"This miscarriage should be my turn," Julie pouted, her voice dripping with petulance. "You handled the first two. I should get the next two. That's only fair!"

Piers pinched her nose and smiled. "Whatever you want."

I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted blood, swallowing the scream clawing up my throat.

Every miscarriage had been orchestrated. Every single one.

The bone-deep agony of losing my children was nothing more than a scoreboard in their sick little game.

During the car accident that caused my third miscarriage, I had seen Julie. I knew I'd seen her.

But when I woke up, Piers swore my memory was scrambled from the trauma.

And I believed him. I believed he would never lie to me about something like that.

Reality delivered the cruelest blow imaginable.

He hadn't just lied. He was the one who murdered my children.

Piers leaned down and pressed his lips to Julie's belly, his eyes shining with a tenderness I had never once seen directed at me.

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

Julie let out a derisive laugh. "That idiot signs whatever you put in front of her. Asset transfer agreements, the consent form to withdraw her mother's life support. All of it."

Something detonated inside my skull.

Five years ago, Julie had run my mother down and left her in a vegetative state.

I had poured every ounce of myself into caring for her, but two years later her organs failed and she was gone.

On all those sleepless nights when I lay awake drowning in guilt, convinced I hadn't done enough, it was Piers who held me close and told me it wasn't my fault.

Now they were telling me her death was their design too.

He tricked me into signing away my mother's life.

Rage and despair shattered every last thread of restraint. I slammed the door open, seized Julie's wrist, and squeezed. "Say that again. Was it true?"

Julie shrieked. "Geraldine! You're hurting me!"

Piers's expression darkened. He shoved me away without hesitation.

My lower back cracked against the edge of the table. White-hot pain shot up my spine.

He looked down at me with undisguised irritation. "Geraldine. Stop making a scene."

"Making a scene?" My voice shook. "Then explain. The consent form to withdraw life support. My babies. Were you two behind all of it? And weren't you supposed to be in a car accident?"

"You've been too anxious lately. You're having delusions." Piers furrowed his brow, his concern as convincing as it was hollow. "Losing the baby devastated me just as much as it did you. And there was no consent form. That never happened."

"As for the accident," he sighed, the picture of patient indulgence, "you ruined the surprise, but I know you didn't mean to. I don't blame you."

His gaze was steady and open, as though I were the unreasonable one.

So this was how he saw me. Even caught red-handed, he was certain I was stupid enough to be talked out of what I'd heard with my own ears.

Tears spilled before I could stop them. A second later, a vicious cramp tore through my lower abdomen.

The familiar terror of miscarriage flooded every nerve. "The baby... call an ambulance!"

Piers's voice turned cold and accusing. "This is exactly why you can never carry to term. You're too impulsive."

"No..." The pain shredded my words. Warmth spread between my legs, and I looked down to see blood.

His pupils contracted. Finally, with a reluctant frown, he reached for his phone.

But Julie let out a wail. "Piers! My stomach hurts so badly. Did Geraldine push me? Is that why—"

The color drained from his face. He hurled the phone aside. "I'm taking you to the hospital!"

He scooped her into his arms and bolted for the door. He never looked back.

But I saw his face before he turned. The panic. The anguish. All of it real.

None of it for me.

The door slammed shut, and the last fragile shard of hope inside me shattered into dust.

We were both at risk of losing a pregnancy. For me, he had nothing but blame and impatience. For Julie, he gave every ounce of worry and devotion he possessed.

Through the blinding pain, hatred kept me conscious. I dragged my phone closer and dialed emergency services, then called my attorney.

"Draw up a divorce agreement. And hire someone to investigate Piers Stephens." My voice trembled, but it did not waver. "One week. That's all I need to take everything he has."

The ambulance arrived in time. The baby survived.

I spent three days in the hospital. It wasn't until the day I was discharged that I received a call from Piers.

"You've had your little tantrum long enough, haven't you? There's a reception tonight. You're coming with me."

So that was it. Three days of complete silence, and he'd assumed I was sulking. That the cold shoulder was deliberate punishment for my so-called rebellion.

