The doctor restrained me and administered a sedative before I could say a word. Darkness enveloped me swiftly, leaving no time for questions.

When I stirred awake, Matheo was at my side, his face alight with joy.

"Livia, the operation was a success!" he declared. "Our baby can finally have a chance at a normal life like other children!"

His excitement was evident, yet his smile was a dagger to my soul.

"Once Kori pulls through the critical stage, we can bring him home!" he added enthusiastically.

Holding his hand tightly, I nervously asked, "And what happened to the other child?"

Matheo's expression faltered as he acknowledged my reference to the child swapped with Stephanie Marshall's. He looked down, wiping imaginary dust from his knee, and spoke softly, "That child wasn't as lucky. He didn't survive the bone marrow extraction and passed away on the operating table."

His words were as casual as a whisper, trivializing the loss of a child's life with scarcely a pause. The pain in my heart twisted into a tighter knot.

Only then did the full gravity of the situation hit me. Matheo had knowingly ordered the doctor to sedate me, ensuring the donation surgery proceeded without my awareness.

Unaware of my inner turmoil, he proceeded to hand me our child's birth certificate. The name section was unmistakably marked, "Kori Marshall."

Seeing that name, I chuckled bitterly. Not only had he chosen our baby's name without my input, but he also seamlessly intertwined his affection for Stephanie into it. "Kori" was a reflection of his longing for "Stephanie."

Still basking in the thrill of their child having a name, Matheo declared, "Livia, our family's legacy lives on."

The image of their child growing up enveloped in love, while my own was forever frozen in time, pierced my heart like a blade.

After Matheo left, I unlocked my phone and logged into my alternate account. Only then did I check Matheo’s updates and realized that ever since Stephanie became pregnant, he had been using the excuse of working late to spend time with her every week. He never missed a single appointment for her prenatal checkups. Even when both Stephanie and I were due at the same time, he stayed by her side.

I'll never forget the moment I was in labor, fear coursing through me, and I reached out to hold his hand. But he pulled away, his voice cold and urgent. “Nina is about to give birth too. She’s more nervous and not as strong as you. I have to be with her.”

In my pain-clouded daze, I could only watch Matheo's determined figure walk away. It turns out that when someone doesn’t love you, they don’t even try to pretend.

Then came the day of my discharge. I waited from morning until noon, only to be met by Matheo’s assistant, Caden.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. Mr. Washington wanted me to let you know that Miss Stephanie is grieving the loss of her child. He took her and the baby back to the old family home first,” he informed me. “He specifically instructed me to pick you up and bring you home.”

Standing there in the biting wind, I shivered as if my heart was caught in a vise, unable to breathe. Just five minutes earlier, Stephanie had updated her status on Facebook. The video showed Matheo driving, focused on the road, while Stephanie cradled the baby in the passenger seat, her face lit with a sweet smile.

“Daddy’s taking us home,” read the caption.

Amid the flood of congratulatory comments, I even spotted a message from my own parents. “What a sweet grandchild, looks just like Nina when she was little.”

I turned off my phone, unwilling to see more. This place held nothing worth remembering for me. It was time to end this absurd love triangle once and for all.

I returned to the Williamsburg estate with a steely look on my face.

As soon as I walked through the door, I saw Matheo and Stephanie relaxing on the couch, playing with the baby nestled in their arms. They seemed every bit the perfect family, while I was nothing more than a burden Matheo had felt obligated to bring back out of pity.

Upon my entrance, Stephanie barely glanced in my direction.

"Oh, look, my sister is back," she said casually. "Matheo, you must be forgetful, giving me all your attention while Livia returns alone."

Her face showed no trace of sorrow for her lost child as she reprimanded Matheo.

Ignoring them, I headed upstairs. I had barely made it halfway when I heard Matheo's grandmother's voice hurling curses at me from behind.

"Ungrateful wretch! If she hadn't disregarded the doctor's advice while pregnant, my precious great-grandson wouldn't have suffered like this. Stephanie's generosity in donating her own child's bone marrow saved my great-grandson. I wouldn't have let her get away with it."

Then she turned to Stephanie, sliding the silver bracelet off her wrist and onto Stephanie's. I remembered Matheo saying that this bracelet was the sign of the Williamsburg family's acceptance of their future daughter-in-law. Despite my marriage to Matheo, Gabriela had never acknowledged me as her granddaughter-in-law.

Not only did she give Stephanie the family heirloom, but she also cleared out the brightest room on the second floor for Stephanie’s recovery, while I was relegated to a makeshift guest room.

The household staff, following the lead of those they served, tossed my backpack into the room with dismissive disdain and departed without a backward glance.

"Who does she think she’s kidding with that pitiful act? Still calling herself Mrs. Williamsburg, with her shabby clothes and inability to keep her husband. Matheo and Miss Marshall are such a better match," I overheard them whispering as they left.

"When she jumped into his bed, she should have known there'd be a day like this. Her child probably had congenital issues because of all the wrongs she did."

"The old lady is already too kind by letting her stay. If it were me, I'd have kicked her out long ago."

I blocked out their words and focused on packing my belongings. There was no reason to stay; I'd have no allies within the Williamsburg family after what had happened. My strength was still drained from the recent childbirth, leaving me no match for those who worked hard every day.

Once my things were packed, I drafted a divorce agreement, intending to find Matheo to get his signature.

As I approached the master bedroom door, unmistakable sounds from inside made my blood run cold.

Inside, I saw Matheo, with Stephanie underneath him, his large hand already sliding under her shirt.

"Matheo, I feel so terrible. Can you help me?" Stephanie panted, her cheeks flushed as she gazed at him with dreamy eyes.

She guided his hand lower, but at the last moment, Matheo paused.

"No, Steph, you're still recovering. When you're better, I'll make it up to you," he murmured, kissing her forehead with tenderness overflowing from his eyes.

But Stephanie wasn't satisfied. "You have to promise not to touch Livia, that witch."

Matheo laughed softly, but his hands continued to unhook her bra. "Feeling jealous, are we?"

The clasp snapped open, and in a flash, an intimate moment unfolded.

Unable to bear watching any longer, I suppressed my disgust, recorded the scene, and quietly closed the door, leaving them to their treachery.