That stopped him. He looked over his shoulder, disbelief etched into his face. “What did you just say?”

“I’m pregnant,” I repeated, my voice shaking but loud enough for him to hear. “The doctor said it’s a miracle I even conceived. It’s a high-risk pregnancy… and it’s twins, Marshall. If you take my blood, you could kill them. Our babies.”

For a moment, silence. Then he laughed. The sound was cruel, sharp, and it echoed in my ears.

“You expect me to believe that?” His voice dripped with scorn. “You would stoop so low as to fake a pregnancy just to get out of helping your own sister?”

“I’m not lying,” I whispered.

“You’re a liar, Liora. You’ve always been a liar. You will give the blood. End of discussion.”

Something inside me cracked. “I won’t kill my children for her!”

His expression darkened like a storm. “Then you’ll watch me burn that vineyard your parents built, row by row. I’ll make you stand there while I tear down every vine they planted, grind the soil until nothing grows again. And when I’m done, there will be no bottles, no barrels, no trace of their name on this earth.”

My blood turned to ice. That vineyard wasn’t just land. It was the only piece of my parents I had left. They had poured decades into it since the eighties, tending every grape with their own hands. I grew up running between those rows, smelling the sweet crush of harvest season. It was the heart of our family and he knew it.

“Y-you wouldn’t dare!”

Marshall stepped in close, so close I could feel his breath. His eyes were sharp now, “Push me and find out.”

I stared at him, my chest rising and falling too fast. This was the man I’d once loved, the man who’d once promised to protect me. Now he was the very thing I needed protection from.

My hand found my stomach, instinctive, protective. The twins. Our twins. My tears came silently this time.

When he grabbed my arm and pulled, I didn’t fight him. Fighting him only ever ended one way. I followed, quiet, swallowing down the sobs that wanted to break out.

He took me into the VIP hospital room he’d gotten for Daphne. My twin sister lay there, pale, hooked to IV fluids, eyes red. She let out these soft little whimpers like she was barely holding on.

Marshall rushed to her side. “Daph, I’m here,” he murmured, stroking her hair back with a tenderness he hadn’t shown me in years. “You’ll be alright. I brought her.”

Her lips trembled. “It hurts, Marshall… everything hurts.”

I stood still while watching my husband treat my sister like she was porcelain. But then she cracked one eye open… and smiled. No, smirked. A quick, smug little twitch of her lips before she shut her eyes again.

Bitch!

My stomach twisted with fury.

I stepped forward to speak, but Marshall turned so fast I didn’t have time to react. His hand closed over my wrist like a steel cuff. His glared told me exactly what would happen if I opened my mouth.

The door opened. A doctor came in, glancing between us.

“She’s getting worse,” Marshall said without looking at me. “Start the transfusion now.”

“She’s stable enough to—” the doctor began, but Daphne whimpered again.

“We’re not waiting.” Marshall cut him off. “The donor’s right here.”

The doctor’s eyes landed on me. He nodded and told the nurses to prepare.

I froze when I saw the needle in his hand. My skin went clammy. I’d always hated needles, and Marshall knew that. In the early years, he’d hold my hand, whisper something soft, distract me until it was over.

This time he didn’t even look my way. When Daphne whimpered again, he left me completely, rushing back to her side.

I turned my face away as the doctor stepped closer. In my head, I was begging anyone—God, fate, even the devil—to stop this.

The needle was inches from my arm when the door burst open.

“Stop!” Another doctor ran in, clutching a file. He was out of breath. “You can’t do this.”

The room went still.

“MRS. CELESTINO IS PREGNANT!” he announced.

The needle was lowered instantly.

Marshall blinked, his face twitching. “That’s impossible. She can’t—”

The doctor stepped closer and handed him the file. “She came in this morning for an abortion appointment but cancelled. She’s carrying twins. High risk.”

The relief hit me like a wave, my knees almost giving out. Finally. Finally there was proof.

But before I could breathe for real, Marshall looked up. His voice was like ice.

“I don't fucking care! Take her blood.”

I stared at him, my mouth falling open. “What?”

His jaw clenched. “You heard me.”

The room went quiet except for the steady beeping of the monitors.

One of the nurses took a hesitant step forward. “Mr. Celestino, your wife can’t donate blood. She’s pregnant. With twins. And it’s a high-risk pregnancy. If we proceed, she could lose both babies.”

Marshall’s expression didn’t flicker. He moved closer, his voice low and sharp. “I heard you. Do it anyway.”