I wanted to refuse, but the hostess, Mrs. Xu, had been one of my mother's closest friends. I couldn't not go.

At the reception, Piers played his usual role to perfection, intercepting every glass of wine offered my way. The women around us practically swooned.

"Mr. Stephens is so attentive. He never lets his wife touch a single drop."

"Remember that fool who tried to pressure Mrs. Stephens into drinking? He flipped on the spot. Who would've guessed that a man with such impeccable composure would put someone in the hospital over it?"

"That's what they say. Love your wife and the fortune follows. Just look at how far Stephens Corp has come!"

I smiled through all of it, but the smile never reached my eyes.

The devotion they envied was nothing more than a carefully constructed illusion. Only I knew what filthy betrayal and calculation lurked behind it.

The words had barely settled when Julie glided over on the arm of a date.

"Hey, sis. Hey, brother-in-law." She leaned into her companion's shoulder with practiced intimacy. "Let me introduce you. This is my boyfriend."

Piers's smile froze. A sharp crack split the air as the champagne flute shattered in his bare hand.

He seized Julie by the arm and wrenched her away from the man. "Come with me."

"Piers, what are you doing?!"

He said nothing. His face was ashen as he dragged her away, leaving the entire room buzzing.

I had no interest in cleaning up their mess. I slipped out during the commotion.

The evening breeze on the terrace swept away the noise of the banquet hall, but it carried something else: voices, sharp and furious, from just around the corner.

"Weren't you the one who wanted to draw the line? So why do you care what I do?!"

Piers's voice was glacial. "You're carrying my child, and you have the nerve to parade around with another man?"

"So what? My boyfriend doesn't mind. He'll raise this baby as his own!"

"Over my dead body." Piers turned to go after the man, but stopped short when he spotted me standing in the shadows.

Something shifted behind his eyes. He glanced at Julie, then closed the distance between us in one stride and crushed his mouth against mine.

The kiss was brutal and cold. Revulsion rippled through me like an electric shock.

I fought to pull away, but his arm locked around my waist like a vise.

Humiliation crashed over me in waves. He was using me. Using me as a prop to provoke Julie.

Right on cue, a choked sob rose behind him. Emboldened, Piers pressed harder, yanking down my dress strap and shoving his hand beneath the fabric.

"Let go of me!" I snarled, but he only tightened his grip.

Then came the sound of approaching chaos.

Julie had brought an audience. A crowd of guests surged toward the terrace, her trembling voice leading the charge. "I saw a man drag my sister out here! Someone please help her!"

Piers froze. He fumbled to pull my gown back into place and stepped in front of me.

"Get out!"

The guests recognized him, and nervous laughter rippled through the group.

"Oh, it's just Mr. Stephens!"

"The lovebirds were having a moment. Ms. Harding, you had us worried over nothing!"

Julie's tears streamed freely. "I'm so sorry, sis. I was just worried about you..."

Piers saw right through her jealousy, and he couldn't hide his satisfaction. "That's enough. Don't cause a scene next time."

Before he could finish, Julie's eyes rolled back and she collapsed.

"Julie!" His pupils contracted. The cold indifference he'd worn while using me vanished in an instant, replaced by raw panic and desperate tenderness.

He didn't hesitate for a single second. He dropped me, scooped Julie into his arms, and charged out of the banquet hall. "Call an ambulance!"

The moment he let go, my gown slipped free and pooled around me. Bare skin flashed under the chandelier light.

I grabbed for the fabric, but it was already too late.

Camera flashes erupted like a hailstorm, so blinding I couldn't keep my eyes open.

"Stop! Don't!" I shielded myself uselessly. "Stop taking pictures!"

No one listened. I clutched the gown to my body, fingernails digging through the fabric and into my palms.

Through the relentless storm of shutter clicks, I stared in the direction Piers had disappeared, and the hatred inside me grew like thorned vines wrapping around every rib.

Piers Stephens. Everything you did to me tonight, I will repay tenfold in three days.

