Elena’s POV

"Tell me everything." Ivan's voice was sharp and cold. “Tell me why Adrian Moretti's devoted wife wants her loving husband destroyed."

I explained everything from the tracking app, to finding Adrian with Celeste, the conversation I had overheard concerning the experiments on my babies, and his plan to divorce me.

By the time I finished, tears were running down my cheeks again.

Ivan was silent for a long moment.

"Do you have proof?" he finally asked.

"Yes." My voice was stronger now. "Medical records, bank statements, transfer documents. Everything."

"And you have fifty percent shares in the company?" Ivan asked.

"He doesn't know about them. Nobody does." I replied. "I also have evidence of everything illegal he had done in his company. But I can't use it. He has connections, lawyers, and my family—"

"Your family supports him?"

The question was like a knife to my chest, because the answer was a bitter truth.

My mother had never wanted me back.

I was ten when the DNA test results came back. Celeste and I had been switched at birth because of a hospital error.

When they came for me, I had been living in a small countryside village with a seamstress who had raised me. We were poor, but I’d been happy.

They took me to their mansion in the city, but my mother couldn't let Celeste go. She had raised Celeste, and loved her.

So she kept both of us.

But there was never any question who she preferred.

“Elena, fix your posture. You look like a peasant.”

“Elena, speak properly. Your accent is embarrassing.”

“Elena, why can't you be more like Celeste?”

Nothing I did was ever good enough. I took etiquette classes but I was too clumsy. I studied languages but my pronunciation was wrong.

Celeste was perfect and graceful, and my mother made sure I knew I didn't measure up.

By eighteen, I had learned to stay quiet, to make myself small, and to not expect love.

That's when I met Adrian. He was charming, successful, and he looked at me like I mattered.

“You're different from other girls,” he had said.

I fell in love with him fast and hard.

When he proposed after six months, I said yes immediately.

My mother had pulled me aside the night before the wedding. “Adrian Moretti is using you. But you're too stupid to see it.”

I hadn't listened.

I had married him, spent eight years trying to be the perfect wife.

And the whole time, Celeste had been there, sleeping with my husband behind my back, and I had never suspected a thing.

My chest ached as I blinked hard, forcing myself back to the present.

"My family loves my sister. They'll most likely side with him when he divorces me. I can't trust on their support."

Ivan was silent for a moment. "So you want revenge."

"I want justice," I corrected, my voice breaking. "He murdered my babies. He used them to cure my adopted sister's womb so she could carry his child. He made me sign away everything I had, and now he's going to throw me away like garbage."

"And why did you come to me?" Ivan asked curiously.

"Because you hate him." I replied desperately. "Adrian told me to stay away from you. He said you would do anything to destroy him."

He chuckled coldly. "What do you want from me, Elena?"

I clenched my fists tightly. "I want to take everything from him, the way he took everything from me. His company, his reputation, his freedom. I want him to lose it all. I have fifty percent of his company. You're his biggest competitor. Together, we can ruin him."

Ivan was quiet, then finally he spoke. "If I help you, it won't be charity. I want something in return."

My stomach clenched at the tone of his voice. "What do you want in return?"

"Marry me."

"Marry you?" I repeated incredulously, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes," Ivan said simply. "If I'm going to help you destroy Adrian Moretti, I want something permanent in return. Not money. Not shares. You."

"But—"

He interrupted. "Think about my offer, Mrs. Moretti. You have my number."

The call was disconnected.

I stared at my phone, my mind spinning. Marry Ivan Romano? Adrian's biggest enemy?

I shook my head. No. I didn't need him. I had the evidence. I had the shares. I could handle this myself.

I would make sure Adrian lost everything, the same way he'd taken everything from me.

Elena’s POV

I didn't waste any time. I went straight to the bedroom and began packing my things. I didn’t know what to do, but I was very certain that I couldn’t stay here anymore.

I moved mindlessly, pulling clothes from hangers, emptying drawers as I arranged them all in my bags.

"Elena?"

I froze.

