I jolted awake with a gasp, my body drenched in cold sweat despite the silk sheets clinging to my skin. My hands flew to my stomach, expecting to feel the familiar, excruciating pain that had been my constant companion in those final days. The phantom labor pains that had torn me apart while Kaia gave birth in glory just one wall away.
But there was nothing—just smooth, flat skin beneath my fingertips.
"It can't be," I whispered, my voice hoarse. "It can't be real."
The morning light streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of our Hamptons estate master bedroom. Not the guest house. The master bedroom. Where I belonged.
I reached for my phone on the nightstand, trembling fingers swiping across the screen. The date glared back at me in harsh white numbers: September 15th.
Nine months. I had been given nine months back.
A strangled laugh escaped my throat as I collapsed back against the pillows. The pain that had killed me—the supernatural agony of a pregnancy I never carried—had been just a nightmare. Or rather, a memory.
Because I remembered everything. The curse. The betrayal. Dying alone while they celebrated new life.
A sharp twinge suddenly flared across my abdomen, stealing my breath. I clutched at the sheets, waiting for it to pass. A residual echo of the curse, a grim reminder of what was to come.
"I won't let it happen again," I promised the empty room, my voice steadier now. "Not this time."
---
"Valeria." Luca's voice cut through the breakfast room as he entered, already dressed in his impeccable suit despite the early hour. "We need to talk."
I looked up from my untouched tea, meeting his cold eyes with perfect composure. In my previous life, this moment had shattered me—his announcement that he was moving his mistress into our home. This time, I felt nothing but ice in my veins.
"Kaia will be moving in today," he said, not bothering to sit down. "Full-time. She'll be overseeing a spiritual fertility regimen for us."
Us. As if we were still a team. As if I were anything more than a failed incubator to him now.
"I see," I replied, my voice cool and even. "And where will she be staying?"
Something flickered across his face—surprise at my lack of resistance. In my past life, I had screamed, cried, begged. This time, I merely set down my cup with deliberate precision.
"The east wing guest suite," he said finally. "She'll need space for her... equipment."
I nodded once. "I'll ensure Sydney prepares everything."
Hours later, I stood at the front door, waiting. When the sleek black car pulled up, I straightened my spine and fixed a smile on my face that didn't reach my eyes.
Kaia emerged like a vision in flowing linen, her dark hair gleaming in the afternoon sun. But it was the pendant hanging from her neck that caught my attention—a polished obsidian stone wrapped in silver wire, hanging just above her collarbone.
The conduit for the Gemini Blood Pact. The medium of my destruction.
"Mrs. Matthews," she greeted me with practiced warmth, extending her hand. "Thank you so much for welcoming me into your home."
I took her hand, noting how her smile faltered slightly at my touch. "Ms. Salazar. Welcome to the Matthews estate. I hope your stay is... productive."
Something flickered in her eyes—uncertainty, perhaps even a flash of fear. She quickly masked it, but I had seen it. She hadn't expected me to be so composed.
"Luca has told me so much about you," she continued, her voice honey-sweet. "I'm sure we'll work wonderfully together toward your goal of starting a family."
I smiled again, this time allowing a hint of mystery to enter my expression. "Oh, I'm sure we will. Though perhaps not exactly as you imagine."
---
The private dining room glowed with candlelight as Eleanor Matthews presided over the head of the table, her diamond necklace catching the light with every sharp movement.
"Kaia, dear," she said, reaching across to pat the younger woman's hand. "You've been such a blessing to this family already."
I sat silently, watching the performance unfold exactly as I remembered. The fainting spell that Kaia had planned to perfection. The panic that followed.
"Call Dr. Whitfield immediately," Luca commanded, cradling Kaia's head as she slumped dramatically in her chair.
I knew what was coming next.
Dr. Marcus Whitfield arrived within the hour, his distinguished silver hair and confident manner calming the room instantly. After examining Kaia privately, he returned to the dining room with an expression of professional astonishment.
"It's extraordinary," he announced, looking directly at Luca. "Ms. Salazar is pregnant. Approximately six weeks along, and... there are eight distinct heartbeats."
"Eight?" Eleanor's voice rose with delight. "Octuplets? But that's medically impossible!"
"Not impossible," Dr. Whitfield corrected. "Just extremely rare. Supernaturally rare, one might say."
Luca's face transformed with joy as he rushed to Kaia's side. Eleanor followed, both of them enveloping the woman who had just cemented her position in the Matthews dynasty.
No one looked at me.
Then it came—a sharp, stabbing pain in my abdomen. I gasped silently, recognizing it immediately. The sympathetic link had begun.
I rose from the table, my napkin falling to the floor. "If you'll excuse me," I murmured, though no one was listening anyway.