The whispers and camera shutters wove together into a suffocating net, tightening around me until I could barely breathe.

"That's enough!" A cool, commanding male voice cut through the chaos and tore the net wide open.

I turned toward the sound. "Joseph Simmons?"

He stood tall in a perfectly tailored suit, every line of him sharp and composed, his features carrying an air of cold refinement.

His bodyguards cleared the crowd in seconds. He slipped off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders. "Let me get you out of here."

I blinked, then nodded.

He swept me up in his arms and carried me all the way to his car.

Warm air flooded the interior, chasing the chill from my skin. He handed me a bottle of water, his voice low and gentle. "Those photos won't see the light of day, Ms. Harding. You have my word."

My throat was raw. "Thank you."

He let out a quiet laugh. "Don't mention it. I simply couldn't stand watching someone who once beat me fall this low."

Joseph's company had always been Stephens Corp's fiercest rival. Years ago, I'd snatched several key projects right out from under him. After I stepped back from the company, his firm had become the thorn in Piers's side that he could never pull free.

The realization hit me like a bolt of lightning. This man could help me.

The water bottle crackled under my grip. I knew that once I opened my mouth, there would be no turning back.

But then I thought of my mother's death. The three babies I'd never gotten to hold. Every last humiliation I'd swallowed.

My gaze hardened. "Mr. Simmons, I want to propose a partnership."

"A partnership?" Joseph raised an eyebrow.

I summoned every ounce of courage I had left, burning my bridges behind me. "I have intimate knowledge of Stephens Corp's lifelines and criminal evidence against Piers Stephens. I can help you dismantle his empire."

"In return, you help me leave him with nothing."

"Why me?" he asked.

I knew the answer all too well. Evidence meant nothing against power.

Piers's roots ran deep, and I had no one behind me. Not a single soul. Not even my own family would lift a finger.

When Julie ran over my mother and left her in a vegetative state, I'd taken her to court. My father, using his authority as her husband, had signed a victim's pardon letter on my mother's behalf and gotten Julie off scot-free. Even at my mother's funeral, he'd stood there defending Julie, scolding me in front of everyone for refusing to let the past go.

The only person I could think of who had both the means and the motive to go toe-to-toe with Piers was Joseph Simmons.

A bitter smile twisted my lips. "You're the only chance I have."

Joseph didn't press further. His gaze locked onto mine, sharp as a hawk's. "I'll help you. But in exchange, you do one thing for me. No questions asked."

"What is it?" I asked, guard instantly up.

The corner of his mouth curved. "I'll tell you when the time comes."

I drew a deep breath. I had nothing left to lose. What was there to be afraid of?

"Deal."

When I got home and pushed open the door, I was met with Piers's dark, thunderous expression.

"Where the hell have you been?" His tone was sharp. "You had a wardrobe malfunction on camera and then you just wander off? Do you have any idea how embarrassing that is?"

I scoffed. "You're the one who set me up. She's the one who made sure everyone was there to watch. And you both walked out and left me behind. But somehow I'm the one who should be embarrassed?"

He had nothing to say to that. After a long pause, his voice softened. "About what happened earlier. Julie and I want to take you to dinner to make it up to you. Tomorrow—"

"No need." I cut him off and turned to leave, but his hand clamped down on my shoulder.

Piers was clearly losing patience with my attitude. He forced his temper down, barely. "I know you're upset. But Julie is young. I can't just abandon her. If it really bothers you, I'll keep my distance from her after this one dinner. All right?"

"No need. It doesn't bother me." My voice was flat.

"It doesn't bother you?" Whatever patience he had left snapped. "Stop throwing tantrums! Julie is pregnant. Don't go upsetting her. You're coming to dinner tomorrow, and that's final. Are we clear?"

I said nothing. My hand drifted to my own stomach.

I was pregnant too.

But in his eyes, only Julie's feelings mattered. Mine weren't even worth considering.

Cold fury churned deep inside me, wave after wave. But then I thought of my agreement with Joseph, and I swallowed it down.

It was just one dinner.

I'd think of it as their last supper.