Operating lights. Cold metal beneath me.

I blinked against the brightness, my limbs stiff, foreign. I couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Just the beeping machines keeping time beside me.

Something was wrong. Deeply wrong.

“Make sure the hysterectomy is clean,” someone said, just out of sight.

Ronnie.

My fiancé.

He sounded... calm. Calculated.

“She must never know,” he added.

Hysterectomy?

Was this happening to me?

I tried to scream, but my throat was dry. My mind scrambled to piece together how I’d ended up here—why Ronnie sounded more like a business executive than a groom standing beside his injured bride.

Then it hit me.

The crash. The road. The dress waiting for me at the chapel. My wedding.

And before that—nothing. Just excitement. Then… darkness.

“She’s already paralyzed on one side,” the doctor replied. “We’ll need to tell her something.”

Ronnie’s answer was icy. “Tell her it was a complication. She won’t question it. She’s not that clever.”

I felt like the world was tilting.

“She can’t have my child,” he added. “That would ruin everything with Margaret.”

Margaret.

The name carved into every scar I didn’t realize I had. His first love. The one who left. The one he never stopped waiting for—even while holding my hand through years of empty promises.

My heart pounded, though my body refused to react.

“I only proposed to Doris because she’s convenient,” Ronnie went on. “Her family’s name, her money. I never planned to stay. Margaret didn’t marry me, but she’s the only one I’ve ever loved.”

Convenient. That was what I’d been reduced to.

I heard another voice join them. “The driver?” Ronnie’s secretary.

“Pay him off,” Ronnie said flatly. “Move him far. I don’t want any leaks. Doris needs to believe this was an unfortunate accident.”

The betrayal clawed through my chest. The crash—he planned it. All of it.

The doctor lowered his voice. “The boy’s three now. Looks like Doris. What if she finds out the truth about Margaret? Or Margaret’s husband?”

Three years? A child?

I wanted to sob. Scream. Shake him. But I couldn’t even lift my hand. My entire life had been a lie. While I clung to a fantasy, Ronnie lived a double life—with a family of his own. A child. A woman who wanted me gone. And now… a fake surgery to steal my future.

He was taking everything.

And somehow, this was also about my brother?

What had he done that Ronnie would do this to me?

I stayed still, feigning unconsciousness. If Ronnie knew I had heard him, it would be over.

The door opened again. A nurse came in, adjusting my IV. She must’ve thought I was still sedated.

With every ounce of will, I parted my lips.

“…Help.”

She gasped, startled.

I forced my eyes open. “Please… my phone. My brother. Don’t tell Ronnie.”

“Why your brother?” she whispered, confused.

“He’ll know. He’ll stop them. Just… I’ll do anything. Just stop the surgery.”

Her lips parted to speak, but she nodded instead. “I’ll try.”

And then—just like before—darkness began to close in again.

This time, I wasn’t afraid of it.

I was afraid of waking up and realizing no one made it in time.

A dull, persistent ache throbbed across my entire body as I drifted back into consciousness. For a moment, I simply lay still, eyes focused on the ceiling above me. Everything felt strange, yet sickeningly familiar—the beeping machines, the sharp scent of disinfectant, the sterile quiet of the room pressing down on me like a weight.

I pulled in a shaky breath, lungs tight. I was alive. Somehow, I had survived.

But something wasn’t right.

Slowly, I reached down toward my abdomen. My fingers met the thin cotton of a hospital gown, and beneath that—pain. A tight pull, a stinging throb. I carefully peeled the blanket back and saw it: bandages. A fresh surgical dressing wrapped tightly around my midsection.

My stomach clenched. Did they really go through with it? Did they take something from me I could never get back?

My breathing hitched. I thought of the nurse. I had begged her to call my brother—to do something, anything. Did she ignore me? Was I too late?

The soft groan of the door opening pulled me out of my panic. I instantly closed my eyes and composed my face into a neutral mask.

Footsteps followed. I recognized the faint cologne before I saw the man.

Ronnie.

He walked closer, and a false tenderness coated his voice as he murmured, “You're awake, sweetheart.”

I blinked my eyes open slowly, feigning confusion. “Ronnie…?”

His smile stretched too easily. “You’re alright now. The doctors did what they had to do, and you’re in recovery. Give it some time, and with a bit of rehab, you’ll be walking again.”

I swallowed hard and gave a weak nod. I had to act like I knew nothing.

Then, his face grew somber. He let out a long sigh and took a seat beside my bed, reaching for my hand as if this pained him more than anything in the world.

“There’s… something else you should know,” he said gently, squeezing my fingers in mock support.

I said nothing. Just stared.

“The accident…” He paused, pretending to gather himself. “The internal injuries were worse than they expected. They couldn’t save everything.”

My silence stretched between us like a chasm.

He looked down, his voice thick with manufactured grief. “They had to remove your uterus.”

I gasped as though the news had blindsided me. “No… that can’t be.”

“I’m sorry, Doris.” His tone softened further, eyes shimmering with staged sorrow. “I know how much you wanted to have kids. We both did. But I promise, this doesn’t change anything between us.”

