CHAPTER THREE

Elena's POV

Matteo came back a few hours later, moving in a rush.

“Baby, we’re leaving now,” he said, grabbing a few things. “Mum just called. You need to help with the meals. Hurry up.”

I hesitated, my grip tightening around the edge of my dress. My stomach churned with irritation, but I grabbed a few of my things anyway. It wasn’t like I had a choice.

A few hours later, we arrived at his parents’ house. There were only a few people around, but then I saw her—Camilla. She was smiling, holding onto Matteo’s father like she belonged there. His soon-to-be daughter-in-law.

“Oh, my baby!” his mother gushed, pulling Matteo into a hug. “Thank you for bringing me a help.”

Then her sharp gaze landed on me.

“You!” she snapped. “Get into the kitchen and start doing the dishes.”

I clenched my fists, forcing myself to swallow the anger rising inside me. Matteo stole me a glance, giving me a soft nod—his silent way of telling me to just do as they said.

I turned and walked toward the kitchen, my nails digging into my palm. This was all I was ever going to be—a house help.

Laughter filled the house, their voices carrying easily through the walls. I reached the sink, gripping the counter to steady myself, but then I felt it—warm breath hovering near my ear.

I turned sharply.

Camilla stood behind me, her lips curling in amusement.

“You stink,” she sneered. “I wonder how he puts up with you.”

Tears gathered in my eyes, but I blinked them back. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing me break.

Camilla smirked, stepping even closer. “I can’t wait to get my father’s approval so I can finally marry Matteo. But for now, you can keep being our puppet.” Her voice dripped with mockery. “Oh, and be useful—produce more babies for my stem cell.”

Her words hit like a slap, knocking the air from my lungs.

She leaned in, her breath warm against my cheek. “Why are you looking at me like that? You think you don’t deserve this?”

I swallowed hard. “Why are you being so wicked? I don’t deserve this.”

A cruel laugh escaped her lips. “You don’t deserve anything good. You’re just an ordinary orphan. No one cares about you.”

The words cut deeper than I wanted to admit.

She tilted her head, her eyes shining with pure malice. Then, before I could react, she shoved me back against the counter, the sharp edge digging into my spine.

I winced, but she wasn’t done.

Her fingers tightened around my arm, nails pressing into my skin. “Do you know how much I envy you?” she hissed, her voice low but laced with venom. “You can carry children. I can’t. And it disgusts me that someone like you gets to have what I never will.”

I froze, a chill running down my spine.

She smirked, her grip tightening. “But it doesn’t matter. Matteo will kill all your children anyway. And I’ll be here to watch.”

Camilla smirked, pressing her heel harder against my foot before stepping back. “Get used to it. This is your life now.”

I clenched my fists, swallowing the humiliation burning inside me. But then, a sharp wave of nausea rolled through me. My stomach twisted violently.

No. Not now.

I tried to breathe through it, to force it down, but it was useless. The bile rose too fast. My body lurched forward as I turned, desperate to escape.

I staggered into the dining hall, my vision blurring. Matteo’s mother stood near the table, her sharp gaze already locked on me.

Before I could stop it, it happened.

I bent forward and vomited—right on her.

Gasps rippled through the room. The laughter, the casual conversations—everything stopped.

Matteo’s mother stood frozen, her expensive dress stained. Horror twisted her face as she looked down at herself.

Then came the scream.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” she shrieked.

Before I could even catch my breath, Camilla stepped in behind me, her voice dripping with fake concern.

“Oh my God,” she gasped. Then, her lips curled into a wicked smile as she turned to Matteo.

“Your house help whore is pregnant,” she announced, loud enough for the entire room to hear.

A heavy silence fell over the house.

Camilla folded her arms, a victorious glint in her eyes. “She looks pregnant.”

Matteo’s mother turned slowly, her expression darkening.

And just like that, everything exploded.

CHAPTER FOUR

Elena's POV

“How can you keep a whore as a house help? You need to get rid of her!” his mother spat before storming into the bathroom to clean herself.

I stood frozen, my heart pounding.

“Are you okay?” Matteo asked, stepping closer to help me up.

Before I could respond, Camilla’s voice rang out, louder this time, meant for everyone to hear.

“All you do is sleep around! You’re such a slut!”

Murmurs of disgust rippled through the room. I could feel their judgment, their stares burning into me like hot iron. Shame tightened around my chest, suffocating me.

Tears threatened to spill, but I held them back, swallowing the lump in my throat.

Before I could catch my breath, his mother returned, her eyes burning with renewed contempt.

“You can’t work in this family,” she sneered. “You’re so incompetent. You ruined a dress you couldn’t afford in a hundred years.”

Camilla sighed dramatically, stepping forward as if to defend me. “Sorry, Mother. Please ignore her,” she said, but the smirk on her lips betrayed her words. She crossed her arms, tilting her head. “I mean, accidents happen, right? She just… wasn’t raised with proper etiquette.”

A few snickers rippled through the room.

My stomach clenched. “I’m so sorry, ma,” I muttered, my voice barely holding steady. “I didn’t mean to—”

But the humiliation was too much. Without another word, I turned and rushed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me.

A few seconds later, Matteo followed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything back there,” he murmured, his voice soft. “Just ignore them, please. I’m here for you.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead.

I forced a smile, though my chest still felt tight.

“But baby, if you were pregnant, why would you want to keep it to yourself?”

I blinked, frowning. “Exactly. I have no reason to do that—I’m not pregnant.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry. We’ll check with the doctor once we get home.”

He glanced toward the door. “You know Mum needs me. Let me run along.”

***

I didn’t go back inside. Instead, I slipped out onto the balcony, tears burning in my eyes. The cool air did little to ease the ache in my chest. I wished—just for once—that my life could be different. That I could escape this endless cycle of humiliation.

Footsteps approached behind me.

“There you are,” Camilla said smoothly. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

I stiffened but didn’t turn around.

She stepped closer, her voice dripping with mock concern. “If you’re pregnant, you should tell Matteo. Hiding it won’t do you any good.” She leaned in slightly. “Because even if you do, he’ll find out… and when he does, the baby will be killed.”

A cold smirk curled on her lips. “You have nowhere to go,” she added, her tone laced with satisfaction.

The words sliced through me, but before I could respond, she straightened and clapped her hands together.

“Now, get back to the kitchen and do the dishes.”

Then, just like that, she turned and walked away as if I was nothing.

But then, hushed voices caught my attention.

I turned slightly, pressing myself against the railing. Daniel stood just a few feet away, papers clutched tightly in his hands. He was speaking urgently to Matteo, unaware of my presence.

“I just confirmed it,” Daniel said, his voice low but firm. “Camilla is not the president’s daughter.”

My breath hitched.

Matteo stiffened. “What?”

“She was switched at birth,” Daniel continued. “The nurse who did it finally confessed—and it's going viral. She was paid to swap the babies, and the child she replaced…” He exhaled sharply. “It was Elena.”

Shock slammed into me like a tidal wave.

Me.