The Surrogate Wife's Revenge Ends In Checkmate

At the wedding, right in the middle of the ring exchange, the massive screen in the ballroom flickered to life at once.

A high-definition video suddenly began to play. Lindsay Burton was bound to a chair, her outfit rumpled, one side of her face visibly bruised, tears pooling in her eyes in sheer desperation.

The whispers among the guests quickly swelled into audible chatter.

Judgmental glances came at her from all sides, sharp and merciless.

"Those thugs probably took their turns…"

"How can this ceremony possibly continue after this?"

Not a single person believed the thugs hadn't actually touched her.

Mockery, contempt, and public disgrace rained down on her all at once.

A dizzying sensation descended over Lindsay. Her balance faltered, and she began to fall backward.

Before she could hit the floor, a firm arm caught her, accompanied by a scent she knew all too well.

When she raised her eyes, she found herself staring into the impassive eyes of her soon-to-be husband, Tyler Hardy.

He paid no attention to the others. Without a word, he helped her regain her footing.

Turning, he drew a gun from inside his suit and pointed it upward.

The crystal chandelier trembled from the impact, shards scattering in all directions.

The entire ballroom fell into stunned silence.

Afterward, he turned back to Lindsay and extended his hand, the ring poised between his fingers.

"Marry me," he said.

Lindsay's tears spilled over instantly. Shaking, she stretched out her hand and blurted, "Yes."

Over the following three years, he treated her with unwavering gentleness.

He was aware that the incident at their wedding had left her deeply traumatized and that the emotional damage had affected her ability to become pregnant.

He never placed any pressure on her. Instead, he would simply say, "You matter most."

Still, they remained childless and she wanted more and more to bear his children as time went by.

On that particular day, Lindsay finally reached a decision. She was ready to pursue IVF.

When she went to the hotel to see Tyler and share the news, she overheard his close friend, Gerald Walsh, teasing him from inside a room with the door slightly ajar.

"Tyler, you're unbelievable. When that video came up at the wedding, everyone assumed you'd call it off. Instead, you went through with the marriage and acted so loving that Lindsay completely believed you."

Tyler's light chuckle wafted out through the crack in the door. "She did save my life once. I owed her something at least."

"But marrying her wasn't necessary. Not when she's damaged goods."

"If I married Lindsay first, it'd make things easier for Jenna when she joins the family later. My mom won't give her a hard time." Tyler spoke as casually as if he were discussing the weather. "Besides, Jenna can't have kids. Lindsay's uterus is ideal for carrying one for her. If Lindsay becomes our surrogate, that'll be the most useful thing she ever does."

A chorus of approving laughter followed, echoing from the room.

The sound hit Lindsay like a thunderclap.

"Tyler, that plan was really brilliant. Showing that video in front of everyone at the wedding? After that, your mom was bound to favor Jenna."

Swirling the liquor in his glass, Tyler gave a faint, cold smile and said, "Everyone thinks she's violated, and I'm the only one willing to accept her. That kind of gratitude tends to outlast love."

He took a sip, and then continued, "Once the IVF succeeds and she delivers the baby, she'll have served her purpose."

Lindsay stood outside the private room, completely dumbstruck.

She clenched her fists so tightly that her nails, pressed into her palms, nearly drew blood. Yet she felt nothing at all.

So all of Tyler's affection over the years had been nothing more than an elaborate performance?

And he had been the one behind the video that made everyone look down on her?

A chilling possibility crossed her mind.

Was he responsible for the kidnapping as well?

Inside, the jokes and laughter continued.

"That's ruthless, man. Switching her prenatal vitamins with birth control so she wouldn't get pregnant? Once she thought she couldn't conceive, IVF became her only option. If she ever finds out those embryos belong to you and Jenna, she'll probably break down instantly."

"Whether she breaks down or not is irrelevant to me," Tyler said coldly, interrupting Gerald. "If she gets to carry a child for Jenna, she should consider it an honor."

He brought his glass down hard against the table and swept his eyes across the room, his eyes sharp enough to cut.

"I need Lindsay to stay compliant and carry these twins to full term." He paused deliberately, every word dripping with menace. "If even a single word of this leaves this room tonight…"

Gerald smirked. "Take it easy, Tyler. She's just an idiot. We show her the bare minimum of respect, pretend she's important, and she believes it every time. She probably still thinks that video turning up at your wedding was some kind of accident."

Someone nearby let out a snicker. "Gerald, why didn't you choose me back then? I wouldn't have minded having a go at her."

Before he could finish speaking, a knife sliced through the air past his groin and lodged itself into the floor.

The man's face turned pale white with horror.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" Tyler asked, his voice so calm it was far more terrifying than if he had shouted. "Lindsay is still legally my wife. Mention something like that again, and I'll ruin you."

Gerald forced out a laugh. "Tyler, we were only joking because we assumed you were already tired of her… But with the way you treat her, aren't you afraid she'll walk away if she ever learns the truth?"

Tyler gave a derisive chuckle. "Please. She's completely obsessed with me. Even if she finds out, what difference does it make? A few sweet words, and she'll come running back like a loyal dog."

Standing by the doorway, Lindsay felt lightheaded.

The metallic scent of blood from that stormy night three years earlier seemed to flood back into her senses.

Back then, Tyler had collapsed against her, drenched in blood.

She had dragged him out with the last of her strength, only to fall into the hands of those monsters herself.

For three days and two nights, they tortured her until she was almost unrecognizable.

When she was finally found, Tyler had clutched her hand, his eyes rimmed red, and said earnestly, "Lindsay, I'll protect you for the rest of your life. I won't ever fail you. Not in this lifetime."

She had trusted him.

She had staked whatever remained of her life on that vow.

Later, he brought Jenna Oliver to meet her, introducing her as his orphaned cousin, someone with no one else to depend on, and asked Lindsay to look after her for him.

Lindsay felt sorry for her. She genuinely treated Jenna as though she were her own younger sister.

How absurd!

With her own hands, she had cleared the path—a path carved with her own suffering so Jenna could step into her place beside Tyler as his wife.

And what did that make her to Tyler?

Nothing more than a means to an end, a womb for the woman he truly loved.

And she was even expected to feel thankful for the role.

Each breath she took felt labored and painful, as though something inside her was tearing her apart.

Tyler planned to make her carry a child for his mistress?

He could keep wishing.

For everything they had put her through, she would make them repay it a hundred times over.

Forcing her stiff, unresponsive legs to move, she stepped back once, and then again.

But the moment she moved, the old motion-sensor light above crackled with a harsh burst of static.

It wasn't loud, but in the stillness of the hallway, it sounded deafening.

The laughter inside the private room stopped immediately.

Tyler's cold voice boomed through the door. "What was that outside?"

Lindsay's body moved before she could think.

She turned and ran toward the stairwell.

Behind her, she heard the private room door being yanked open.

She lunged forward with all her strength.

Just as her fingers were about to grasp the stairwell door handle, the entire hallway—no, the entire hotel—plunged into darkness.

Every light went out at once.

At the same instant, a hand appeared from the dark and sealed itself over her mouth and nose.

Another arm wrapped tightly around her waist like iron and pulled her back against a chest that was solid and burning with heat.

Her breath was cut off in her throat.

A sharp scent of cedar, laced with the lingering trace of whisky, filled her senses completely.

Then a low, unfamiliar male voice sounded near her ear.

"Don't move. If you want to stay alive, do exactly as I say."