My parents always chose my adopted sister.

Even when we were kids, it was obvious. She cried once and the whole house bent around her. While me, I learned early to stay quiet because no one was coming for me anyway.

Then Joaquin came into my life.

He was my father’s close friend's son. Rich, powerful, the kind of billionaire people whispered about in California like he wasn’t even real. Cold eyes, sharp voice, never smiled unless it was for her. Everyone in those elite circles wanted him, but he only looked at me.

Back then, I thought I was special. God, I was stupid.

I said once that I liked the ocean at night, just casually, not even thinking about it, and the next week he bought a beachfront house in Malibu just so I could “sleep better with the sound of waves.”

I said I was craving strawberries in winter, and he had them flown in from another country like it was nothing.

One time I had a fever and he stayed up the whole night, pressing a cold towel to my forehead, whispering, “I’m here, Laureen. You’re fine. I’ve got you.”

Who wouldn’t fall for that?

He looked like a man who didn’t care about anyone, but with me, he was patient. Gentle. Like I was the only person in the world who mattered.

And I believed it.

On our wedding day, in front of everyone, he held my hand so tight like he was afraid I’d disappear. The room was full of people who envied me. I could feel their eyes burning into my back. He didn’t care. He just looked at me like I was everything.

After we got married, it got even worse. Or better. I didn’t know the difference anymore.

When I got pregnant, he practically stopped working. Meetings got canceled. Trips got postponed. Everything revolved around me.

If I woke up in the middle of the night uncomfortable, he was already awake, asking what I needed.

If I felt sick, he stayed right there, holding my hair, rubbing my back, murmuring soft things I can’t even remember now without it hurting.

I thought… maybe this was what it felt like to finally be chosen.

Stupid, right?

When I was 37th weeks pregnant, we went back to my parents’ house for dinner. I didn’t want to go. That place never felt like home. It never would.

But he insisted and said it mattered.

I should’ve asked why.

Dinner hadn’t even finished when everything went wrong.

I started feeling dizzy. My head spun, my vision blurred. At first I thought it was just pregnancy, just exhaustion. Then my body went weak.

“Joaquin…” I tried to call him, but my voice barely came out.

I looked up and saw my parents. They weren’t panicking. They weren’t even surprised.

They were already holding Elizabeth.

“Wait…” I whispered, reaching out. “Help me…”

They didn’t.

They walked past me.

Just like that.

My knees gave out and I hit the floor hard, my stomach slamming against the edge of the table and the pain was so sharp I couldn’t even scream properly.

The last thing I saw was the ceiling spinning.

Then everything went dark.

...

When I woke up, three days had passed and the hospital room felt empty.

Where was he?

I got out of bed without thinking, dragging the IV stand with me. My body hurt, but I didn’t care. I just needed to see him.

As soon as I stepped into the hallway, I heard his voice.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Joaquin’s voice was low but sharp, every word cutting. “Who told you to drug her like that?! She’s 37th weeks pregnant. Do you have any idea what could’ve happened? You could’ve killed her and the baby.”

My chest tightened.

Drug…?

My mother sounded nervous. I’d never heard her like that.

“We didn’t have a choice,” she said. “Elizabeth’s condition is getting worse. The doctors already confirmed it. She needs a perfectly matched fetal stem cell transplant. We don’t have time to wait until the baby is born naturally. What if something goes wrong?”

My fingers went numb on the IV pole.

Fetal… stem cells…

My father spoke next, his voice lower. “We thought… if we did it now, if we extracted early, we could save Elizabeth before it’s too late…”

“Extract?” Joaquin’s voice turned dangerous. “You call that extraction?! That was reckless. That was stupid.”

There was a pause. Heavy.

Then he spoke again, slower this time.

“You think I don’t know what she needs?” he said quietly. “You think I haven’t planned for this?”

My heart started pounding so hard I couldn’t breathe.

“What do you mean planned?” my mother asked.

Joaquin let out a breath, like he was tired of explaining something obvious.

“I didn’t get close to Laureen by accident,” he said. “I didn’t marry her because I wanted to. And I definitely didn’t make sure she got pregnant at the exact right time for no reason.”

The hallway felt like it was closing in on me.

“I did it because Elizabeth needed a perfect match,” he continued. “Fetal stem cells from a genetically compatible baby. That was the only way to save her.”

Silence.

Then my mother whispered, “So everything was for Elizabeth?”

“Yes,” he said. No hesitation. “Everything.”

Something inside me shattered so completely it didn’t even hurt at first.

So that’s it?

That’s all I was?

A plan, a body, something to carry what they needed?