The doctor looked from him to me, “Sir, this could endanger her life as well. We can’t—”

“YOU CAN,” Marshall cut in, his tone like ice. “I’m paying you enough to do whatever I say.”

I felt my chest tighten. This was the man I had married. The man I had once believed would keep me safe.

Marshall’s glare swept across the room. “I am Marshall Celestino. You all work here because I allow it. Cross me, and you’ll regret it.”

The nurses froze. The doctor looked at the floor. No one wanted to defy him.

One nurse turned to me, her voice almost apologetic. “Mrs. Celestino… we need your consent.”

I stared at Marshall, my tears falling one by one. “You’ve always claimed you wanted a child, and now that I’m carrying your twins, you’d throw them away for Daphne’s fake illness?”

He gave a bitter laugh. “You were going to abort them anyway.”

I shook my head. “And you just heard I cancelled it.”

Marshall sighed as if I were a stubborn child. “Liora, your pregnancy isn’t stable. The odds aren’t in your favor. Daphne’s condition is more secure. Her baby has a real chance.”

My stomach dropped. “So you’re willing to kill mine for hers.”

He stepped forward, softening his tone like that would make it better. “It’s not about that. Daphne’s vitals are slipping. Yours… well, you might not make it next month.”

I couldn’t speak. I could only look at him and realize he wasn’t just saving a life. He was choosing a woman. And it wasn’t me.

“You’ve already made your choice,” I whispered.

Daphne let out a small, practiced cough from the bed. His attention snapped to her instantly, leaving me invisible.

The nurse’s touch on my arm was light, her eyes full of pity. “Mrs. Celestino… please.”

Marshall didn’t look back.

I swallowed hard. “Do it.”

The needle slid into my arm. My blood flowed into the tube. I stared at the floor, willing myself not to cry. My chest tightened, and dizziness rolled over me in waves.

The nurse checked the monitor and gasped. “Her vitals are dropping!”

“Stop the transfusion,” the doctor ordered.

Marshall shoved him back. “Don’t stop. Daphne needs it.”

“She’s stable,” the nurse shot back.

“You’re blind if you think she’s fine,” Marshall snapped.

Pain tore through me. My vision blurred. I could taste blood. My body was trembling uncontrollably.

Somewhere in the haze, my thoughts went to Percival. The way his voice had wrapped around the word finally, like he had been waiting for me all along. I had told him to wait. I had never said yes.

The medical staff argued with Marshall, their voices a jumble. He never looked at me. Only at Daphne.

I managed to whisper, barely audible. “God… please save my babies.”

And then everything went dark.

**

When I woke up, I honestly wished I hadn’t. My whole body hurt like I had been thrown down a flight of stairs and run over for good measure. There was this horrible empty feeling inside me, like something had been ripped away.

“Oh, Mrs. Celestino. You’re finally awake. We thought we were going to lose you,” a female doctor said quietly from beside me.

My throat felt like sandpaper. My limbs were heavy, sore, bruised in places I didn’t even know could bruise. I blinked against the blinding hospital lights, trying to remember why I was here. For a second, I thought maybe it was a bad dream.

But then it all came back.

Marshall. Daphne. The blood transfusion. The pain. The panic. The screaming inside my head.

Fear clawed its way up my chest as I turned my head toward the doctor. Her expression was careful, too careful. I already knew.

“My babies…” My voice cracked. “Please tell me they’re okay.”

She hesitated. That pause was worse than any answer she could have given me.

Her eyes softened, and she shook her head. “We tried everything. I’m sorry. The twins didn’t make it.”

The world stopped moving. And then I broke… I sobbed until my lungs gave out, until my body shook and my stitches pulled, until my vision blurred with tears. I cried for the two little lives I never got to hold, for the tiny kicks I’d never feel again, for the future that Marshall had stolen from me without a second thought.

If I had known this was how it would end, maybe I would have ended the pregnancy early, before I let myself love them.

When the tears finally slowed, I wiped my face with trembling fingers. My mind drifted to the last conversation I’d had with Percival. His offer.

“W-what day is it?”

“It’s Thursday,” she said gently. “You’ve been unconscious for two days.”

Two days. That meant I was running out of time.

“I need my phone, please.”

“It’s in the drawer beside you.”

I took the phone. My hands shook as I typed the message:

“I’ll take your offer. Meet me at the airport.”

“Finally. I was starting to think you’d changed your mind, little grapes.”

“Never.” I typed back.

The doctor asked if I needed anything else. I gave her a smile that tasted like metal. “Did anyone come to see me?”

