My Husband Turned Me Into His Mistress's Surrogate

"Oh, I am so incredibly clumsy today," Celeste Whitmore said.

She didn't even try to hide the smirk on her face. Red wine soaked into the pale silk of my maternity dress, chilling the skin over my swollen, seven-month belly.

"Are you hurt, Viv?" Adrian Ashford asked.

My husband pulled a linen handkerchief from his tailored suit and gently dabbed at the stain. In front of the Ashford family and their wealthy guests, he played the perfect, doting partner.

"I'm fine, Adrian," I murmured. I rested a protective hand on my stomach.

"You need to be careful, Celeste," Adrian scolded lightly. His tone remained perfectly polite. "Vivian is carrying the Ashford heir."

Celeste’s jaw tightened. She slammed her empty crystal glass onto the banquet table. The sharp clink silenced the nearby guests.

"Right. The precious heir," she snapped. "Forgive me for ruining your perfect family portrait."

"Celeste, wait," Adrian called out.

She was already spinning around, storming toward the grand exit of the dining hall. Adrian took a step after her, his hand twitching at his side. He caught himself, turning back to me.

"Come on, Viv," he said. He wrapped an arm around my waist. "Let's get you upstairs to change."

We walked toward the guest suites of the estate. The whole way, his eyes kept darting back toward the doors Celeste had vanished through. His muscles were rigid against my side.

Inside the suite, I unzipped the ruined dress. Before I could step out of it, Adrian's phone buzzed. He snatched it from his pocket.

"What?" he demanded into the receiver.

He listened for three seconds. All the color drained from his face.

"She took her car? She's been drinking!" he yelled.

He shoved the phone back into his pocket and grabbed my wrist. His grip was entirely too tight.

"We have to go," he said.

"Adrian, I need to put clothes on. I'm freezing."

"There's no time, Vivian!" he barked. "She's reckless when she's mad. We are leaving right now."

"I'm seven months pregnant! Let me stay here. Your mother can send a driver for me later."

"I said we are going."

He didn't wait for my answer. He dragged me out of the room, down the back stairs, and out into the freezing night air. My ruined dress clung to my skin, sticky and cold.

He shoved me into the passenger seat of his SUV and slammed the door.

By the time I buckled my seatbelt, he was tearing down the gravel driveway. The tires spun, kicking up dirt as we hit the paved mountain road. The winding path was slick with fresh rain.

"Slow down!" I gripped the overhead handle.

"I need to catch her before she does something stupid," Adrian muttered. His knuckles turned white on the steering wheel.

"You're going eighty on a mountain curve!"

"Shut up, Vivian. Just shut up!"

His eyes were wide, fixed on the red taillights fading in the distance. Celeste's sports car was weaving erratically ahead of us.

"Adrian, please! Think about the baby!"

"I don't care about—"

He cut himself off. Headlights flashed blindingly bright through the windshield. Celeste had slammed on her brakes, her car fishtailing wildly toward the steel guardrail.

"Celeste!" Adrian screamed.

He jerked the steering wheel hard to the left to avoid hitting her. Our heavy SUV lost traction. We spun.

The world flipped upside down.

Metal crunched with a deafening roar. Glass shattered, flying through the cabin like icy rain. We rolled twice before smashing into the rocky embankment.

Silence followed. A heavy, ringing silence.

Pain tore through my abdomen. It was a sharp, blinding agony that stole the air from my lungs. I tried to move my legs, but the crushed dashboard pinned them in place.

"Adrian..." I choked out. Dust coated my throat.

Next to me, Adrian groaned. He fumbled with his seatbelt, the buckle clicking open. Blood dripped from a nasty gash on his forehead, but he was moving. He was alive.

"Adrian, help me," I pleaded.

He didn't look at me. He didn't even glance my way. He kicked his jammed door open with brutal force.

"Celeste!" he yelled into the dark.

I twisted my neck, fighting through the agonizing cramp in my stomach. Celeste's car had smashed into the barrier just twenty yards away. Smoke billowed from her hood.

"Adrian, the baby..." I screamed.

A warm, terrifying wetness spread between my thighs. Blood. So much blood.

He sprinted toward the smoking sports car. He didn't hesitate. He didn't look back.

"Celeste! Baby, answer me!"

Baby.

He called her baby.

I watched through the shattered remains of the windshield. Adrian grabbed the bent metal of Celeste's door and yanked it open. He reached inside, his frantic hands pulling her out of the wreckage.

"I'm here," he whispered, pressing frantic kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, her hair. "I've got you. I'm right here."

"My arm hurts, Adrian," Celeste sobbed, burying her face in his chest.

"I know, I know. It's going to be okay. I'll get you to a hospital."

"Adrian!" I shrieked.

The sound tore my vocal cords. The pain in my belly clamped down, doubling me over against the steering column.

"I'm trapped! Please! The baby is coming! I'm bleeding!"

Adrian stopped. He turned his head, peering through the darkness at our mangled SUV. His eyes met mine.

There was no panic for me. No fear for his unborn child. Just a cold, detached annoyance.

"Quiet down, Vivian!" he shouted back. "Celeste is injured! I have to get her down the mountain!"

"I'm dying!" I sobbed, my fingers clawing uselessly at the crushed metal trapping my legs. "Save your child!"

He turned his back to me.

"Hold on to me," he murmured to Celeste.

He lifted her into his arms, carrying her bridal-style down the dark, winding road toward the distant glow of town.

I stared at his retreating back. The man I married. The father of my child. He was walking away, leaving me trapped in a crushed tin can to bleed to death.

Another contraction hit me, harder than the last. I screamed until my vision spotted with black stars.

The warm pool beneath me grew larger. My baby was slipping away. Every second that passed, another piece of my life drained into the ruined upholstery.

"Someone..." I whispered to the empty, freezing night. "Please..."

My eyelids fluttered. The taillights of Celeste's wrecked car blinked like a mocking heartbeat. I felt the last bit of warmth leave my body. The dark edges of my vision closed in completely.

Right before the world went entirely black, a pair of headlights swept across the wreckage, and the crunch of heavy footsteps sounded on the gravel.

"Hey! Is anyone in there?" a deep, unfamiliar voice called out.