Joaquin’s voice dropped, colder than before.

“But you went too far. I told you I had a timeline. I would’ve handled the procedure safely. You don’t touch her again without my say. If anything happens to her before I’m done with this, you’ll regret it.”

“Y-yes… we understand,” my father said quickly. “We were just desperate…”

I stepped back before they could see me. My legs felt weak, barely holding me up. I made it to the stairwell and leaned against the wall, my whole body shaking.

Every memory hit me all at once. His voice. His hands. The way he looked at me.

I gripped the IV stand tighter, my nails digging into my skin.

He never loved me. Not even for a second.

The memories wouldn’t stop. They just kept coming, one after another, like they were trying to drown me.

My mom almost died giving birth to me. That’s what they always said. Like I owed them something just for existing. She never looked at me without that quiet resentment in her eyes.

And my dad… he loved her so much that he ended up hating me too.

Then they adopted Elizabeth.

And suddenly, the house had a sun.

Everything revolved around her.

I remember her school party. My parents showed up early, dressed like they were attending some big Hollywood event, smiling, laughing, taking photos with her like she was the only child they had.

My own school event was that same week. I waited at the gate until it got dark.

They never came.

I told myself they were busy. I kept telling myself that over and over.

Another time, Elizabeth tripped and scraped her knee. Just a small cut, barely bleeding, but my parents panicked like it was something serious. They stayed with her all night, comforting her, calling doctors, hovering over her like she’d break.

That same week, the driver forgot to pick me up from school.

I waited at the gate until it got dark. Everyone left. The guards were closing up. I started walking, didn’t even know where I was going.

A man followed me.

I remember his footsteps behind me, slow, getting closer. I started running, crying, my chest hurting so bad I thought I’d collapse right there on the road.

My teacher found me. She saw me running, pulled over, and rushed me into her car. She drove me home herself.

When we got there, the house was bright. Laughter inside. They didn’t even know I was missing.

I should’ve understood back then. I should’ve known no one was coming to save me.

I thought that would be my whole life.

Then the Cunberland banquet.

I didn’t even want to go. I knew I didn’t belong in those rooms full of billionaires and perfect people.

Elizabeth made sure I remembered that. She smiled sweetly right before she pushed me into the pool.

The water was freezing. My dress clung to me, heavy and embarrassing. When I climbed out, people were already laughing.

“Look at you,” she said, her voice soft but cruel. “You really are pathetic. No one wants you. Not even your own parents.”

I just stood there. Wet. Shaking. While everyone's laughing at me. Then Joaquin walked in like everything else didn’t matter.

He didn’t even hesitate. He took off his suit jacket and wrapped it around me, his hands steady, his face cold.

Then he looked at everyone else.

“Anyone else want to laugh?” he said quietly. “Go ahead. Try it.”

No one did.

Not a single sound.

And just like that… I felt seen. That was the moment I fell for him. He pursued me like I mattered. Like I was worth something.

After we got married, he gave me everything. The houses, the attention, the way he stayed close like he couldn’t stand being away from me.

But at night, he was different.

Even when I cried, even when I begged him to slow down, to give me a second, he just held me tighter and kept going like none of it mattered.

I told myself, this is love too, right?

Isn’t it? I thought he was the only person who ever wanted me.

But it turns out… He wanted something from me.

Three years ago, Elizabeth suddenly became “sick.”

They said she had a rare condition, something about her blood, something about needing a perfect match for a stem cell transplant.

I didn’t understand it back then. I just remembered sitting in that hospital room while doctors talked over my head.

“There’s only one way now,” one of them said. “If Miss Laureen Covington has a child, there’s a chance the baby could be a perfect genetic match.”

I didn’t think much of it at the time.

But now…

Was that the moment everything started? Was that when he decided to come for me? So all of it… the way he looked at me, the way he touched me, the way he made sure I got pregnant…

None of it was real?

I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

I stumbled back, my head spinning, and that’s when I heard Elizabeth’s voice just outside my hospital room.

She was on the phone. Laughing.

“Relax, I’m fine,” she said, almost bored. “There’s nothing wrong with me. The whole thing about needing fetal stem cells? Fake. I just wanted to watch Laureen panic. It’s more fun that way.”

My chest tightened so hard it hurt.

She kept talking, her voice lighter, almost playful.

“And Joaquin… he’s still convinced I was the girl he fell for that night. That’s why he’s so obsessed with me. It’s actually kind of funny.” She laughed softly. “He has no idea the one playing piano in the garden that night was Laureen.”

My fingers went cold.

What…?