Adrian's voice came from the doorway. "What's going on? What are you doing?"

I turned slowly to face him.

His expression changed instantly when he saw my face. My eyes were red and swollen from crying, and my cheeks stained with tears.

"What's wrong?" Panic flashed in his eyes as he stepped closer. "Are you okay? What happened?"

The concern in his voice made my stomach turn. He was so good at pretending. He sounded so convincing.

I shook my head. “Nothing.” I croaked.

He stepped closer even more, looking worried. “Come on, it can’t be nothing, you’ve been crying.”

I knew Adrian wouldn’t drop it anytime soon, so I lied,

"It's Clara," I whispered, my voice breaking.

He furrowed his brows. “Your foster mother? The one who’s been in a coma since the car accident?

I nodded. "The hospital called. She's getting worse. They said... they said she might not make it."

For a split second, I saw relief flash in his eyes.

Then it was gone, replaced by fake sympathy.

"Oh, Elena." He stepped forward, pulling me into his arms. "I'm sorry. I know she means a lot to you."

My skin crawled at his touch. The hands that had murdered my babies, were now holding me, and comforting me.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to claw his eyes out.

But I forced myself to stay still, to let him hold me.

"Adrian?" Celeste's voice called from the doorway.

Adrian's body tensed up. He pulled away immediately and rushed to Celeste's side.

"Are you okay?" he asked her with genuine concern, not the fake concern he had just given me.

Celeste nodded, smiling. "Yes, I just wanted to know if you've told Elena yet."

Adrian turned to me, and suddenly his entire demeanor changed. His voice was vibrating with excitement.

“Elena, Celeste has good news.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “Good news?”

He nodded. “Yes. And I would be throwing a party next week for a big celebration of the good news. I'm inviting all my friends, business partners, investors—everyone important."

I knew what the good news was. The pregnancy. My husband's baby growing inside my sister. And I knew the plans he had for me at that party.

I stared at him. "All these for the ‘good news’?"

"Yes." Celeste smiled sweetly. "Adrian wanted to do something special for me, as we’re all family."

He was throwing a party to celebrate the baby he had created using my murdered children.

"There will be a family dinner tonight first," Adrian continued. "Just us and your parents. But the big party is next week. I've already hired caterers, sent out invitations—”

"I'm not interested," I said flatly.

Celeste's smile faltered. "But Elena—"

"I said I'm not interested."

Celeste’s face dropped, and her eyes watered.

"Elena!" Adrian snapped, his expression darkening. "Your mother and father will be there. They're expecting you."

“I can’t bring myself to celebrate while Clara is dying," I said quietly, the lie rolling off my tongue easily.

"She's old," Adrian said dismissively. "She's lived her life. But this baby—" He placed his hand on Celeste's stomach. "This is new life. Something to be happy about."

My hands clenched into fists at his cruel words. Clara had always treated him like her son, even though I wasn’t her biological daughter. I couldn’t believe that he would be so flippant about her life.

"Don't be selfish," he continued. "Celeste is trying to include you in something important—"

"I said no."

Celeste's eyes filled with tears. "I just wanted us all to be together as a family. But if you don't want to be there..." Her voice broke. "If you hate me that much..."

"I'm just worried about Clara." I replied, turning away from her to continue packing the clothes.

"She wasn't your real mother," Celeste said softly. "She was just—"

"Don't." My voice was cold. "Don't you dare finish that sentence."

Celeste flinched, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. She turned to Adrian. "See? She hates me. I try so hard to be a good sister, but she—"

"Enough." Adrian's voice was sharp. He turned to me, his eyes hard. "You're coming to dinner tonight. And you're coming to the party next week. That's final."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are." He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous tone. "You're my wife. You'll attend both events, you'll smile, and you'll support your sister. Do you understand?"

I stared at him. The man that I had loved for eight years. The man who had murdered our children.

"Fine," I said quietly. "I'll come."

Satisfaction flashed across his face. "Good. Dinner starts at seven."

He turned and guided Celeste out of the room, whispering something in her ear that made her laugh.

