"Pregnant again?" Michelle Harris stared at the test in her hand, her mind spinning.

This would be her third baby. And for some ungodly reason, she'd never been able to carry the first two to term.

Once she got home, Michelle dialed the number she knew by heart. Hope climbed higher with every unanswered ring, and her heart sank lower and lower, until finally, the line clicked through.

Her eyes lit up bright with hope as she babbled the news to Logan Harris, "Logan… I’m pregnant."

Dead silence stretched on the other end. Just when Michelle thought the call had dropped, Logan’s rough, gravelly voice came through: "I’ll have Yadiel bring you some prenatal vitamins later. That’s all for now."

Michelle listened to the dial tone buzz in her ear, then set the phone down, disappointment heavy in her chest.

Same as always. Logan always made sure someone dropped off vitamins for the pregnancy, but his words never held a drop of joy.

Knock knock.

A soft rap on the door pulled her out of her head. Michelle answered evenly, "Come in."

Yadiel stepped in, holding a mug that still steamed. "Madam, Mr. Harris asked me to bring you this herbal tea. You should drink it while it’s hot."

Michelle pulled a wobbly smile. "Thank you."

She took the mug without a second thought and drank the whole thing down. But moments later, a searing pain ripped through her abdomen, and warm liquid started leaking down her thighs.

She glanced down, and pure panic flooded her system when she saw the bright red blood blooming across her jeans. She dropped the mug, clutching Yadiel’s arm so tight her knuckles whitened. "Yadiel, call an ambulance, hurry!"

Yadiel froze. Even he remembered the previous miscarriages hadn’t hit this fast.

"Hurry, Yadiel!" Michelle’s desperate plea yanked him out of his shock. He ran out… but instead of calling 911, he dialed Logan. "Sir, Madam’s had a miscarriage…"

Mid-call, Michelle blacked out. When she came to, she was in her own bed, her personal physician standing over her, needle still in hand.

"Where’s my baby?" Michelle’s voice came out thin and broken as she clutched the doctor’s sleeve, desperate for any other answer.

The doctor shook his head softly. "Madam, your uterine wall is too thin. The embryo could never implant properly."

Hearing the same old explanation one more time, the sharp focus in Michelle’s eyes went dull and empty. She stared up at the ceiling, and suddenly the herbal tea she’d drunk earlier popped into her head.

She thought back to all her previous miscarriages. Every single one had happened right after she drank that tea. And it was always this same doctor that treated her after.

If she needed medical care, why did Yadiel call this private doctor instead of taking her to a real hospital?

While she was piecing it all together, the door swung open. Michelle looked over slow and wary, and locked eyes with Logan Harris’s cold, sharp jawline.

She pressed her lips together tight, and finally forced the words out: "Logan, I don’t feel good. Can you please take me to the hospital?"

Logan narrowed his deep-set eyes, a glacial gleam in them as he replied coldly: "It’s not necessary. Dr. Lee will take care of you here."

His blunt refusal made the unthinkable click into place. Michelle suddenly grabbed Logan’s hand and faced him head on, voice shaking: "These three miscarriages… were they your doing?"

Logan’s face darkened, but he didn’t even try to lie. "That’s right."

Michelle’s heart twisted so hard it hurt, tears spilling over as hysteria bubbled up. "Why!? Why would you do this? They were our babies!"

She’d blamed herself this whole time. She’d even felt like she’d failed him. But in the end… he was the one who killed her babies.

Michelle beat at his chest, sobbing and broken. He caught her wrist in a brutal grip fast, fury blazing in his eyes. "Michelle Harris, do you really think you’re worthy of carrying my child?"

“Wh—why would you do this?” Michelle Harris sobbed, glaring daggers at Logan Harris. He only answered her with a cold, sharp smirk.

“Josephine will never be a mother because of you. What gives you the right to have your own child?” Logan sneered at Michelle, disgust carved deep into every line of his face.

Michelle shook her head, hot tears spilling down her cheeks. “It wasn’t me. She did this to herself—ah!” Her words cut off into a cry as Logan’s grip on her arm tightened until the pain burned, like he was trying to crush her bones right through her skin.

“Let go, Logan! You’re hurting me!” Michelle’s voice cracked with agony. When he refused to loosen his hold, she reacted on instinct and sank her teeth right into his hand.

Logan grunted in pain and hurled her away hard. Anger blazed hot in his eyes as he fished out his phone and dialed a number. “Be here in ten minutes. Bring five guys to my house,” he snapped into the line.

Michelle realized what he was planning in a gut-wrenching flash and bolted for the door. But the second she reached it, a rough hand wrenched her right back.

“Logan, you can’t do this to me!” She fought him with every ounce of strength she had, but Logan didn’t even flinch. He wrenched her close, his sharp, blazing gaze boring right into hers. “When you sent those men after Josephine, did you stop to say you couldn’t?”

“No, that’s not what happened! Logan, why won’t you believe me?” she begged, her voice shaking so hard with desperation it was almost unrecognizable.

It had all been Josephine’s plan three years earlier. She’d invited Michelle to meet her at a bar, but Michelle’s car had broken down halfway there. By the time she got it towed and arrived, the bar was already closed. After asking around, she’d found out Josephine had been assaulted by several men. Josephine pinned the whole attack on Michelle, using her late arrival as proof of her guilt. But when Michelle dug to clear her name, she uncovered the truth: Josephine owed a loan shark money she couldn’t pay back, and she’d agreed to offer herself to those men to wipe out her debt. When Michelle never showed up, the guys got sick of waiting, and they took Josephine instead.