As I walked from the room, my hand pressed against my still-flat stomach, my eyes hardened with determination. The game had begun. And this time, I knew all the rules.
I stood in the center of my bedroom, surveying the destruction around me. Drawers hung open, their contents spilled across the floor. Mattress slashed, feathers floating in the air like snow. Every inch of my sanctuary torn apart in my desperate search.
"Nothing," I whispered, my voice breaking. "There's nothing here."
I'd spent hours searching for the medium of the curse—the physical object that would explain the supernatural connection between Kaia and me. Some kind of hex bag, a voodoo doll, anything that could be the conduit for the Gemini Blood Pact.
But there was nothing.
A sharp pain lanced through my abdomen, and I doubled over, clutching at the bedpost for support. The curse was active, growing stronger. I could feel it taking root in my body, preparing to steal my life force once again.
"No," I growled through gritted teeth. "Not this time."
I straightened and moved to the dressing room, where Sydney waited with concern etched across her face.
"Mrs. Matthews," she began cautiously, "maybe we should call a doctor—"
"No doctors," I cut her off. "They can't help with this."
Sydney had been with me for years, loyal beyond measure. In my previous life, she'd been the one to find my body in the guest house, the one who'd mourned me when no one else cared. I needed her now more than ever.
"Sydney," I said, taking her hands in mine. "I need you to understand something extraordinary."
Before she could respond, I reached down and pinched my own arm—hard, twisting the flesh until it left a mark. The pain was sharp, immediate.
Down the hallway, we both heard a sudden yelp of pain, followed by the distinctive sound of shattering glass.
Sydney's eyes widened. "What was that?"
"That," I said quietly, "was Kaia feeling exactly what I just did."
I explained everything—the curse, the rebirth, the supernatural connection that had killed me once and would try again. Sydney listened without interruption, her expression shifting from disbelief to horror to determination.
"I don't understand how this is possible," she whispered when I finished.
"Neither do I," I admitted. "But it's real. And I need your help to destroy her."
Sydney's loyalty never wavered. She nodded once, decisively. "Tell me what you need."
---
Three days later, Sydney returned to my dressing room with a thick manila folder.
"I found what you asked for," she said, placing it on the vanity before me.
I opened it with trembling fingers. Inside were photographs, newspaper clippings, and handwritten notes—a dossier on Kaia Salazar that stretched back five years.
"There's a pattern," Sydney explained, pointing to the documents. "She's done this before—three other families, all wealthy, all desperate for heirs."
I scanned the pages, my blood running cold. In each case, Kaia had appeared as a fertility specialist or wellness coach. In each case, she'd become pregnant with multiples while the legitimate wife suffered mysterious illnesses. In each case, the wife had died shortly after the birth.
"And look at this," Sydney said, pulling out a photocopy of an ancient text. "The Gemini Blood Pact."
The page showed a ritual description in archaic language, with Sydney's notes in the margins. "It requires a willing participant and an unwilling victim," she explained. "The willing participant—Kaia—takes on the spiritual benefits of the pregnancy while transferring the physical toll to the victim. You."
I studied the text, my mind racing. "It says here the curse relies on emotional volatility and physical submission."
"Which means," Sydney said slowly, "that the more you react emotionally, the stronger the curse becomes."
I nodded, understanding dawning with terrible clarity. "I need to numb myself completely—especially toward Luca."
---
The brunch was in full swing when I entered the sunlit conservatory. Kaia held court at the center of the table, regaling Luca and Eleanor with stories of her "miraculous" pregnancy. Neither of them noticed me take my seat at the far end.
"Valeria," Eleanor acknowledged me with a dismissive nod. "We were just discussing the nursery designs."
I smiled thinly. "How exciting."
A waiter appeared at my elbow. "What can I bring you, Mrs. Matthews?"
"Iced water," I said. "As cold as you can make it."
The glass arrived moments later, condensation beading on its surface. I wrapped my fingers around it, feeling the cold bite into my skin.
"Valeria," Luca said with a frown, "you should be drinking something warmer in your condition."
"My condition," I replied coolly, "is precisely why I need this."
I raised the glass to my lips and took a long, deep swallow. The ice water burned down my throat, shocking my system with its coldness.
Across the table, Kaia suddenly went rigid. Her eyes widened as she clutched at her throat, then wrapped her arms around herself.
"Are you alright, dear?" Eleanor asked.
Kaia's teeth began to chatter uncontrollably, her words slurring through the involuntary movement. "I-I don't know what's happening. I'm so c-c-cold."
I took another sip of the water, watching as Kaia's shivering intensified. Our eyes met across the table, and for the first time, I saw fear in hers.
I smiled over the rim of my glass, a promise of things to come.