He leaned in and cradled my cheek in his palm, as if I were made of porcelain.

“We can still build a family. Adoption is always an option. There’s a wonderful orphanage I’ve worked with before. We’ll find a child to love together. None of this changes how I feel about you.”

Every word dripped with deceit, but I kept my expression calm. Inside, I was screaming. I wanted to rip his hand from my face, to accuse him of everything—but I didn’t. Not yet.

Ronnie continued playing the devoted fiancé for the rest of the day. He brought me lunch, adjusted my blankets, stroked my hair, and sat beside me whispering soothing words.

And I played along. I smiled. I nodded. I thanked him.

But all the while, I was counting the minutes, watching the door, waiting for the moment he would leave.

When he finally did, and the door clicked shut behind him, I released the breath I’d been holding for hours.

A few seconds later, the nurse came in.

I locked eyes with her and spoke in a hushed, urgent voice. “Did you reach him? My brother?”

She gave a slight nod, casting a wary glance at the hallway before slipping a phone into my hand.

The line was already connecting.

Then—

“Doris?”

The voice on the other end made my throat tighten. I hadn’t heard it in years, but I’d know it anywhere.

“It's me,” I whispered, barely holding myself together.

“You’re hurt, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice hard with emotion.

Tears pooled in my eyes. “I didn’t listen. I should’ve believed you. I thought I knew better.” My voice cracked. “Can you come get me? Please?”

There was a pause filled with silence heavier than stone. Then his voice came again, laced with guilt and fury. “I should’ve stopped this sooner. I knew he was dangerous. Ronnie’s hated me since I landed that contract—he always blamed me for taking it from him. Maybe this… was his way of settling the score.”

I bit my lip to stop from sobbing.

“But listen to me,” he said, voice firm now. “The operation didn’t happen. I got there in time. Nothing was removed.”

I inhaled sharply, the weight on my chest lifting an inch.

“You’ll recover fully,” he reassured me. “Just keep up the act. Don’t raise suspicion. Once you’re strong enough, I’ll send a private jet to bring you home.”

I closed my eyes, clutching the phone. “Alright.”

When the call ended, I turned to the nurse. “No one else can find out. Not a word.”

She nodded with resolve. “Your brother made sure I’d keep this quiet. I’m with you.”

That night, Ronnie came back. His eyes scanned me with a hint of suspicion.

“You look… different. Are you feeling alright?”

I forced a tired smile. “I think the meds are working. I feel a little clearer.”

He chuckled. “You’ve always been tough. You bounce back like no one else.”

I tilted my head slightly, as if lost in thought. “You know what sounds good? Pizza.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Pizza? Now?”

I shrugged. “Don’t worry. It's late.”

Ronnie smirked. “You should’ve said something earlier. I’ll get it for you tomorrow.”

As if to reinforce his perfect partner image, he spoon-fed me dinner like a man deeply in love.

I let him.

Because I knew his little fantasy was about to crumble.

Later that night, when he believed I was asleep, his voice stirred me from stillness.

He was on a call.

“So, the divorce went through? That’s perfect,” he said, sounding pleased. “Now we can finally be together.”

Margaret.

The name was like poison in my veins.

Ronnie continued, his tone dripping with smug satisfaction. “About the ceremony—Doris agreed to have someone stand in for her. She still doesn’t know that person is you.”

I felt all the pieces clicking into place. That’s why he insisted the wedding move forward, even while I was bedridden. He had masked it as corporate necessity, claiming optics and timing mattered.

Lies.

It had never been about business.

It was always Margaret.

“She won’t figure it out until it’s too late,” Ronnie said, a quiet laugh slipping from his lips. “She’ll think she’s marrying me, but really? I’ll be up there with you. And by the time the truth hits her, it won’t matter.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, trying not to gasp aloud.

“And as for her brother?” he added, voice turning venomous, “He thought he ruined me? No. I’m just getting started. I’ll destroy Doris in the process.”

“Doris, sweetheart… don’t you think it’s time we seriously consider adoption?”

I glanced up at Ronnie from my seat in the wheelchair. His gaze was hopeful, lips curled into that warm, too-perfect smile he wore like a mask. I’d known this conversation was coming. He had been laying the groundwork for days—showing up with breakfast trays, fluffing pillows, doting on me like I was the love of his life.

Too bad I already knew who he truly loved.

He had been secretly meeting with Margaret—the Krystale woman he was planning to marry while parading me around as his fiancée. The woman for whom he’d orchestrated every lie, every betrayal, right down to the wedding we were never truly going to have.

But I didn’t care anymore. I was healing—slowly regaining strength in my legs. My body, once broken, was beginning to remember how to move. I hadn’t told Ronnie about that progress. Why would I? He’d lost the right to know anything about me.

If he wanted to rush into adoption to complete his little charade, I would let him. I’d smile. I’d agree. And I’d use every second to regain control of what he thought he’d stolen.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” I replied, curling my lips into a soft smile.

He looked stunned for a moment. “Seriously? Just like that?”