A sharp knock at the door yanked Michelle out of her racing thoughts. Her heart plummeted straight to her stomach as five men filed into the room.

“Mr. Harris…” one of them began.

“She’s yours tonight.,” Logan answered coolly, his words dripping with venom.

“No! Logan, you can’t do this! We’re husband and wife!” Michelle screamed, clawing to cling to his arm, but Logan just shoved her hard away.

“Husband and wife? If you hadn’t manipulated my parents into accepting you, do you think I would’ve ever married your ass?” Logan shot back, a derisive sneer twisting his lips. “You’ll never be worthy of the Harris name.”

“I didn’t… it wasn’t…”

Logan wouldn’t hear another word. He waved a hand, and all five men closed in, backing Michelle into a corner.

“Don’t come near me! Stay the hell away!” she begged, stumbling backward, her eyes glued to Logan’s face. All she saw there was cold scorn. He turned to leave, but a commotion broke out right behind him.

“M-Mr. Harris, she… she hurt herself…” one of the men stammered.

Logan froze, then spun around. He saw Michelle crumpled on the floor, blood seeping from a deep cut in her abdomen. His heart slammed hard against his ribs. He rushed to her side and scooped her up, roaring with rage. “Michelle, if you dare die on me, I swear to God—your grandma pays for this tomorrow.”

Michelle Harris was wheeled into the ER, barely conscious, her heart rate dropping to dangerous levels.

"Patient has severe internal bleeding, needs emergency hysterectomy immediately. Her condition's critical—get her family in here right now!"

Was this really it? Michelle's eyelids felt like they were weighed down with lead, too heavy to even flutter open.

"Doctor, please..." Her thoughts were already slipping into the dark fog of unconsciousness, but just before she lost her hold on reality, she caught a nurse's voice: "Dr. Cruz, the family signed off on the surgery."

Those words crushed the last tiny shred of hope Michelle had left. The beep of the heart monitor beside her flatlined into a steady, dead hum.

"Dr. Cruz, her heart's stopped!"

"Get the defibrillator, now!"

The nurse hurried out to find Logan Harris, shoving a critical condition notification form into his hands. "Michelle Harris' heart stopped. We just need your signature here—we're doing everything we can."

Logan's brow furrowed, frozen in place for a split second. "What do you mean her heart stopped? I thought this was just a routine procedure?"

He spun toward the ER doors, trying to shove his way in, but the nurse blocked his path. "Sir, you can't go in there!"

A steely edge hardened Logan's face, his voice sharp enough to cut. "I'm going in to see what's happening. Move."

He brushed right past the nurse's protests and burst through the doors—just in time to see the defibrillator jolt Michelle's chest. The sight squeezed his heart so hard it ached out of nowhere.

"Sir, you have to leave!"

The nurse's shout made Dr. Thomas Cruz pause, but he snapped his focus right back to resuscitating her seconds later.

Logan pushed past everyone to get to Michelle's side and shouted, "Michelle Harris, I warned you. If you die on me, I'll make sure your grandmother joins you. Don't believe me? Go ahead and try it."

The second the words left his mouth, Michelle's heart rate spiked back to life. The monitor beeped steadily again, her heartbeat back to normal. A wave of unexpected relief washed over Logan, even if his face stayed as cold and unreadable as ever.

After a grueling fight to bring her back, Michelle was finally stable enough to move out of the ER. Logan wheeled her out himself.

As they left, Thomas pulled off his surgical mask, his gaze dark and pensive. It lingered on Logan's retreating back, heavy with quiet disapproval.

Michelle woke up the next morning to find Logan asleep in the chair beside her bed, his eyes ringed with exhaustion from a sleepless night.

"You're awake," he said softly, standing up to move to her bedside.

Just looking at him dragged up the memories of the last moments before she blacked out. Tears stung her eyes, but she pushed them down and said, "Three lives, and my womb... I've paid my debt to Josephine Perkins. Logan, let's get a divorce."

When she said divorce, Logan knew he should've agreed right away. But for some weird reason, the words that came out were: "Don't even think about it. You think you can just walk in and out of my life whenever you feel like it?"

Bang!

A loud crash from the hallway cut them off. Logan's head snapped toward the door, glare sharp. "Who's there?"

The hospital room door swung open, and Josephine stepped in, her face pulled into a solemn, concerned expression. "It's me. I heard Michelle was admitted, I just came to check on her..."

"You should be resting yourself," Logan murmured, slipping an arm around Josephine right in front of Michelle. "She's going to be fine, there's no reason for you to wear yourself out staying here."

Michelle bit down hard on her lower lip. It felt like someone had driven a knife straight through her heart, letting a freezing cold wind pour into the hollow.

"Haven't you put on enough of a show? I need to rest, so just leave!" Michelle's voice was ice cold as she stared at the pair. But Josephine just walked past Logan, gently pushing him aside.

Michelle tried to pull back, pressing herself deeper into the mattress, but Josephine reached out. Her touch was light, her eyes glistening with what looked like regret. "Michelle, I've let the past go. Don't worry—I'm not going to come between you and Logan."