Ten days before my due date, my husband, Victor Russo, brought Sophia Bianchi, the girl he grew up with, back to our home.

He brought her before me, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Sophia is struggling with depression and can't handle any stress. She's always been in love with me, and her family was afraid of what she might do, so they never told her we were married."

"You're my wife. It's your duty to accommodate her. Move into the servants' quarters for now, and to everyone else, you'll just be a servant in the house."

I remained silent and accepted his command. But on my way to the servants' quarters, I ran into Sophia Bianchi.

The moment she saw my swollen belly, she lost control. She shoved me to the ground, screaming.

"Victor! How could you have a child with another woman!"

"If this is how it is, what's the point of me even living!"

With that, she sprinted wildly toward the estate's lake in a desperate suicide attempt.

Aching for her, Victor dragged her from the lake and clutched her tightly, whispering reassurances without a single glance in my direction.

That evening, he brought me a glass of wine as a supposed apology.

"Isabella, we can have another child, but Sophia only has one life."

I packed my things once more.

But this time, I wasn't heading to the servants' quarters.

I was walking toward a hearse waiting outside the gates…

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1

Victor Russo came to my bedside, carrying a glass of wine.

"Isabella, give your luxury fashion studio to Sophia. She's wanted to be a designer since she was a little girl."

But that was ten years of my life's work.

My fingers clenched the sheets as I met his deceptively gentle eyes.

"Besides, you'll be at home recovering for a long time anyway."

"Her emotional state is fragile right now. Keeping busy will do her good. Just let her have this, alright?"

As he spoke, his guilty gaze flickered to the glass of wine.

In that instant, it all clicked into place.

"What about our child?"

Victor didn't dare to look at me.

"Isabella, we can have another child, but Sophia only has one life…"

I lowered my head, a bitter smile touching my lips.

Of course.

He would always choose Sophia Bianchi without hesitation.

Just like before.

Just because Sophia didn't like the sound of my cat's meow, he snapped its neck.

Then he tossed it at her feet and told her, "It's quiet now."

I looked at the man before me and, for the first time, I questioned him.

"And if I say no?"

The man's eyes turned cold in an instant.

"Isabella Summers, get this straight. I'm not negotiating with you."

"If you refuse, I can simply acquire your studio and gift it to Sophia."

He didn't say any more.

But in his icy gaze, I read the unspoken words.

Isabella.

Don't test me.

"Fine, we'll do it your way."

I lowered my gaze, a bitter taste in my mouth, and took the glass from his hand.

Ever since I married Victor Russo, obedience had become my fate.

Whatever he decided, I had no room to resist.

Even this child…

The warm glass seared my palm.

Clinging to a final sliver of hope, I looked up at him.

"I've already agreed about the studio, so this child…"

A look of disgust crossed Victor Russo's face.

"Isabella, you can't be so selfish. Sophia is a living, breathing person."

But so is this child…

In just ten more days, he would see this world.

He was the only bond in our ten-year marriage.

"As long as this child isn't born, he isn't a real person!"

"How can an embryo that doesn't even count as a person compare to Sophia?"

"If you don't drink this, Isabella, don't blame me for tearing that thing out of you with my own two hands."

He looked down on me, his tone chilling.

"Isabella Summers, I can make you my wife, and I can make you a nobody."

Just then, I felt a gentle movement in my belly.

The baby kicked me.

As if to silently tell me, "Mom, I don't want to die."

But Victor Russo's gaze was utterly ruthless.

In the moment I hesitated, he lost all patience. He seized my chin, tipping my head back and forcing the scalding wine down my throat.

The burning liquid slid down my throat like a knife, severing my last hope.

As the wine hit my stomach, a violent churning began, as if something inside me was slowly dying.

I gripped the corner of the blanket, my knuckles turning white, but I didn't make another sound.

The faint fluttering in my womb ceased abruptly, and a pain so deep it felt like my bones were grinding to dust drained the color from my face.

But none of that compared to the pain in my heart.

It hurt until I was numb.

I looked at the man before me.

When he met my despairing eyes, a flicker of panic was evident in his.

"Isabella, don't worry, I'll make it up to you afterward. You are, after all, the person I love most."

I lowered my eyes, unwilling to look at him any longer.

From the next room, Sophia Bianchi's cries erupted again. Victor abandoned me without a second thought and hurried away.

I watched his disappearing back.

I collapsed onto the bed, my heart a hollow cavern of ash.

Victor Russo.

I hope you remember this.

The final bond between us was severed by your own hand.

The night I lost the baby, I writhed in agony in what used to be our marital bed.

Blood soaked the sheets, the searing pain tearing screams from my throat.

The door was ajar, and I could hear Sophia throwing a tantrum next door.

"Victor, she's so loud! Like some alley cat in heat!"

"Trying to seduce men even while she's pregnant, what a slut!"

Victor held her, patiently coaxing her in a soft voice.

"As long as it doesn't upset you, that's all that matters. I'll have someone shut her up…"

A few minutes later, several servants burst into my room.

They swarmed me, holding me down and stuffing a dirty rag into my mouth.

Victor walked over. Seeing my wretched state, he frowned, his voice cold.

"Isabella, Sophia is a patient. She needs quiet. Are you trying to kill her with all this noise?"

"Since you can't control your own mouth, I'll have to help you. Consider it… penance. It might bring you better luck with the next child."

I was on the verge of fainting from the pain, but I shook my head desperately.

I wanted to say that I would never have another child.

But I couldn't speak, my mouth filled with the coppery taste of blood and the foulness of the rag.

Suddenly, Sophia's fragile cry came from the next room.

"Victor! Is she playing the victim again? Is she still trying to steal you away from me?"

"Are you leaving me? If you leave me, I can't live for a single minute. I might as well just die!"

Victor panicked. Just as he was about to rush next door, a maid, unable to watch any longer, stepped forward.

She told Victor I was losing too much blood, that my condition was critical. If he didn't call the family doctor, I would die.

Victor hesitated for only a moment before once again siding with Sophia.

He pointed a cold finger at me. "Isabella Summers, you've really outdone yourself! Faking a miscarriage just to compete for my attention!"

"You're perfectly healthy, and you're competing with a sick woman. How pathetic can you be?"

"You've gone too far!"

With that, he turned and walked away without a backward glance.

I listened to his footsteps fade, a river of blood flowing beneath me, my limbs growing cold.

The maid couldn't stand it and wanted to run out and drag him back.

I managed a weak shake of my head.

Compassion finally won out, and she removed the rag from my mouth.

I asked her to help me contact a funeral home.

The person on the other end was surprised by my call.

But I knew my own body better than anyone.

"Hello. I need to arrange a collection in three days. Two bodies. One adult female, one full-term fetus."

"Yes, I want to donate everything."

There was a pause on the other end.

"I'm sorry, but because you are married, body donation requires the signed consent of your spouse…"

A desolate smile curved my lips as I closed my eyes. A moment later, I spoke with absolute certainty.

"No problem."

"He will sign it."

After hanging up, I couldn't hold on any longer. I collapsed into the pool of blood on the bed and passed out completely.

Until…

I don't know how much time had passed.

I was ripped from my stupor by Victor, his hands shaking me roughly.

He looked down at me, his tone impatient.

"Isabella, Sophia wants to eat the spaghetti you make. Get up, now!"

"Stop playing dead! She's sick right now. If the spaghetti isn't to her liking and she starts crying again, can you bear the consequences!"