I nodded, playing the role of the agreeable fiancée. “You're right. We should take the next step. If children aren’t in the cards biologically, then adoption is a good path. Besides…” I glanced down at my lap, feigning vulnerability. “Being stuck like this... it’s been depressing. A baby might give me something to look forward to.”

He let out a visible breath, his shoulders lowering. “Good. That’s great, actually. I’ve supported an orphanage for years. We could head there today, meet some of the kids.”

Today? He had this planned down to the hour.

Still, I nodded. “Sure. Let’s go.”

The orphanage was everything a brochure would boast: warm, welcoming, full of light. Children’s laughter echoed in the halls, and colorful murals lined the walls. Staff smiled politely as we entered, their expressions a mix of curiosity and polite interest.

Then it happened.

A little girl with big, expressive brown eyes and bouncing curls dashed through the room. She didn’t hesitate—ran straight into Ronnie’s arms.

“Daddy!”

The word pierced through me.

She threw herself around his waist, hugging him tightly like a child who had done this many times before.

Ronnie stiffened. “Doris, don’t overthink it,” he said, quickly peeling the child’s arms off him. “The kids here call me ‘Dad’ because I donate regularly.”

“Of course,” I said, forcing a serene expression. “That’s very sweet.”

The little girl—her name was Krystal—grinned up at him with a familiarity that made my stomach churn. Her features, her eyes, her smile... she didn’t just resemble Ronnie.

She looked like Margaret.

“She’s a sweetheart, isn’t she?” Ronnie asked, clearing his throat.

“She actually looks a lot like you,” I said, tilting my head, watching his reaction.

Ronnie laughed nervously. “Well, that just means she’ll be a good match, right?”

He didn’t deny it. I felt... nothing. Not anger. Not surprise. Just confirmation.

“Maybe we should adopt her,” I said lightly, my voice sugar-sweet.

Ronnie hesitated for a fraction of a second before searching my face, like he wasn’t sure if I was serious—or if I had finally put the puzzle together. But he didn’t know me. Not really. Not anymore.

He thought I was a naive woman clinging to a broken love.

He’d soon learn he was dead wrong.

After a pause, he nodded. “Perfect. Let’s make it happen.”

He stayed behind to fill out the necessary forms. I wheeled myself down one of the quieter corridors, needing a moment to breathe away from his suffocating presence.

That’s when I overheard the staff.

“Can you believe Mr. Brown is letting his biological daughter pose as an orphan?”

A scoff followed. “And now he wants to adopt her like she’s not even his? That’s twisted.”

“Poor fiancée,” another voice said with pity. “She’s completely in the dark.”

My grip tightened on the armrests of the wheelchair. So it was true. Krystal was Ronnie’s child. I should have felt furious, betrayed—but the truth? I was numb. There was nothing left in me to break.

I already knew. I just needed proof.

I was turning around, ready to leave before they noticed me, when I caught another voice.

“Mommy!”

It was Krystal’s voice. Sweet, innocent, and full of affection. I wheeled around the corner and saw Margaret standing beside her. Krystal held her hand, eyes shining.

The moment they noticed me, Ronnie rushed to intercept.

“Oh, Doris,” he said, too casually. “Krystal calls her ‘Mommy’ because Margaret volunteers a lot. It’s just a term of endearment, you know? Nothing serious.”

I laughed. Out loud. Couldn’t help myself.

He was unbelievable. Absolutely shameless.

“Doris!” Margaret greeted me with a bright smile, walking over with the confidence of someone who thought she’d won. “So good to see you again.”

“You too,” I said, managing a smile that felt more like baring teeth.

“I hope your recovery is going well,” she said sweetly. “Ronnie mentioned you might still want to go through with the wedding. If you’d like, I could be your stand-in. Just until you’re feeling stronger.”

She paused, then smirked. “Unless, of course, you’d prefer to roll down the aisle in your wheelchair. But I’m not sure how the press—or Ronnie’s parents—would feel about that kind of image.”

The venom was expertly veiled. But it still stung.

“That’s really generous of you,” I said with a polite nod. “Thanks for being so understanding.”

She blinked at my calm. “Sure... no problem.”

Ronnie’s eyes shifted between us, trying to read me.

“I’ll wait outside,” I told him, turning my wheelchair toward the exit.

He stepped forward. “Wait—are you okay? You don’t seem upset.”

I stopped and tilted my head. “Why would I be? Did you lie to me? Did you do something wrong?”

His jaw clenched. “No. Of course not.”

“Then I don’t see a reason to be angry,” I said sweetly and left him standing there in silence.

I made it to the front steps before I heard hurried footsteps behind me.

Margaret.

She fell into step beside my wheelchair, arms crossed, eyes sharp.

“You really think playing dumb is going to work?” she sneered.

I turned to her, expression blank. “Sorry?”

She rolled her eyes. “How long are you planning to pretend? You know what’s going on. So what’s your move, Doris? When are you going to finally let him go?”

I gave her a long look, calm and steady. “Let him go?” I repeated. “Funny. I was just about to ask you the Krystale thing.”