The door closed behind them.

I stood there for a long moment, staring at the closed door with a glare on my face.

Adrian had no idea of the storm that was coming for him.

Elena’s POV

At 7:00, I walked downstairs wearing a simple black dress.

Adrian was in the living room with Celeste. When he saw me, he frowned.

"You're wearing black?"

"I have no reason to celebrate," I said quietly.

His jaw tightened, but he didn't argue.

Celeste, meanwhile, was wearing a flowing pink dress that made her look radiant and glowing.

"You look beautiful," Adrian told her softly.

She beamed. "Thank you."

He didn't even glance at me.

The doorbell rang.

"That'll be your parents," Adrian said, heading to the door.

I watched him greet my mother and father with warm hugs and handshakes.

My mother spotted me and frowned. "Elena, why are you wearing black? This is a celebration."

"I cannot celebrate when Clara is still fighting for her life," I said simply.

"Oh." My mother's expression didn't change. "Well, that's unfortunate. But tonight is about Celeste and her good news."

Of course it was. They didn’t care about anything else.

We moved to the dining room.

I sat at the far end of the table. Adrian sat at the head, with Celeste on his right and my parents on his left.

They chatted and laughed amongst themselves, completely ignoring me, almost like I was invisible.

Halfway through the meal, Celeste stood up.

"I have an announcement," she said, her voice shaking with excitement.

Everyone turned to look at her. Adrian was beaming.

"I'm pregnant," Celeste said softly.

My mother gasped, jumping up to hug her. "Oh, sweetheart! That's wonderful!"

My father grinned. "Congratulations, Celeste."

"Who's the father?" I asked quietly.

The room went silent.

Celeste's eyes widened. "What?"

"I asked who the father is," I repeated. "You're not married. You don't have a boyfriend that I know of. So who got you pregnant?"

"Elena!" my mother snapped. "How dare you—"

"It's a reasonable question," I said calmly.

Celeste's eyes filled with tears. "I... I was seeing someone. He died a few months ago. This baby is all I have left of him."

The lie rolled off her tongue so easily.

I glanced between my father and my mother. They looked very uncomfortable, avoiding my eyes.

And that's when it clicked.

They knew.

They all knew whose baby it was.

My own parents knew my husband was having an affair with my sister, and they were celebrating it.

"I'm sorry for your loss," I said flatly. "Congratulations on the baby."

Adrian cleared his throat. "As I mentioned earlier, I'm throwing a celebration party this Saturday. A big one. All my business partners, investors, and friends will be there to celebrate this wonderful news."

My mother clapped her hands together. "How exciting! Celeste, you'll need a new dress—"

"Already ordered," Adrian said with a smile. "Only the best for my... for Celeste."

He had almost said something else. I saw him catch himself.

"Elena, you'll need something appropriate too," my mother said, eyeing my black dress with distaste.

"I have plenty of dresses," I said quietly.

"Nothing suitable for a celebration," she countered. "Tomorrow, you and I will go shopping."

"I would rather spend tomorrow at the hospital with Clara."

My mother's expression hardened. "Elena, that woman is dying. There's nothing you can do for her. But you can support your sister during this happy time."

That woman. Not even your foster mother. Just that woman.

"If you'll excuse me," I said, standing to my feet. "I'm not feeling well. I'm going to bed."

"Elena, sit down," Adrian said sharply.

"No."

"I said sit down!"

"And I said no." I looked at him coldly. "I came to dinner like you asked. I heard the announcement. Now I'm leaving."

I turned and walked out of the dining room.

Behind me, Celeste’s voice wobbled with fake tears. “She hates me, Mom.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” my mother soothed. “At least, thanks to her, you’re now…” Her voice dropped, too low for me to hear.

My breath caught.

They knew. My parents knew what Adrian had done—and they supported it.

I went upstairs and shut the bedroom door. I lay there, staring at the ceiling while laughter, clinking glasses, and music drifted up the stairs. They were celebrating my pain.

Soon, they would have nothing left to celebrate.