I bent down, picked up the damn report, and crumpled it in my fist.

Inside, Julia screamed his name. Victor let out a satisfied growl.

I turned and walked away from that hell, my footsteps silent.

The moment I started the engine, the dam broke.

The snow in Chicago was coming down hard, piling up on the windshield.

I floored it. I had to know it all. The whole, ugly truth.

The emergency room was nearly empty on Christmas. The nurse on duty, Sarah, jumped when she saw my red, swollen eyes.

"Mrs. Moretti? What happened?"

"I need my medical records," my voice was ice. "All of them. The IVF files."

"Ma'am, it's Christmas..."

I slapped a stack of cash on the counter.

"Fifty thousand dollars. Pull up the records for my eggs. Now."

Sarah's eyes went wide.

She glanced at the money, then back at my face. The look in my eyes told her this wasn't a request. She opened the computer.

"Maria Moretti's file... oh my god..." her voice trembled.

"Spit it out."

"Ma'am, your eggs... they were never used. The records show that every single IVF attempt used eggs from a... Ms. Julia Romano."

The world went silent.

999 needles. 999 hopes. 999 heartbreaks.

And my eggs were never even touched.

Staring at the truth on the screen, I heard a sound. It was me. Laughing.

"Thank you for your honesty, Sarah."

The snow fell in thick sheets, painting all of Chicago pure white.

Ironic.

This city of sin looked so holy tonight.

I drove home. Every Christmas light on every house was mocking me.

Red, green, and gold mocked me from every house. Every sparkling light was a fresh stab of pain.

Families were celebrating. Together.

And me? A surrogate for my own husband, carrying another woman’s child, crying in a snowstorm.

When the estate came into view, I couldn't believe my eyes.

The whole house was lit up, brighter than I'd ever seen it.

In the living room was a massive Christmas tree. At least twelve feet tall, covered in crystal ornaments and gold ribbons.

It was the tree I had begged for for years.

Every year I'd ask Victor, "Can we get a bigger tree? For our future kids?"

And he'd always say, "Maria, you haven't produced an heir yet. The Elders in the family would talk. We need to be discreet."

Now, a tree worth tens of thousands of dollars stood in the living room.

Not for me. Not for our child. For Julia.

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I saw it. The final heartbreak.

Victor and Julia stood before the tree. A huge cake sat on the table.

In pink icing, it said: "To Our New Beginning."

They blew out the candles together. Then they kissed, long and deep.

Julia wore a white evening gown I’d never seen before, a diamond necklace sparkling under the lights.

That necklace. I’d seen it in a magazine. Half a million dollars.

I’d pointed it out once. "That's beautiful," I'd said.

Victor had replied, "Too flashy. Not for you."

Now it was around Julia's neck.

I slipped into the house. No one noticed me.

From the top of the stairs, I heard Julia’s high, tinkling laughter—a sound that grated on my nerves. "Victor, this is the most perfect Christmas I've ever had."

"This is just the start, my queen. Once our child is born, I'll give you the wedding of the century."

I walked into our bedroom and shut the door.

Everything in this room was his choice.

Deep blue walls, because he liked blue.

A leather sofa, because he found it comfortable.

The huge bookshelf, filled with his business books.

I looked around and realized a brutal truth.

Nothing in this room was me.

Not my taste.

Not my desires.

Not a single trace of my existence.

Even the mirror was his pick, because "the angle is perfect for watching the bed."

Five years of marriage. What did I have to show for it?

A cheating husband?

A child that wasn't mine?

A thousand lonely nights?

I sat on the edge of the bed, my hand on my flat stomach.

An innocent life was growing here.

No matter where the genes came from, it was part of me now.

"I'm sorry, baby," I whispered. "Mommy's getting you out of this hell."

I pulled out my phone and dialed a number.

The best divorce lawyer in New York. Marcus Kane.

It rang three times.

"Kane Law, Christmas emergency line." A tired voice answered.

"Marcus, it's Maria Moretti."

Silence on the other end for a few seconds.

"Maria? What... what's wrong?"

"I want a divorce."

"A divorce? Are you insane? Do you know who your husband is?"

"Of course I do. Don Victor Moretti, the biggest Godfather in Chicago," my voice was pure ice. "So tell me, Marcus. How much will it cost to divorce the biggest monster in Chicago?"

