I gave my husband four children. I lost three of them.

Through every heartbreak, he held me and convinced me to try just one more time.

Even when the doctors warned another pregnancy could kill me, I risked my life for him.

Then, I overheard a conversation that shattered my world.

“Mr. Blackwood, the results are negative,” the doctor said. “Your newborn daughter is not a kidney match for Miss Sterling’s child.”

My husband’s reply was ice cold. “Another useless one. Looks like I’ll have to dispose of her, just like the other three.”

He didn't just break my heart; he turned our nursery into a graveyard.

He and his lover owe a debt. And I'm here to collect.

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1

I strolled down the pristine hospital corridor, carrying afternoon tea for my husband, Dario Blackwood.

I was just about to reach him when I overheard his conversation with the doctor. My feet were rooted to the spot.

“What about the kidney match results for Emma?” That was Dario’s voice.

The doctor’s reply was blunt. “Mr. Blackwood, the results are negative. Your newborn daughter, Sophia, is not a match for her.”

Dario let out a cold, sharp laugh. The sound was pure ice.

“Another useless one. Looks like I’ll have to deal with her, just like the other three.”

Ice flooded my veins. I continued to listen more.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

He actually killed our three children through...poison?

All this time, his desperation to have children with me wasn’t about building our family. It was about creating a kidney donor for Emma, the daughter he had with his mistress, Nora Sterling.

Tears flooded my eyes. I clamped a hand over my mouth, choking back a sob.

Just then, I heard Dario’s footsteps approaching. I ducked into a nearby restroom, my body wracked with tremors.

My mind raced to my one-month-old daughter, Sophia.

This morning, Dario had told me he was taking her for a routine newborn check-up, insisting I stay home and rest.

It wasn’t a check-up. It was a goddamn organ compatibility test.

Panic clawed at my throat. I had to get my baby back.

I flew out of the restroom just as Dario was walking out of the doctor’s office, holding Sophia.

I wiped my tears, forcing myself to look calm as I walked toward him.

He was cooing softly at Sophia. In a flash, I lunged forward and snatched her from his arms.

Thank God, she seemed fine, apart from a tiny pinprick on her little arm.

“Honey, what are you doing here?” Dario’s voice was as gentle as ever. He reached out to pull me into his arms. “You shouldn’t be out of bed. You still need to recover.”

This was Dario, the man I’d been married to for six years.

For six years, he had been the perfect husband. I was a well-regarded interior designer, he was the CEO of a top tech firm. To the world, we were the perfect couple.

He wanted children the moment we got married.

In six years, I gave him four children. Three of them died tragically young.

Each time, he held me and comforted me, telling me we were young, that we could always try again.

So I kept getting pregnant. I kept giving him children.

After losing three babies, my body was a wreck. My doctor warned me another pregnancy could be life-threatening.

But I did it anyway. I wanted to give him the child he so desperately craved.

And now I knew the truth. It was never for us. It was for Nora’s daughter.

“I just missed you so much,” I said, my eyes red.

I’ve always been good at controlling my emotions, and this time was no different.

Dario didn’t suspect a thing. He kissed my forehead.

“Let’s get you home, sweetheart. I can’t have my baby girl getting worn out.” He smiled, taking my hand, but his eyes kept darting toward Sophia in my arms.

On the drive home, I dug my nails into my thigh, using the pain to stay calm.

I thought of my three lost children. The babies I had carried for nine months and brought into this world.

They were supposed to grow up happy and healthy.

Instead, their own father had murdered them with poison.

I swear, Dario. You will pay for this in blood.

The moment we got home, I told Dario I was exhausted and took Sophia straight to the bedroom.

I needed to think.

Why me? Why did Dario choose me to bear his children for spare parts?

The only logical explanation was that Emma was his biological daughter. He believed a child we had together would have the highest chance of being a match.

I looked at the three baby photos hanging on the wall. Wiping away a fresh tear, I whispered, “Don’t worry, my sweet babies. Mommy will get justice for you.”

They say love is blind. Well, mine had just been ripped wide open.

Over the next few weeks, I focused on regaining my strength.

Once I felt better, I asked my mom to help with Sophia, using my design work as an excuse.

The first thing I did was track down Nora.

Nora, Dario’s “true love.” She was a senior nurse at a children’s hospital. They had dated for years before suddenly breaking up, after which Dario married me in a heartbeat.

Looking back, it was painfully clear. He married me to be a human incubator.

Nora was still at the hospital with Emma. Dario had mentioned it, so she wasn't hard to find.

When I arrived, she was in Emma’s room, kissing her daughter.

