At our ring exchange, the ballroom screen flickered to life—showing me bound and violated, not our smiling faces. Julian dropped my hand like poison, sliding the ring onto my best friend’s finger instead. As I stumbled from the red carpet, Dante—her brother, the syndicate boss—caught me. A gunshot silenced the hall. Then, ten chests of gold arrived as his bride price, and he proposed on the spot. Three years later, IVF succeeded. But overhearing Dante’s conversation shattered me: "Leaking Anya’s video let Peaches marry into the Sterling family. Her womb was just a vessel for Peaches’ heir." I dialed his rival, voice steel-cold: "A billion-dollar deal. Interested?" 1 The vile banter inside the room continued. “You’re a clever one, Boss. Swapping her prenatal vitamins with abortion pills so she couldn’t conceive naturally… forcing her into IVF. She’d probably die of rage if she knew you’d already switched the embryo with one from Peaches and Julian.” “Whether she lives or dies is none of my concern,” Dante’s voice was casual. “After the birth, I’ll just make up some excuse, say the baby didn’t make it. She’ll just blame herself for not being able to carry it to term. It’s her honor to pave the way for Peaches’ happiness.” He tossed the lighter onto the table and stood up, his voice a low warning to everyone in the room. “Not a single word of what was said today leaves this room. I need her to deliver this baby without any complications.” I heard his man, a brute named Marco, slap his chest and laugh. “Don’t worry, Boss. That woman is dumb as a rock. We call her ‘Mrs. Dante’ and she actually thinks she’s the queen of this castle. She brings us food and drinks every day, completely clueless that I was the one who hand-picked the guys for that video.” Someone else roared with laughter. “Marco, you’re too much! Why didn’t you pick me back then? I would’ve loved a taste…” A fruit knife flew through the air, embedding itself in the floorboards right between the man’s legs. He went pale with terror. “Have I not made myself clear?” Dante’s voice was a low growl. “Anya is my wife now. Anyone who dares to bring that up again, I will personally end him.” A younger subordinate mumbled, “Boss, it seems like you’re not entirely indifferent to her. She’s head over heels in love with you. Aren’t you afraid she’ll leave you when she finds out the truth?” Dante scoffed. “So what? I’ll just knock her up again. Support her for the rest of her life. She’s a tainted, love-sick fool. A few sweet words and she’ll be licking my hand like a dog.” The room erupted in laughter again. I stood frozen in the hallway, feeling as if I’d been struck by lightning. I clamped my hand over my mouth, choking back sobs that threatened to escape. Footsteps approached the door. I spun around and fled downstairs, pouring myself a glass of the strongest whiskey and downing it in one go. The burn was searing, a fire racing to my head, and the tears I’d been holding back finally broke free. I clutched my chest, the poison of their words echoing in my mind. A week before my original wedding, I was kidnapped and endured a living hell for a day and a night. My then-fiancé, Julian, had held my hand, swearing he still loved me and wanted to marry me. But at the altar, he’d watched that video play and abandoned me, leaving me to be branded a whore by the world. It was Dante who had stormed in, shooting the screen to pieces, pulling me into his arms, and fiercely shielding me from the jeers and insults. He’d presented me with ten chests of gold, telling me he had loved me for years and would die without regret if he could not have me as his wife. His unwavering gaze had conquered me. And now, he was telling me it was all for Peaches. No wonder Peaches had looked at me with that strange, knowing smile on my wedding day to Dante. I was kidnapped because she had called me, claiming her car broke down and asking me to pick her up. She knew all along. It was all a setup. She was mocking my stupidity, reveling in the fact that she had a man who would do anything for her. And the three years of care and affection from Dante? A charade. A performance to squeeze every last bit of usefulness out of me. I had mistaken my executioner for my savior. How utterly laughable. My nails dug into my palms. I bit down, hard, the pain and hatred churning in my chest, the tears unstoppable. A familiar scent enveloped me. Dante was kissing the corner of my eye, his brow furrowed in what looked like concern. He roared at the room, “Which one of you sons of bitches made my wife cry? I’ll fucking kill him.” The hall fell silent, everyone holding their breath. He pulled a gun from his waistband and pressed it into my hand, wrapping his arms around me and guiding my hand to aim at the crowd. “Baby, you see anyone you don’t like, you just pull the trigger. I’ve got your back.” The men he aimed at trembled like leaves, but none dared to move. In this country, Dante was the king of one of the two largest syndicates. No one crossed him. I stopped when