A week before the wedding, I got in a car crash. The baby was gone. They said my uterus was removed—just like that, motherhood erased.

Grief hollowed me out. I was barely holding on when Jack's voice cut through the room, loud on speaker.

"Jack, you put her on a birth control implant and lied about the surgery? That's messed up."

His tone turned cold. "I can't let my child with Mary be seen as illegitimate. This is the only way to give him my name. As for Stella, I'll make it up to her for the rest of my life."

The world flipped.

I was drowning in grief over my baby, never realizing the whole thing was a setup.

From the start.

"You don't need to worry. Write the report exactly how I said. The wedding's still on. Mary and Stella are sisters—once she's in a dress, no one can tell. At least Mary gets her dream wedding. I already brought the baby back. Stella will be grateful. She'll raise it like her own."

A sigh crackled through the phone. "You're going to regret this. If she finds out, she'll never forgive you."

"She won't."

His fingers brushed over my forehead, then my eyes—gentle. Then, quieter, "I'm all she has. She won't leave. And make sure the driver's death certificate is clean. No loose ends."

The call ended.

He stood there, watching me for a long time.

Then he left.

The moment I knew he was gone, I opened my eyes.

A storm ripped through me.

Jack—you'd really go this far for Mary Browne.

Fine.

This time, I'll give you exactly what you want.

Three days later, while he got caught up in wedding prep, I slipped out of the hospital and went to another one.

I got checked.

I could still have children.

The "hysterectomy"?

A lie.

On the way back, my phone rang.

"Stella, where did you go?!"

Jack's voice came through, breathless, panicked.

"I just stepped out. Needed air. I'm heading back."

"Send me your location. I'll pick you up."

I hesitated, then sent it.

Ten minutes later, he pulled up. The second he saw me, he rushed over and pulled me into his arms.

"Jack, Stella!"

The voice came from behind him.

My body went rigid.

Mary Browne. My half-sister.

Her mom, Anna Darby, wrecked my family.

Now she was Jack's side chick. Of course.

Jack dropped me and went straight to her. "It's windy. Why are you out here?"

"I'm not that fragile."

They got all lovey-dovey like I didn't exist.

Mary suddenly gasped. "Oh—right. Stella's still here."

She pouted, acting cute—still tucked in his arms.

Only then did Jack seem to remember me. Before he could say anything, I opened the car door.

A baby car seat sat in the back. Clear as day.

A quiet laugh slipped out. "What's this?"

"Jack said you can't have kids, so he adopted one. This is for the baby."

Jack jumped in, "Stella, I've thought it through. Childbirth's risky. It's fine if you can't. You'll love this baby."

I said nothing and got in.

Mary tugged at Jack's sleeve. "Jack, I get carsick. Can Stella take the back?"

I looked at him. "I don't feel great either."

Mary's eyes went red. "It's fine. Stella matters more. I'm okay."

"Stella, take the back. Mary's not doing well."

She looked perfectly fine to me.

I didn't move.

Jack grabbed my arm. "Stop making this hard."

He yanked me out of the car. I hit the door, hard. Pain shot through me, and my eyes stung.

He helped Mary into the car like she'd break. Then got in—didn't even look back.

I limped inside.

Only then did Mary glance at me. Something sharp flashed in her eyes.

"Stella, I'm sorry. It's my fault. But Jack said if you're gonna be a mom, you can't be so sensitive. You need to toughen up. How else are you gonna take care of the baby?"

Something inside me went cold.

My baby's gone.

And you expect me to raise yours?

Shameless.

I said nothing. Just stared out the window.

Mary wouldn't drop it. "Did I say something wrong? Why are you ignoring me?"

Jack waited at a red light, his face turning cold. "Stella, what's your problem? Apologize to Mary. With that attitude, how am I supposed to trust you with the baby?"

Mary's eyes lit up—couldn't even hide it. "Jack, don't blame her. It's my fault. Maybe I should just get out."

"Go ahead. Your perfume's giving me a headache."

That did it. Tears hit her eyes instantly.

"Stella Spencer!" Jack snapped.

I leaned back. "I'm the patient here, right? You want me raising a baby—did you ever ask me? Is my body even up for it?"

Jack's face eased. "Fine. We'll talk when you're better."

Mary suddenly grabbed her stomach. "Jack, I feel dizzy. Can you take me to the hospital?"

He glanced ahead, then jerked the wheel—didn't even ask—and drove straight to the hospital.

When we stopped, he scooped her up and rushed out. Then, like an afterthought, he looked back. "Mary's not well. I'll take her in first. You—"

"I'm fine. I'll get a cab. Go."