A deep sigh came through the phone.

"Maria... it could cost you your life."

"I don't care about the cost, Marcus," I gripped the phone tighter. "I have to leave him."

I heard the rustle of papers on his end.

"Let's see... your prenup... Jesus, Maria, this isn't a prenup. It's a slave contract."

"What does it say?"

"If you initiate the divorce, you walk away with nothing. Not only that, you owe him fifty million dollars in damages." Marcus's voice was heavy. "Worse, Article Thirteen forbids you from removing any 'asset' belonging to the Moretti family. And Maria, they define an unborn child as an asset."

My blood ran cold.

"But there's one exception," Marcus continued. "If you can prove Victor violated the marital fidelity clause, the contract is void."

"I have proof."

"What kind of proof?"

"I saw him with Julia Romano tonight. And... this baby isn't mine."

"What? You need to explain..."

"Marcus, give me twenty-four hours. I'll get you all the proof you need. For now, just tell me: how do I disappear?"

"Maria, this is dangerous. The Moretti family's tentacles are everywhere in Chicago, even..."

"I know the risks. Tell me how."

Marcus was quiet for a long time.

"You need a new identity. A completely clean background, something that can pass their internal checks. I have a guy..."

"Give me the number."

After hanging up, I went to the closet.

I froze when I opened the doors.

In the massive walk-in, my clothes took up a tiny corner.

A few simple dresses, a couple of basic sweaters, one pair of flats.

The rest of the space belonged to Victor. Rows of custom Armani, bespoke suits from Savile Row—each one worth more than my parents’ house.

My entire wardrobe wouldn't even fill a small suitcase.

Five years of marriage. This was all I had.

I grabbed a small backpack and started packing the basics.

A change of clothes, my passport, and the two hundred thousand dollars in cash I had stashed in a lingerie drawer.

It was money I’d saved, bit by bit, from the allowance Victor gave me.

Looks like that little habit just saved my life.

I took out my phone and dialed the number Marcus gave me.

"Yeah?" a low voice answered.

"I'm a client of Marcus Kane. I need a new ID, something that can..."

The door was suddenly thrown open.

My heart stopped.

Victor stood in the doorway, that familiar, tender smile on his face.

I quickly ended the call, my hand shaking as I hid the phone behind my back.

"Baby, you're back. Why didn't you come find me?" He walked toward me, his eyes searching my face, missing nothing.

"I... I just got in. I was tired, so I came straight upstairs."

"Marco already told me the good news." His smile grew wider. "You're pregnant."

He came closer, his hands framing my face.

"I'm so happy, Maria. Thank you for finally giving me this child."

He leaned down and kissed my lips. It was a kiss of triumph, of satisfaction.

I smiled coldly in my mind.

Of course you're happy, Victor. I'm finally giving you and Julia a baby.

He pulled back and snapped his fingers.

Two maids entered, pushing a small cart.

"A reward for my good girl."

On the cart was a bouquet of roses and a velvet box. Inside was a diamond necklace. It was beautiful, but it was a consolation prize. A cheap copy of the one sparkling on Julia’s throat.

"Like it?" Victor asked, his voice generous, like he was giving charity.

"It's beautiful," I forced a smile.

Even pregnant, even after years of pain for him, what he gave me was still just a fraction of what he gave Julia.

Good thing I was leaving.

"Oh, one more thing," Victor said suddenly. "Julia, come in."

Julia glided into the room. She’d changed into an expensive silk robe.

"There was an... incident at Julia's villa tonight," Victor said, his tone dangerously casual. "She'll be staying here for the foreseeable future. I trust you'll make her feel welcome."

Julia smiled sweetly. "Maria, I hope I'm not intruding. I'll be a great roommate."

I looked at her. This woman. The biological mother of the child in my womb. Moving into my home.

My heart was bleeding.

Was Victor doing this so she could bond with "our" baby early? So she could watch me, make sure the surrogate didn't mess up?

"Of course you're not intruding," my voice was terrifyingly calm. "Welcome, Julia."

"Actually..." Julia said in a delicate voice. "I think the suite next to the master bedroom would be best. That way, if Maria needs anything during the night, I can be right there to help."