the barrel was pointed at Marco. Marco’s eyes widened, his face white with fear. The words ‘I was the one who hand-picked the guys for that video’ screamed in my ears like a curse. My chest heaved. My eyes were red with fury. I was about to squeeze the trigger when Dante pushed the gun down. 2 “Sweetheart, the doctor said the IVF was a success. Let’s not see any blood. We don’t want to scare the baby.” His voice was a gentle coax, his eyes filled with a concern so convincing I almost applauded his performance. Sensing my mood, Dante noticed the empty glass in front of me. He took my hand. “Honey, how long have you been here? Why didn’t you come upstairs to find me?” His words were laced with a careful, probing caution. I looked down. “You men were talking business upstairs. It was all smoke and noise. I didn't feel like it.” He let out a breath of relief and stroked my head, ordering a maid to bring me a sobering tea. The moment she handed it over, he raised his gun and shot her in the head. I didn’t even have time to react. Thick, warm blood splattered across my face. The maid’s hand was still outstretched, her eyes wide in disbelief as she collapsed. My lips trembled. My stomach seized violently. Dante acted as if nothing had happened. He holstered his gun, carefully wiped my face with his sleeve, and then held the cup of tea to my lips, feeding me sip by sip. I swallowed mechanically, my entire body shaking. In my peripheral vision, I saw Marco’s men drag the maid’s body away, leaving a long, winding trail of blood on the polished floor. “Couldn’t even watch my wife to make sure she didn’t drink,” Dante muttered, his voice cold. “That’s a threat to my son. She didn't deserve to live.” I stared at his ruthless face, my stomach churning. He touched my cheek, his voice softening again. “It’s all my fault, baby. I’ve made you suffer so much. Now that we finally have our baby, you can’t touch alcohol again, understand?” He added, “No matter what, this child has to be born healthy. You know that, right?” I took several deep breaths before managing a dry, brittle, “Okay.” My heart was frozen solid. In three years of marriage, I had been pregnant six times. Each time, I miscarried for no apparent reason, eventually leading to recurrent pregnancy loss. Six months ago, the doctors told me I could never conceive again. Dante had held me, heartbroken, telling me he didn’t care about children, that all he wanted was my happiness and health. The guilt of not being able to give him a child had eaten away at me. After extensive research, I chose the arduous path of IVF. My stomach became a pincushion, and I swallowed handfuls of hormone pills. All that suffering, only to be a surrogate for Peaches. Because she was afraid of pain, I was to be stripped of my right to be a mother, reduced to a breeding machine. “What’s wrong? You look so pale. Are you not feeling well? I’ll get the doctor right now.” “I’m fine. Just some morning sickness.” Dante’s eyes reddened with feigned sympathy. He stroked my face. “My poor wife, you’re going through so much. I wish I could bear this for you. We rushed our wedding… I’ve ordered you a custom-made wedding gown, your favorite designer. Let's go try it on tomorrow before your belly gets too big.” I stared at him, at his deeply affectionate eyes, playing me for a fool, time and time again. If he knew I had no intention of carrying this child to term, my fate would be the same as that maid’s. I forced a smile. “I’m going to go rest. You guys carry on.” The moment I was back in our room, I ran to the bathroom and retched until my stomach was a knot of pure agony. Tears streamed down my face, the physical pain a fraction of the agony in my heart. After a long while, I pulled myself together. That's when I saw it—Dante’s phone, left forgotten on the coffee table. On impulse, I picked it up. I only had to try once. Peaches’ birthday. It unlocked. The screen lit up with a photo of Peaches, leaning against his shoulder, her smile radiant. I scrolled through his photo gallery. Over five thousand photos, and Peaches was in every single one. He had them organized into four folders, chronicling different periods of her life. Each folder was labeled with a single word. Together, they spelled out: My Only Love. In their chat history, I saw that Dante had once risked his life to steal a royal crown for her. I suddenly remembered that night. He’d come back with two bullet wounds, barely clinging to life. It was I who had traded my mother’s only heirloom, a priceless antique amulet, to the royal family to get him back. And why? Because Peaches had casually mentioned she wanted to feel like a queen for her 25th birthday party. A tear fell onto the screen. My heart felt like it was being shredded. It wasn’t the pain of years of deception. It was that for this monster who had destroyed me, I had given away the only thing my mother had left me. Through blurry eyes, my gaze fell on the crescent-moon-shaped birthmark on Peaches’ right shoulder. My own eyes widened in shock. I have the exact same birthmark, in the exact same spot. I remembered when I first met Peaches, she didn't have it. It was only after I told her about the time I’d saved a man covered in blood while working as a doctor without borders in a war-torn country that she started to distance herself from me. Soon after, she became Dante’s "adopted sister," and he began telling everyone that Peaches had saved his life. But Peaches was a coward, terrified of hardship. She had never set foot in that country; in fact, she openly despised it. My cold fingers curled into fists. A wild, horrifying suspicion began to form in my mind. So that’s how it was. I collapsed to the floor, caught between hysterical sobs and bitter laughter. 