I woke from the haze of anesthesia, a dull ache in my side from the appendectomy, to a far sharper pain: the emptiness in my womb. My baby was gone. Zoe, Sebastian’s childhood friend, was giggling beside my bed. “Hey, Cass,” she chirped, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “I took care of that little problem in your belly for you. You’re welcome.” I saw red. I grabbed my phone and called the police, reporting her to the state medical board, my voice shaking with rage. But before anything could happen, Sebastian burst in, rushing straight from his office. He swept Zoe into his arms, shielding her as if I were the threat. “That’s enough,” he snapped at me. “She was just messing with you. If the kid’s gone, it’s gone.” His voice was cold, dismissive. “You’re going to ruin her career over a joke?” Every complaint I made was intercepted and buried. Three days later, I was readmitted to the hospital with a raging infection. The cause? A used condom they found inside me. Zoe pouted, the picture of innocence. “Oops. I guess I must have forgotten to take it out during the procedure. But hey, you’re fine, right?” Sebastian’s voice was a low warning. “Stop it, Cassandra. Zoe is just starting her residency. Don’t be so hard on her.” 1 Staring at Zoe’s triumphant smirk from behind Sebastian’s shoulder, a bitter irony choked me. My heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise, stealing the air from my lungs. “A condom in the operating room? How does that happen? She did this on purpose!” I pleaded, my voice cracking. “Sebastian, don’t you understand? That baby was—” He cut me off, his patience already gone. His brow furrowed, his disgust for me plain on his face. “She’s always been a little wild. Can’t you just cut her some slack?” “It’s better that the baby is gone anyway,” he continued, his words like shards of ice. “She only did it because she was afraid people would laugh at me. Drop it, Cassandra. My patience has a limit.” He fixed me with a look so cold it chilled me to the bone. Three months ago, Zoe and I were kidnapped together by one of his business rivals. Sebastian came alone, a hero storming the gates. But he only saved Zoe. I was left behind in that abandoned factory. The police didn’t find me for three days. When they did, Sebastian held me, his voice thick with guilt. “I’m so sorry, Cass. Zoe… she was kidnapped as a child. I couldn’t let her go through that again. The trauma would have broken her.” Later, when I found out I was pregnant, he refused to believe the child was his. I threw the paternity test results in his face. He didn’t even glance at them, just rubbed his temples with a look of weary resignation. “It doesn’t matter whose baby it is. I’ll raise it as my own. You don’t have to bribe a doctor and fake these results to convince me.” His voice dropped lower. “Zoe told me everything… what you did to survive in there, seducing those men. I don’t blame you, Cass… but can we please just never speak of this again?” I screamed, I cried, I dragged Zoe in front of him and called her a liar. But Sebastian wouldn’t believe me. He accused me of trying to humiliate her. A wave of nausea and grief rose in my throat. I looked at him, really looked at him, one last time. “That baby was yours, Sebastian. I wouldn’t joke about something like that.” For a flicker of a second, he hesitated. “The baby…” he began, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. But Zoe seized the moment. She dropped to her knees before me, bowing her head in a frantic, desperate display of remorse. “You’re right, Cass, I’m a liar! Just say I’m a liar, as long as you and Seb can be happy together.” She looked up at him, her eyes wide and pleading. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have taken matters into my own hands.” Then, turning her tear-streaked face to Sebastian, she sobbed, “Seb, it was me. I lied to you. Nothing happened to Cass in that factory. Those men never touched her. It’s all my fault. Please, you two, don't fight because of me…” “I’ll quit my job. I’ll turn myself in. I’ll go to jail…” She put on a masterful performance, but not a single tear fell. It was enough for Sebastian. He was completely undone. He scooped her up into his arms, cradling her like she was the most precious thing in the world. “This has nothing to do with you,” he murmured, stroking her hair. “You’ve been in surgery for hours. You’re exhausted. Let me take you home.” “Don’t worry,” he whispered, his voice full of a tenderness he hadn’t shown me in months. “I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Then, he turned his gaze back to me, and it was glacial. “Enough of this, Cassandra. Are you trying to weaponize Zoe’s guilt? Trying to pressure me by pinning this baby on me?” he snarled. “I don’t care if it wasn’t mine, and even if it was, it’s gone now. So it’s over.” “You push this any further,” he warned, his voice a deadly whisper, “and I will teach you a lesson in obedience myself.” He walked away with Zoe in his arms and never looked back. I stood there, frozen, as a deep, unshakable chill seeped into my bones, making my whole body tremble. We had been together for seven years. He had always showered me with affection, given me anything I wanted. But ever since Zoe returned from overseas, it was like she had methodically replaced