He Killed My Three Babies , So I Destroyed Him at His Own Gala

When I started my husband Piers Stephens's car, I activated the navigation system. "Take me home."

"Navigating to 'Family of Three.'"

The unfamiliar address caught me off guard.

Then I remembered the surprise he'd promised when he found out I was pregnant, and I smiled.

Four years of marriage. Three miscarriages.

This time, we would finally become the family of three we'd always dreamed of.

At a red light, a notification flashed across my phone.

"Stephens Corp CEO Piers Stephens critically injured!"

My heart seized. I tapped the headline immediately.

"Stephens Corp CEO gravely wounded after heroic rescue. Condition critical..."

A ringing filled my ears. Tears blurred my vision.

No. He was going to be fine.

We were about to have our baby. Our child and I couldn't lose him.

I called him ninety-nine times. No answer.

I pulled up his location and found he was at the address the navigation had mentioned: "Family of Three."

Confusion cut through my panic. Why wasn't he at a hospital?

On the hundredth call, he finally picked up. He said he needed a million dollars for surgery.

I'd just arrived at the neighborhood and decided to give it to him in person.

But as I reached the front door, I heard his voice.

"One fake news story, and the last million is about to land. All her assets are yours now."

Piers Stephens stood perfectly unharmed, his arms wrapped around my stepsister Julie Harding, pressing a kiss to her swollen belly.

"Once she signs the divorce papers, we'll be a real family of three."

Julie laughed, sweet and coy. "That idiot. You could put anything in front of her and she'd sign it. The asset transfers, the consent form to pull the plug on her mother..."

Bile surged up my throat. I clamped both hands over my mouth.

So that was his "heroic rescue."

The man I'd loved for four years hadn't just betrayed me. He'd killed my mother.

In that moment, I finally woke up.

What he didn't know was that the transfer agreement contained a clause.

The moment we divorced, every asset reverted to me automatically.

I wiped my tears and called my grandmother.

"I'm pregnant, but he's betrayed me. In one week, I'm leaving him and keeping this baby."

...

I sat in the car, silently repeating the name of the destination.

"Family of Three."

Four years of marriage. Three losses that had shattered us to the core.

The first time, days before my due date, I stepped on a loose screw and tumbled down the stairs. That same night, Piers fired every servant in the house, his eyes red-rimmed with fury.

The second time, at eight months, a neighbor's dog went berserk and lunged at my belly. By the next morning, Piers had made that family vanish without a trace.

The third time, a car accident nearly destroyed my ability to ever conceive again. Piers brought in a top-tier legal team and put the driver behind bars for life.

Yet none of it eased the grief that consumed him.

Every time I got pregnant, he would set up the nursery with his own hands. Every time I miscarried, I could hear him behind that closed door, choking back sobs he thought I couldn't hear.

Now I was pregnant again.

At a red light, my phone buzzed.

I glanced down casually, and my pupils contracted.

BREAKING: Stephens Corp CEO Piers Stephens critically injured!

My hands shook as I tapped through to the article. "Stephens Corp CEO gravely wounded after heroic rescue. Condition critical."

Cold washed through my entire body. A low ringing filled my ears.

Memories flashed before my eyes: the way he'd cried before I did when I accepted his proposal. The way he'd held himself together to comfort me after each miscarriage, only to fall apart when he thought he was alone. The way he'd wanted to hold me when he learned I was pregnant again, but stopped himself, terrified he might hurt me...

Was our baby going to grow up without a father?

Was our dream of becoming a family of three going to die before it ever began?

"No... please, no..."

A blaring horn pierced the air behind me. The light had turned green.

I pulled the car to the curb and dialed his number over and over, frantic.

Ninety-nine calls. Not a single answer.

On the verge of collapse, I suddenly remembered I'd set up location sharing on his phone.

I pulled up his coordinates, and the pin dropped on the navigation's destination: Family of Three.

My heart sank like a stone.

Had he been hurt while setting up my surprise?

Then why hadn't he gone to a hospital?

I started the engine and floored the accelerator.

No matter what it cost, I would not let anything happen to him.

I'd barely pulled up outside the gated community when the hundredth call finally connected.

"Piers! I saw the news. How bad is it?"

"I'm okay." His voice was barely a thread. "I'm sorry. You're pregnant... I didn't want you to worry."

Tears splashed onto the steering wheel. I couldn't speak through the sobs.

Even now, even like this, he was comforting me.

"Sweetheart, I'm about to go into surgery. I need a million dollars for the operation."

The line went dead.

I didn't stop to think. I was about to transfer the money when the location screen, still open on my phone, made me freeze.

On the map, two pins sat nearly on top of each other.

Which meant that call had come from the villa just ahead.

How could he possibly have surgery here?

My fear peaked. I threw the car door open and ran.

I had to see with my own eyes that he was safe.

But the moment I reached the villa's entrance, I heard Piers Stephens's voice. And he was laughing.

"One fake news story, and the last million is about to land. All her assets are yours now. We can take our baby and finally be a real family of three."

Through the gap in the half-open door, I saw Piers Stephens with his arms around a woman. Not a scratch on him.

The world tilted. My first instinct, pathetically, was to make excuses for him.

Could there be some misunderstanding?

Then he leaned down and kissed her on the lips, and every pitiful illusion I'd been clinging to shattered.

The woman let out a soft, satisfied hum. "She's still so easy to fool. Last time she literally saw me run her down, and you told her she was remembering it wrong, and she actually believed you!"

Every drop of blood in my body turned to ice.

That voice. I would know it if I were dead.

My stepsister. Julie Harding.

A crushing ache spread through my chest. I stared at Piers, unable to comprehend what I was seeing.

He knew better than anyone what Julie Harding had done to me.