He answered, his voice a low, intimate murmur. “Babe, I’ve got a business dinner tonight. Don’t wait up.” Before I could utter a single word, he hung up, leaving me frozen in silence. I didn’t sleep that night. … The comments online were a torrent of poison. [You can’t really blame him for finding another woman. His wife is barren.] [Exactly. He’s handsome, rich, incredible in bed. He has everything. Genes like that deserve to be passed on.] [Please, Seraphina Rowe is an international supermodel. Can you imagine how perfect their kid would be?] Through the long lens of a paparazzi camera, Caspian made no effort to hide as he pressed the woman against the floor-to-ceiling window. His large hands were strategically placed, cupping her private areas, his movements powerful yet tender. Below, on the street, a crowd of onlookers and photographers grew, their cameras flashing until night fell. [Damn, three hours, four rounds. Caspian Hamblett is a god.] [Seraphina must be in heaven.] For me, those three hours were an eternity of torture. I watched the man who had promised to love me for a lifetime tear off his mask for the world to see, losing himself in another woman. I remembered a year ago, after a full year of trying for a baby with no success, when his parents pressured us into getting checked. The results came back. The doctor told me the problem was Caspian. To protect his pride, his fragile male ego, I begged the doctor to keep it a secret. I told everyone the problem was me. That I was the one who couldn’t conceive. That night, his mother laid out dozens of photos in front of him. “The Hamblett family empire is enormous. We can’t let it die without an heir.” “This one is from Harvard, high IQ. This one is a professor at Juilliard, artistic, from a family of intellectuals…” Right in front of me, Caspian swept the photos into the trash can. “Mom, forget it. I only love Elara.” “I can’t separate my body from my heart.” His mother tried everything to force us apart—tears, tantrums, threats. But he just held my hand tighter and we moved out of the Hamblett mansion. He even threatened to publicly disown his family. “You two can have more kids if you want,” he’d told his parents. “That way you won’t have to worry about the Hamblett legacy.” “Elara and I are going to live a happy, carefree life, just the two of us.” The conviction in his eyes back then was absolute. I truly believed we would love each other for the rest of our lives. But now… Tears blurred my vision. I rested a hand on my stomach, on the precious new life I was carrying, and sent Caspian a text. [Are you sure you don’t want to know what your surprise is?] I stared at my phone, praying for a reply. If he would just apologize, even with a pathetic excuse like he’d lost his head for a moment, I would keep our child. I would give him one more chance. But the only reply I received was a city-wide firework display, lighting up the night sky with a message for everyone to see: [To Seraphina Rowe’s first love, Mr. Hamblett. It began with you, it will be true to you, and it will end with you. I love you~] [Happy Birthday. Here’s to many more with me.] The fireworks spelled out the words, one by one, for a full thirty minutes. Their grand romantic gesture was trending again. They were on a yacht on the Hudson, having a candlelit dinner. [I heard Caspian bought that yacht for her. It’s their private love boat now.] [Wow, so romantic. I can only imagine what happens on that thing~] My heart shattered, piece by piece. Today wasn’t just his twenty-eighth birthday. It was our tenth anniversary. We were eighteen when we got into the same university. One kiss, and we were inseparable. Now, he had clearly forgotten all about the woman waiting at home to celebrate with him. I sat at the dining table for five hours, watching the food grow cold and the cake I’d baked collapse in on itself. Finally, my phone buzzed. It was from Seraphina. [Caspian and I had a wild night. He just fell asleep.] [If you want to know what happened, it’s all online. Need me to send you a highlight reel?] A flood of video files came through, eating up nearly twenty gigabytes of my phone’s memory. [Here’s the whole thing. Enjoy the show, honey.] [Okay, I’m exhausted. Going to cuddle with your husband now. Bye.] The last message was a photo of Caspian asleep. His brow was furrowed with fatigue, but a sweet, satisfied smile played on his lips. A wave of nausea washed over me. I ran to the bathroom and dry-heaved over the toilet. The baby kicked restlessly inside me. I bit my lip until I tasted blood as tears streamed down my face. “I’m sorry, little one,” I whispered. “It’s not that I don’t want you. It’s that I can’t have you.” I wanted so badly to give our child a happy home. But I couldn’t. Not anymore. I couldn’t pretend nothing had happened and continue to share a bed with Caspian. After I was done being sick, I pulled myself up from the floor. I started packing a bag, my mind set on going to the hospital for an abortion. Just then, there