The suite next to the master.

The best room in the house besides our own. The one with a private jacuzzi and a sea-view balcony.

She wanted to be as close as possible.

"I think..." I forced another smile. "Someone of her status deserves the best."

Victor nodded, pleased.

"You're so thoughtful, Maria," Julia said, a flash of victory in her eyes. "We're going to be the best of friends."

Friends?

Me and my husband's mistress?

Me and the woman who stole my womb?

"I look forward to it," I said.

The next day, Victor left on business. The huge mansion was empty except for me and Julia.

"Maria, darling." Julia floated down the stairs in a Chanel suit I'd never seen. "I think we should talk."

"About what?"

"About the baby," she said, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "My baby. The one you’re borrowing my womb to carry."

I gripped my teacup.

"It's my baby, too. I'm the one carrying him."

Julia laughed. "Sweetheart, you're just the vessel. A walking, talking incubator. Nothing more."

She walked toward me, her eyes full of contempt.

"Do you know why Victor chose you? Because you're stupid. You're obedient. And you're... cheap."

Every word was a stab to the heart.

"Victor loves me," I retorted weakly.

"Love?" Julia burst out laughing. "He loves me, darling. When he's inside me every night, he's not thinking about you."

I stood up to leave.

Julia grabbed my wrist, her grip like a vise. "Listen here, you little bitch. There is only one mistress of this house, and that's me. You'd better learn your place."

Her nails dug into my skin, drawing blood.

But I held back.

For the baby, I had to.

The next few days were hell.

She instructed the staff to replace my meals with nothing but clear broth. "We have to watch the vessel's weight," she’d announce to the maids, a sickly sweet smile on her face.

She put hair removal cream in my shampoo. I lost a handful of hair.

She told Victor I was emotionally unstable and suggested he restrict me from going out.

Every time, she faked concern.

And I had to endure it all.

Three days later, the fake passport arrived.

Charlotte Evans. Twenty-eight, from Chicago. A nurse.

A clean background. Untraceable.

I hid it under the mattress and waited for my chance.

The chance came sooner than I expected. And it was brutal.

"Maria!" Julia's scream came from downstairs. "You bitch, you broke my necklace!"

I rushed down. She was holding the half-million-dollar diamond necklace. The chain was broken.

"I didn't touch your things."

"Liar!" She lunged at me. "Who else could it be? You're jealous, so you destroyed it!"

"Julia, please, calm down..."

"Calm down? You destroyed my most precious necklace and you tell me to calm down?"

She shoved me, forcing me backward.

"I really didn't..."

"Apologize to me! Get on your knees and apologize!"

We were at the top of the stairs.

Slick marble stairs, covered with an expensive Persian rug.

"Julia, please, I'm pregnant..."

"With MY child!" Her eyes flashed with a mad light. "Maybe... maybe I don't need a surrogate after all!"

Her foot shot out.

My world tilted.

Time stopped.

I saw the vicious satisfaction in her eyes as her lips formed two words: "Goodbye, vessel."

Then I was falling, tumbling down the stairs.

A sharp, ripping pain tore through my belly. I couldn't get air. Then, a warm gush down my legs.

Blood.

Oh God, so much blood.

"Help..." I groaned.

Julia stood at the top of the stairs, dialing her phone. "Quick! Call an ambulance! Maria fell down the stairs!"

Her voice was full of fake panic.

By the time the ambulance arrived, I had lost too much blood. I was fading.

"Patient has severe blood loss, needs surgery now!"

"What about the fetus?"

"Heartbeat is faint, it's not looking good..."

On the way to the operating room, I saw Victor.

His face was pale. His eyes were full of fear for his heir, not for me.

"Doctor, you have to save the baby," he grabbed the doctor's arm. "At any cost."

I closed my eyes.

Amid the chaos of the emergency room, as they prepped me for surgery, I saw my only chance. Fueled by pure terror, I ripped the IV from my arm and ran. Blood soaked through my clothes, but I didn't care. I couldn't go back to that cage. Not ever.

Farther from the hospital, closer to freedom.

I was running for a taxi when my body gave out.

Too much blood loss. The world was going dark.

In the last second before I passed out, I saw a black Rolls-Royce.

A familiar figure stepped out of the car.

"Maria!"