He looked surprised, but didn't dwell on it. Just rushed inside.

Mary shot me a smug smile.

I turned and called Aunt Leah.

After I told her everything, her voice spiked. "The Ashfords think you've got no one? Don't worry. I'll handle it."

With her backing me, I finally relaxed.

I took a cab home alone and packed up whatever I had left at Jack's place.

Everywhere I looked, Mary was already there.

Anna drove my mom to her death. Not long after, she and Mary moved into our house.

My so-called father threw me out.

I took my mom's last name—Spencer.

When I met Jack, I told him everything. He held me tight like it broke him.

He said he'd treat me right for the rest of my life.

Then he ran into Mary. I still remember how he came home that day—way too excited.

"Stella, guess what? I saw that girl again. It's fate."

He fell for Mary hard. But her mom was a homewrecker—everyone knew it. No way the Ashfords would accept her.

So he used me. For her.

I got him completely wrong.

I tossed what I didn't need and gave the rest away. In the end, I was back to the suitcase I came with.

I took a breath and checked my phone. The wedding planner had sent the final confirmation.

"Ms. Spencer, the flowers have been changed to champagne roses. Are you sure?"

I'd picked lilies from the start. Champagne roses were Mary's favorite.

Before, I would've lost it on Jack. Now? Didn't matter.

"Coordinate everything with Jack. You don't need to ask me anymore."

She seemed to get it. After a long pause: "No matter what, Ms. Spencer, I hope you'll be happy."

Even a planner who barely knew me wished me happiness.

My fiancé? Plotting against me the whole time.

I let out a bitter laugh.

Jack got back late. One look at my half-empty room and his brows pulled tight. "Why's everything gone? Where are you going?"

Then he spotted the suitcase. Panic flickered.

I kept it casual. "We're getting married soon. I'm replacing stuff anyway, so I tossed it."

Just like that, he relaxed. "In a couple days, I'll bring the baby over. You two should start bonding early."

"Okay. But I'm not doing great. Let's get a nanny."

His face hardened. "He's still little. This is when he bonds with his mom. We hire a nanny, what if he doesn't get close to you? You know my parents already have an issue with you not having kids. I barely talked them into this. You need to try harder with him."

No room to argue. He'd already decided.

For Mary, he ignored how I was doing and shoved his affair baby on me.

How ridiculous.

"Maybe in a couple days," I said. "The wedding's coming up, I—"

"That's enough. I'll handle the wedding. You stay home and take care of the baby."

I got it. I wouldn't even need to show up. The kid was the leash.

Jack Ashford, you really covered all your bases.

I nodded. "Okay. Whatever you say."

He didn't question it. Loosening his tie, he said, "I'm doing this for you. Be good. We'll have a good life."

I said nothing and walked past him into the bedroom.

A good life? Not in this lifetime.

He moved to follow—then his phone rang.

Mary's sugary voice blasted on speaker. "Jack, come quick. The baby won't stop crying, won't drink milk. I don't know what to do!" Her sobs mixed with the baby wailing.

A soft laugh slipped out.

"I'm coming," Jack said, all gentle.

He glanced at me. "Stella, Mary's struggling. I'll check on her. Stay home. The baby might come over later. Be ready."

"Got it."

Couldn't wait to deliver the kid, huh?

He rushed out.

The door shut. A message from Mary popped up.

[Stella, you'll always lose to me. One call and he runs. You've lost your uterus and his love. Now you just play nanny and raise the baby.]

I screenshotted it, printed it, and slid it into the nightstand.

Jack came back fast, baby in his arms.

Six months old. Cute, innocent. Then I saw it—Mary's face, stamped all over him. My chest twisted. I thought of my own baby.

My hand went to my stomach. Pain ripped through.

Jack held him like glass, voice soft as he soothed him.

He looked up, waved me over. All I felt was disgust. I didn't move.

"Stella, come hold him."

"I don't know how."

My flat tone set him off. "Stella, what is this? Don't make this hard."

"Hard?" I let out a dry laugh. "Even at my worst, I wouldn't play mom to a side chick's kid. And a baby from your affair? Nothing to be proud of—just like his mother. Shameless."

He froze—then slapped me.

Half my face went numb.

"What are you even saying?"

I hit him back, hard. He almost lost his footing.

He clutched the baby, shielding him.

I let out a cold laugh. "Oh, now you're careful? You know exactly how this kid happened. And you want me to raise him? The kid you had with Mary? You really think you deserve that?"

Jack swayed, panic flickering.

I didn't stop. "Our baby was two months along. You killed him."