“Emma, soon you’ll be able to live like a normal kid,” she said softly.

Her daughter’s “normal” life was built on the foundation of my four pregnancies and three dead children.

A child is a mother’s everything.

I was barely thirty, and I had already lost three.

I clenched my fists, my heart a knot of grief and rage.

Composing myself, I walked into the room with a gift bag.

Nora looked up, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard Emma’s surgery is happening soon. I just wanted to see how she was doing,” I said quietly.

“When did you get so nice?” Nora eyed me with suspicion.

I couldn’t blame her. We’d fought more than once, usually because I was jealous of how close she and Dario were. I’d even caught them having dinner together and caused a huge scene.

“I’m done fighting,” I said, feigning defeat. “Dario’s heart is with you. I’m not going to compete anymore.”

“If you want to be Mrs. Blackwood, I’ll step aside.”

As I spoke, I casually swiped Emma’s used toothbrush from the side table while Nora was distracted.

She was still skeptical. “You loved Dario so much. You’re just giving up?”

“There’s no point in loving someone who doesn’t love me back. I’m just… tired. If you don’t believe me, you and Emma can move in with us. I won’t get in your way.”

With that, I left.

I knew she’d take the bait.

Dario had suggested it before, saying it was hard for a single mom. I had shut it down immediately.

I took the toothbrush to a lab and had a DNA test done against a sample of Dario’s.

An hour later, I had my answer.

Just as I suspected. Emma was his daughter.

I gripped the report, my heart feeling like it was being shredded to ribbons.

All these years, I was nothing more than a baby factory to him.

But at least I knew the truth before it was too late.

When I got home, Dario had dinner waiting.

He pulled me into a beaming hug. “I heard you told Nora she could move in. Scarlett, thank you for understanding.”

I had never seen him look so genuinely happy.

I hugged him back. “Of course. As a woman, I understand how hard it must be for her.”

“Of course,” he repeated, grinning from ear to ear.

Just then, Nora and Emma arrived.

Dario’s face lit up. He swept Emma into his arms. “Emma! I made all your favorites!”

He cared so much for Nora’s child, while my own children were less than worthless to him.

In that moment, my heart shattered for the last time.

Nora shot me a sideways glance. “Glad you finally know your place,” she whispered.

I gave her a faint smile. “Then you’d better hurry up and sink your claws into him for good.”

That night, I thought Dario would be with Nora.

Instead, he came into our bedroom.

He wrapped his arms around me from behind, his hot hands sliding under my nightgown as he pressed his lips to my ear.

“Baby, you’ve recovered. We can finally…” His breath was heavy, his hands already starting to wander.

“No. The doctor said I need to rest for at least three months,” I said, pushing him away.

“Don’t be a buzzkill, Scarlett. I want you. Now,” he insisted, pressing against me again.

“I’m not in the mood.” I pointed to the three photos on the wall. “Thinking about them hurts too much.”

His eyes followed my finger. His pupils shrank, and all the color drained from his face. He scrambled off the bed.

“Why are you bringing them up?”

“They’re gone. You need to stop thinking about them.”

He slammed the door on his way out.

It was the first time he’d ever been truly angry with me.

I knew why he was angry.

He was guilty.

How could he not be, after poisoning three of his own children?

I lay in bed and started to plot.

The next morning, I heard their hushed, eager voices.

“Dario, I’m so happy I can see you every day. I’ve missed you so much.”

“Nora, I’ve missed you too. Let me in.”

Dario’s voice was thick with urgency.

I slipped my phone under the door and recorded everything.

Soon, the stress got to Dario. He couldn’t sleep.

I started adding a little something to his morning coffee. A mild hallucinogen.

That night, he stumbled out of his study, grabbing me in a panic.

“Scarlett! I saw them! They’re back! Our babies!”

He was babbling nonsense before collapsing in a dead faint.

But that was just the beginning.

I hired a few child actors, all around the ages my children would have been.

Late that night, as Dario woke up from another nightmare, the “children” appeared at his bedroom door.

“Daddy, we want our lives back,” a small voice echoed in the silent house.

He was terrified, clutching his head and trembling.

“Go away! It wasn’t me!”

“Daddy, we’re so cold. Why did you put poison in our milk?”

He shattered.

“It was me! I poisoned your milk! The proof is in my safe! Please, just leave me alone!”

With that, he fainted again.

Pathetic.

I went straight to his study and found the safe.

But I immediately hit a snag.

It required a fingerprint and a password.

And only two people knew the password: Dario and his sister, Aria Blackwood.