me, piece by piece. My word meant nothing. My pain meant nothing. Fresh from surgery, abandoned and standing in a hospital corridor, I was worth less than one of Zoe’s fake tears. This was the eighteenth time he had chosen her over me. I was done being the one who had to bend. I was done making myself small. The last of the anesthetic wore off, and my legs gave out. I collapsed onto the cold linoleum floor. Gritting my teeth against the pain, I pulled out my phone and dialed my father’s number. “Dad,” I said, my voice low and steady. “I need some of your men.” “Tonight. And I need two doctors.” If Sebastian wouldn’t deal with Zoe, then I would deal with them both. My way. 2 That night, with the resources my father provided, I leaked all the evidence of Zoe’s malpractice onto the internet. Sebastian could pull strings with the hospital board, but he couldn’t control the tidal wave of public opinion. I was lying in my new private room when the door was kicked open. Zoe stormed in, her face a mask of fury. “Cassandra, you bitch! What the hell did you post online?!” With Sebastian gone, her sweet facade had vanished completely. I gave a subtle nod to the men standing guard behind me. My father’s people were efficient and sharp; a single look was all they needed. In seconds, they had Zoe restrained, her arms pinned behind her back. But there was no panic in her eyes. She looked at me with smug confidence, a defiant smirk playing on her lips. “What’s this, Cassandra? Putting on a big show? You don’t have the guts to touch me.” “You lay a single finger on me today, and I’ll have Sebastian divorce you tomorrow.” Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Did you really think you won his heart? If his grandfather hadn’t been so dead-set against us, you never would have married into the Blackwood family. You were just a pawn, Cass. A way for him to declare war on the old man. You really think he loves you?” The blood drained from my face. My heart stuttered, each beat a sharp, tearing pain. It was true. When Sebastian and I first got together, his grandfather had been my biggest obstacle. Sebastian, who had always been the dutiful grandson, started publicly defying him, bringing me to every event. It was an open declaration of war. I had asked him once if he regretted it. His expression was complicated, filled with an emotion I couldn't decipher. It was like he was looking through me, at someone else entirely. He sighed, then gently stroked my hair. “Cass,” he said softly, “I just… I don’t want to have any more regrets. So this time, I’m going to protect you.” I was so lost in love back then that I never questioned the "more" in his sentence. I never realized what he meant by "this time." He wasn't protecting me. He was re-living a battle he'd lost before. On me, he was making up for the regret of letting Zoe go all those years ago. A wave of violent nausea churned in my stomach, threatening to erupt. Seeing my face turn ashen, Zoe’s eyes lit up with malicious glee. “Get the hint and get out of the picture. I’ve seen women like you before, gold-diggers clinging to what they can’t have. Why do you think Sebastian let me get rid of your baby? Don’t you get it? A trashy woman like you isn't worthy of carrying his child.” She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a hiss. “And by the way, you should thank me. When you were kidnapped, Sebastian was perfectly fine leaving you there to die. If I hadn't been worried about a murder charge and pushed him to call the police, you’d still be rotting in that factory.” Her last words incinerated the last shred of my composure. An endless, searing hatred erupted inside me, a wildfire consuming everything in its path. I dug my nails into my palms, the sharp pain a momentary anchor to reality. “I will give you exactly what you want,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “But that child was innocent. You picked the wrong person to mess with, Zoe.” I rose from the bed and walked slowly toward her. I grabbed her chin, my fingers digging into her skin. “Since this mouth of yours loves to run, let’s sew it shut.” Zoe’s arrogance finally shattered. Panic flared in her eyes. She began to struggle violently. “You wouldn’t dare! You’re nothing but an orphan! Sebastian will destroy you for this!” I laughed, a cold, hollow sound. “That’s right. I’m an orphan. Does that mean I’m supposed to just let you walk all over me?” After my father cheated on my mother, I decided she was the only family I had. When she passed, I was truly alone. My father was a terrible husband, but he retained a sliver of paternal instinct. When I started dating Sebastian, he called me secretly, offering to use his influence to smooth things over with the Blackwood patriarch. I refused. Ironic that now, in the end, I had to rely on his power after all. I was done talking. The two doctors my father sent stepped forward. One threaded a needle. Crimson bloomed on Zoe’s white dress as the needle pierced her lip. Her agonized screams devolved into muffled, desperate whimpers. I had my men lock her in an empty operating room. “You spent four hours on my ‘surgery,’” I told her through the door. “I’m giving you double.” “Crank the AC down to freezing. Don’t let her out until eight hours have passed.”
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