was a knock at the door. It was Alfred, his parents’ driver. “Ma’am, Mrs. Hamblett would like to see you.” I went with him. His mother slid a divorce agreement across the table. “I’m sure you’re aware of what happened yesterday.” “Caspian has been carrying on with that woman in public, for the whole city to see. He’s made it perfectly clear he’s ready for a divorce.” “You need to accept the fact that he doesn’t love you anymore. Sign the papers. Don’t hold him back.” After a sleepless night, I had already steeled myself to end our ten-year relationship. To lose his child. To divorce him. I just hadn’t expected the Hamblett family to be in such a hurry to throw me out. I picked up the agreement with a bitter taste in my mouth. The terms were simple: I would leave with nothing. I laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. I pushed the papers back. “I’ll agree to a divorce. But I’m not signing this.” “Caspian’s affair is public knowledge. I want a seventy-thirty split of the assets.” “Seventy for me, thirty for him.” His mother slammed her hand on the table. “How dare you!” “In all the years you’ve been married into this family, you haven’t produced a single heir.” “Marrying Caspian elevated you, a girl from a bankrupt family, to a status and respect you never deserved.” “And now you have the audacity to demand money? You should be compensating us!” The absurdity of it all was suffocating. “Has it ever occurred to you that the reason I can’t have a baby is because your son is the one who’s broken?” SLAP. The force of the blow sent a ringing through my ears. She threw a debit card at my face. “Don’t you dare spew such nonsense.” “Your youth was worth about five hundred dollars.” “Take it, and get out of my house.” Just then, the door opened. Caspian walked in, holding Seraphina’s hand. He flinched when he saw me, a flicker of guilt in his eyes. He tried to pull his hand away, but Seraphina gripped it tighter, linking her arm through his. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Mrs. Hamblett,” Seraphina cooed. “Caspian and I were up so late last night, we overslept a little.” She pulled a sapphire necklace and an envelope from her purse. “This is for you. It was the grand prize from the modeling competition. A royal blue sapphire. The moment I saw it, I thought of you.” His mother’s eyes lit up. “This is a priceless piece, almost impossible to find at auction now. And you’re just giving it to me?” Seraphina nodded. “Of course. You’re Caspian’s mother. You raised this incredible man. I don’t know how else to thank you.” His mother beamed. “You are too thoughtful, my dear. It seems our Caspian has finally opened his eyes.” “I didn’t have time to prepare a proper gift for you, but please, take this.” She handed Seraphina a black credit card. “It has a five-million-dollar monthly limit. Spend it as you wish. I know you models have to maintain a certain image.” Seraphina hugged her sweetly. “Thank you so much! I’m opening the fashion show tomorrow. You have to come!” A bitter pang shot through my heart. In all my years with Caspian, I had never been treated with such warmth. I grabbed my bag to leave, but Caspian stopped me. “Stay for dinner.” I shook him off. “No, thank you. Let’s get a divorce.” “I’ll meet you at the city clerk’s office tomorrow at nine.” His brow furrowed with impatience. “Yes, I’m with Seraphina now. But she doesn’t mind you being around. You can keep your title as Mrs. Hamblett.” He leaned in, his voice low. “You need to remember, you have no one but me now.” “Throwing a tantrum and demanding a divorce won’t do you any good.” He was right. I had no one else. Ever since my parents died in a car crash that was meant for him, a deliberate act of sabotage, I had clung to him like he was life itself. He was the only one left who would be good to me. And now, this blatant betrayal. If I had known this would happen, I would have stayed away from him ten years ago. Then my parents would still be alive. Seraphina approached me with a bright, false smile, as if just noticing me. “Oh, Elara, you’re here! I actually had a little favor to ask you.” “Listen to Caspian. Stay for dinner.” I took a step back. “No.” Caspian’s face darkened. “Elara, don’t take your anger out on Seraphina.” “She’s sincerely asking for your help, not for your cold shoulder.” He shoved me into a dining chair. Seraphina poured me a glass of red wine. “The jewelry I was planning to wear for the show tomorrow has gone missing.” “This is a special exhibition. The pieces need to have a story. The other models are wearing family heirlooms or purchased antiques. I can’t find a suitable replacement on such short notice.” “So, I was hoping to borrow yours.” Her eyes were fixed on the necklace I was wearing. “With the story behind it, your necklace would be the talk of the show.” Her earnest expression was a mask for raw provocation. My heart seized. I instinctively covered the necklace with my hand. I had taken it from my mother’s body. I remember that day with sickening