I stared at Luca across the breakfast table, watching as his expression shifted from confusion to anger. The morning sunlight streaming through the windows caught the gold flecks in his eyes—eyes that once made my heart race but now seemed as cold and distant as a stranger's.
"You've been different lately," he said, setting down his coffee cup with deliberate precision. "Distant. Cold."
I took a sip of my own coffee, savoring the bitter warmth. "Have I?"
"Your behavior toward Kaia is... unacceptable." His voice dropped lower, taking on the authoritative tone he used in boardrooms. "She's carrying our children, Valeria. She deserves respect."
In my previous life, this moment had shattered me. I'd begged for his love, for any scrap of affection he might spare me. I'd cried, screamed, pleaded—all to no avail.
Now, I simply studied his face and wondered how I'd ever found it handsome.
"Jealousy doesn't suit you," he continued, mistaking my silence for hurt. "Kaia is here because she's helping our family. Your attitude needs to change."
I set my cup down carefully, aligning it perfectly with the saucer. "You're right."
The words surprised him. His eyebrows rose slightly.
"About what?" he asked.
"About needing a change." I met his gaze directly. "I'll move to the guest house today."
The shock on his face was almost worth the pain of this entire charade. In my previous life, I'd fought tooth and nail against being banished from our bedroom. Now, I was offering it freely.
"That's... not necessary," he stammered.
"I think it is," I replied coolly. "For Kaia's comfort. After all, she's carrying the Matthews heir."
Luca's expression shifted, calculation replacing surprise. He thought he understood—that I was finally accepting my place, stepping aside gracefully.
"Fine," he said finally. "If that's what you want."
---
The charity luncheon was in full swing on the estate's terrace, Manhattan's elite mingling under white umbrellas while servers circulated with champagne and delicate canapés. I watched from the kitchen doorway as Kaia held court at the center of it all, her hand resting protectively over her still-flat stomach.
"The Matthews miracle," I heard someone murmur. "Eight babies!"
I slipped into the kitchen proper, where the staff was frantically plating the next course. The head chef glanced up as I entered.
"Mrs. Matthews, can I help you?"
"I'm just checking on the preparation," I said smoothly. "Everything looks wonderful."
I moved to the prep station where a bowl of fresh peppers sat—bright red habaneros, their surfaces glossy with capsaicin. My fingers closed around one.
"Those are extremely hot, ma'am," the sous chef warned.
I smiled. "I know exactly what I'm doing."
In one fluid motion, I bit into the pepper, chewing slowly as the fire erupted across my tongue and down my throat. The pain was immediate and intense—but I'd prepared for this.
I'd learned to compartmentalize pain in ways I never imagined possible during those final days of my previous life.
Through the kitchen window, I could see Kaia laughing at something Eleanor had said. I took another deliberate bite of the pepper, feeling the heat spread through my system.
Suddenly, Kaia's laughter cut off mid-sentence. Her face flushed bright red, then drained of color. She clutched at her throat, gasping for air as sweat beaded instantly on her forehead.
"Are you alright?" Eleanor demanded, her voice rising with alarm.
Kaia's eyes darted around wildly before finding mine through the kitchen window. Her expression contorted with panic as she realized what was happening.
"I—I don't know," she choked out, tears streaming down her face. "It burns! Everything burns!"
She stumbled to her feet, knocking over a glass of water that soaked the front of her silk dress. The stain spread across her abdomen like a wound.
"I need to lie down," she gasped, doubling over.
---
For three nights, I paced the floors of the guest house, fueled by black coffee and cold determination. Sleep eluded me by choice rather than circumstance.
On the first night, I heard Kaia's voice drifting through the wall: "I can't sleep! Something's wrong!"
By the second night, her cries had turned to hysteria. "She's doing something to me! I know she is!"
On the third night, I heard Luca's voice, tense and frustrated: "Kaia, please calm down. You're going to harm the babies with all this stress."
I sipped my coffee, watching dawn break over the estate grounds. My body ached for sleep, but my mind remained razor-sharp.
A soft knock at my door announced Sydney's arrival with news.
"She hasn't slept in three days," Sydney reported, her eyes wide with amazement. "Dr. Whitfield prescribed sedatives, but they're not working. Luca's at his wit's end."
I nodded, setting down my empty mug. "And how are you holding up?"
"Exhausted," Sydney admitted. "But it's working, isn't it?"
I moved to the window, watching as Luca paced the terrace below, phone pressed to his ear. Even from this distance, I could see the strain in his shoulders.
"Yes," I said quietly. "It's working. But this is just the beginning."
As if hearing my words, Luca looked up suddenly, his eyes meeting mine through the glass. For the first time since my rebirth, I saw something new in his expression.
Fear.