“I’m sorry. No one came.”

Something in me went cold then. Not the kind of cold that makes you shiver. The kind that settles deep, like frost in your bones.

When she left, I stared at the wall for a long time. Eventually, I pushed the blanket off me. Pain tore through my body, but I ignored it.

“Mrs. Celestino?” A nurse had just walked in. “You shouldn’t be moving. You lost a lot of blood. Your stitches—”

“I’m leaving,” I said flatly. “I don’t care if I’m still bleeding. I’m not staying here another second.”

She tried to reason with me. “You’re not stable enough. We haven’t—”

“I said I’m leaving. Just give me whatever I need to sign.”

She stared at me for a long moment, then walked out. A few minutes later, she came back with the discharge papers.

Every step toward the door felt like climbing a mountain barefoot. My legs shook, my back screamed, but I kept going.

Halfway down the hall, I saw them. Marshall and Daphne. My twin sister.

They were in another room, sitting side by side. Smiling. Laughing. Like nothing had happened. Like my babies had never existed.

I turned away before they could see me.

They had already taken everything from me once. I wasn’t going to let them do it again.

And this time, I had Percival. The man who hid his empire behind polite smiles. The man people whispered about but never named out loud.

The man who could burn the Celestinos to the ground without lifting a finger.

And I was done being their victim.

Marshall was feeding her soup with this fake gentle smile, like he actually cared. Daphne sat there, looking fragile but smug, soaking up all the attention like a queen.

Before, seeing them together would have crushed me. Now, I felt nothing. I turned to slip away, but, as usual, luck wasn’t on my side.

“Liora?” Marshall’s voice caught me. I stiffened, jaw tightening.

I turned slowly, keeping my face blank, trying to hide the storm inside. When our eyes met, I caught something flicker in him… guilt, maybe. Like he’d just remembered I was even there.

“I didn’t know you were awake,” he stuttered, pushing himself up from the chair beside Daphne. “How are you feeling?”

I said nothing. Not a word. My silence was louder than any answer I could give.

Marshall’s shoulders slumped. “Your sacrifice… it wasn’t for nothing,” he said quietly, looking at me like he wanted me to believe it. “Daphne’s fine. The baby’s healthy and strong. You saved them both.”

I laughed. It was sharp, bitter, without any humor. Marshall flinched like he’d been hit.

Daphne rested her hand on her flat belly, smiling all sweetness, “Marshall hasn’t left me alone for a second. He’s been so good to me.”

I wasn’t about to sit and listen to their sick show. I turned to leave, but Marshall jumped up, reaching for me.

“Wait, Liora. Just wait.”

I froze. Not because I wanted to hear him, but because I knew how ridiculous it would sound.

“I’m throwing a party tonight,” he blurted out. “To celebrate your recovery and Daphne coming home safe. It’s been a rough road. My father’s going to be there. He really wants to see you.”

I didn’t say a thing.

He stepped closer, his voice softer, trying to sound sincere. “Let me give you a ride home. We’re all going the same way.”

“I’m not going home,” I said flatly. “I’m going to my parents’ vineyard.”

Percival had promised to watch over the vineyard once I accepted his offer. It was the only piece of my parents left, the only thing Marshall could never touch.

Marshall blinked, confused. “The vineyard? Why?”

I tilted my head, keeping my face cold. “I have business there. None of your concern.”

Daphne perked up suddenly, her fake sweetness on full display. “Perfect timing. I was going to visit too. It is our parents’ vineyard after all.”

That caught me off guard. She’d always acted like it didn’t exist.

Marshall nodded quickly. “Then we’ll come with you.”

I stared at him, surprised at how fast he agreed. This was the same man who always called the vineyard a waste, a burden. But now, with Daphne mentioning it, he jumped at the chance.

I sneered quietly. “Fine. You can come. But there’s one thing I need from you first.”

Marshall straightened, hopeful. “Anything.”

I reached into my bag and pulled out the discharge papers I’d been holding since he brought Daphne home. Divorce paper.

He took the papers, eyebrows furrowed. “What’s this?”

“My discharge form,” I said flat, not meeting his eyes.

He hesitated, always so careful about what he signed. But then he glanced at Daphne, who fluttered her lashes and smiled sweetly, and suddenly he forgot all caution.

“I’m tired, Marshall,” she purred. “Let’s go home quickly.”

He nodded, barely looking at the papers before signing. The moment his pen lifted, a small smirk played on my lips.

“Thank you,” I said, slipping the papers back into my bag. “Now I’m free from you.”