clarity. A massive truck plowing straight into my parents’ car. Their multi-million dollar Rolls-Royce, crushed like a tin can. Blood pooling on the asphalt. It was the darkest day of my life. I knelt before their mangled bodies, my screams tearing through the air, and salvaged the broken half of the necklace from my mother’s neck. It was the only thing I had left of her. And now, Seraphina wanted to use my tragedy as a prop for her career. “Never. My pain is not a tool for your publicity.” Caspian glanced at her, then at me. “Let it go, Seraphina. That was her mother’s.” Tears welled in Seraphina’s eyes, her hand, holding a wine glass, frozen in mid-air. “I just wanted to borrow it,” she choked out. “It’s not like I wasn’t going to give it back.” “Caspian, you know how important this show is to me. I’m on the verge of breaking into the international market.” As her tears fell, Caspian’s expression softened, his brief sternness melting into concern. “Elara, maybe you could just…” “Impossible,” I cut him off. I stood to leave, but Seraphina grabbed my arm. “Please, Elara. I’m begging you.” “I really don’t have time to find anything else. If you’re angry at me because of Caspian, you can hit me, you can yell at me, whatever you want.” I tried to pull away. “Let go of me.” She stumbled backward and fell to the floor, the red wine staining her dress like a fresh wound. Caspian rushed to her side, his face a mask of fury. “That’s enough, Elara.” “Your parents are dead. They’re gone. What’s the point of clinging to a necklace? You’d be better off visiting their graves.” He reached over and ripped the necklace from my neck. “Seraphina is borrowing it. Stop making a scene.” He scooped her up into his arms. “Mom, this woman has ruined dinner.” “I’m taking Seraphina to change. We’ll see you at the show tomorrow.” He carried her out the door. I stumbled after them, my voice raw. “Caspian, that belonged to my mother! You can’t!” “Give it back to me!” He settled Seraphina into the car, then turned to me, his face flushed with anger. “Maybe I’ve been too good to you, Elara. Is that why you feel like you can treat Seraphina this way?” “All she did was ask to borrow something.” He had forgotten. That crash was orchestrated by one of his family’s enemies. They thought he was in the car that day. My parents had died for him. I remember him kneeling at their memorial, sobbing, swearing an oath. “Mom, Dad, don’t worry. I’ll take care of Elara for the rest of my life. I’ll love her and protect her.” “I’ll never let anyone hurt her. I’ll never let something like this happen to her.” All those promises were now dust. A man’s heart changes so easily. For his new love, he could steal my most precious memory. Disappointment was etched across his face. He slammed his foot on the gas, the car screeching away, leaving me standing alone in the road. I didn’t care. I scrambled to my feet and ran after him. At an intersection, there was a deafening screech of tires and a sickening crunch. The next thing I knew, I was flying through the air, thrown several meters by the impact of a car. Blood poured from my nose and mouth. My clothes were soaked with it, a sticky, warm wetness spreading from beneath me. I tried to move, but my body was a dead weight. Through a hazy fog, I heard the wail of a siren. “Quick, call Mr. Hamblett!” “She’s losing too much blood. The baby’s gone. We have to focus on saving her.” “If we lose her, Mr. Hamblett will tear this hospital apart!” A doctor’s voice, choked with tears, "Director, he’s not answering." “Then use her phone.” They fished my phone from my pocket. The screen was shattered but somehow still worked. A few seconds after they dialed, he picked up. “It’s the middle of the night, Elara. What do you want now?” The paramedic spoke quickly. “Mr. Hamblett, this is City General Hospital. Your wife—” A cold laugh cut him off. “Is Elara being dramatic again? Did she hire actors to try and guilt me into coming home?” “Seraphina has a huge show tomorrow. She’s nervous and needs me with her.” “I’ll come home after it’s over.” “And don’t worry, I’ll bring your necklace back with me.” “No, sir, you don’t understand,” the paramedic insisted. “Your wife has been in a serious car accident.” “She’s in critical condition.” “And she’s miscarried. You need to get to the hospital.” Caspian’s voice was laced with annoyance. “She can’t get pregnant, so how could she have a miscarriage?” “I told you, I’m busy tonight. Tell her to stop acting like a child.” Click. The line went dead. Caspian’s eyelid twitched all night. It was still twitching the next day. A knot of anxiety tightened in his gut. After the fashion show, he hurriedly dismissed the reporters. As he was heading to his car, a man stopped him. “Mr. Hamblett? Miss Elara asked me to give this to you.” In front of all the flashing cameras, the man handed Caspian a small, ornate wooden box. The media swarmed, their lenses focused tightly on it as he lifted the lid.
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