3 A long time later, I wiped my tears, composed myself, and found the number I was looking for. “I have a business proposition for you,” I said. “Worth a billion dollars. Interested?” “What kind of business?” “In three days, I need you to kidnap me.” I gently stroked my stomach. “It’s a ransom Dante will be more than willing to pay.” Just as I hung up, Dante walked in. He was drunk, stumbling slightly, but his senses were still sharp enough to grab my hand. “What am I willing to pay for?” Without batting an eye, I replied, “I saw a necklace I liked. They said I need to put down a deposit.” He laughed, his head slumping onto my shoulder. “Fine, I’ll pay. I’ll pay for everything, Peaches. Whatever you want, big brother will get it for you. I’m yours too.” My face remained a mask. I helped him to bed, covered him up, and lay beside him, wide awake, for the rest of the night. The next day, on our way to the bridal salon, Dante took a call. His expression turned frantic. “Honey, a shipment got held up. I have to go deal with it.” He squeezed my hand, his voice full of apology. “I’m so sorry. I promise, I’ll take you to try on the dress tomorrow. I also ordered us a set of matching rings, ‘One Life, One Love.’ We can try them on together tomorrow, okay?” I pulled my hand away. “I understand. Go on. I’ll be a good girl and wait for you at home.” He squeezed my hand again, and the moment I stepped out of the car, he sped off. Less than ten minutes later, Marco’s car pulled up. As soon as I got in, a photo popped up on my phone. It was Peaches, wearing a stunning diamond ring and the very custom-made gown I had picked out, kneeling on a man’s lap. The man’s hand was on her thigh, visible through the sheer fabric. His lips were kissing the crescent birthmark on her right shoulder, his eyes smoldering with lust. A voice message followed. “I can only get it up at night if I close my eyes and pretend she’s you, Peaches. My sweet Peaches. Big brother misses you so much. Take care of your big brother, won’t you?” The husky voice was followed by a ragged, suppressed gasp. In the silent car, Marco’s sneer broke the quiet. I was startled, only then realizing the scenery outside wasn't the way home. “Marco, I’m Dante’s wife! What do you think you’re doing?” The car screeched to a halt. I immediately tried to open the door on the other side, but he was faster. He lunged across the seat, grabbed my ankle, and dragged me out of the car. Pain exploded behind my eyes. I gritted my teeth and glared at him. “I’m carrying Dante’s child. If anything happens to me, you won’t live to see another day.” “You idiot,” a shrill laugh came from behind me. I realized we were in a deserted alley not far from the bridal shop. Peaches was standing there, her heel grinding into my face, her eyes filled with triumphant glee. “Did you really think my brother would let a filthy woman like you carry his child?” Marco came over, wrapped his arm around her waist, and squeezed. To my utter shock, they kissed passionately. After a long moment, Marco slowly spoke, “You overheard us at the club the other day, didn’t you? Too bad for you, the embryo in your belly isn’t Peaches’ either. I just grabbed a random one from some homeless beggar in the slums and had it swapped.” I snapped my head up, my pupils trembling. Peaches laughed until she was breathless. “Oh, look at you now. Filthy inside and out. A bastard’s baby and a whore for a mother. Anya, what’s the difference between you and a prostitute? At least they get paid. You’re actually paying to carry a bastard.” She cackled. “Is one enough? Or should we stuff a whole litter in you? Like a pig, hahaha.” My mind roared. A thick, metallic taste filled my throat. I screamed, grabbing a rock from the ground, wanting nothing more than to smash their faces in. Marco kicked me in the stomach. I fell forward, vomiting a mouthful of blood, my face pale with agony. But just then, Peaches suddenly stumbled backward in mock terror, theatrically falling to the ground. She didn't even have a scratch on her, but Dante, who came running at that exact moment, stepped right over my hand to rush to her side. He pulled her into his arms, his eyes filled with raw panic. “Peaches, what happened? Are you hurt?”
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