“I’m not letting her take him,” Elizabeth said, her tone dropping, something darker slipping through. “Not now. Not ever. He’s mine.”

The call ended.

And I just stood there.

He thought it was her but it was me. And because of that mistake, I became the one he used.

I don’t even remember lifting my hand, but when I looked down, my phone was still recording. Every word. Every laugh.

Proof.

I don’t know how I made it to the doctor’s office. My legs felt numb, like they didn’t belong to me anymore.

“I want an abortion,” I said. My voice sounded rough, like it wasn’t mine.

The doctor froze. “Mrs. Cunberland… you’re already eights months along. This isn’t a small decision. Are you absolutely sure? Maybe you should think about it again.”

“I’ve thought about it,” I said quietly. “More than enough.”

He hesitated, clearly uncomfortable.

“But Mr. Cunberland made it very clear this child is extremely important,” he added carefully. “We can’t proceed without his approval. If you insist, he needs to sign the consent form himself.”

Of course he did. It was never my choice, was it? I closed my eyes for a second, then reached for the paper.

“Give it to me.” My fingers trembled as I took the consent form.

Then I turned and walked out.

…

As soon as I opened the door, I ran straight into him.

Joaquin.

He must’ve rushed over. He was still in his suit, perfect like always, like nothing in his world ever fell apart. But his face, there was something else there. Tension. Worry.

For me?

The second he saw me, he let out a breath and pulled me into his arms like he’d been holding it in the whole time.

“Where did you go?” he murmured against my hair, his hand sliding to the back of my neck, warm and familiar. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? You just disappeared like that! What if something happened to you?”

His voice was soft and almost scared.

It used to make me feel safe but now? It just hurt.

I slowly looked up at him. “Are you really scared something might happen to me?”

He frowned, like the question didn’t make sense, and brushed my cheek gently with his fingers.

“Of course I am,” he said, quieter this time. “Everyone knows you’re everything to me. And you’re carrying my child, how could I not be worried?”

My child.

The words hit me so hard I almost lost my balance.

My fingers tightened around the paper in my hand. Don’t react. Don’t break here. Not in front of him.

I lowered my gaze and handed it over. “I need to go for a checkup. They asked for your signature.”

He took it casually at first, but then his eyes paused on the page.

“What kind of checkup is this?”

My heart jumped.

I moved my hand quickly, covering the lower part of the paper, “Just… routine. Late pregnancy screening. They said it’s standard.”

He didn’t look convinced. He was about to read more when his phone vibrated.

A message popped up.

Elizabeth.

[Joaquin, I'm dizzy…]

I watched his face change right in front of me and just like that. All the focus he had on me was gone.

He didn’t even hesitate. He signed the paper quickly and shoved it back into my hands.

“Laureen, I need to go,” he said, already stepping away. He held my face for a second, kissed my forehead like it meant something. “You go ahead with the checkup. I’ll come find you after. I’ll stay with you… with both of you.”

Both of you.

He didn’t even finish his sentence before turning away. And then he was gone.

Just like that.

I stood there, staring at the signature on the paper. His name, bold and careless.

Right under the words…

Induced labor consent.

My vision blurred. I didn’t even notice the tears falling until they hit the paper and smudged the ink.

…

The operating room was cold. Too bright.

Metal instruments clinked softly somewhere beside me, sharp and distant.

I lay there, staring up at the ceiling, my fingers curled tightly against the sheets. My body felt heavy, numb in places, but my chest… it felt like it was being crushed slowly.

This is the choice I made.

I bit down hard on my lip, tasting blood almost immediately. Memories kept coming, one after another, like they refused to let me go.

The first time he stayed with me through the storm.

The lights had gone out, thunder shaking the windows, and I couldn’t stop trembling. He sat beside me in the dark, his hand warm around mine, his voice steady. “It’s okay. I’m here. I won’t leave.”

The day I got sick and could barely stand.

He carried me to bed without a word, tucked the blanket around me, his hand brushing my hair back so carefully. “Rest. You don’t have to be strong all the time.”

When I couldn’t keep food down during pregnancy.

He sat beside me, feeding me slowly, patient, soft. “Just one more bite, okay? You need to eat. I’m right here.”

I squeezed my eyes shut.

All of it…

Fake.

Every single word. Every touch. Every promise. Was there even one moment that was real?

Suddenly, the pain hit harder. My body tensed without warning, and a broken sound escaped my throat before I could stop it.

It hurts.

So much.

My fingers dug into my palms, nails pressing deep into my skin like I needed something to hold onto.

I thought I heard something.

A faint cry.

Or maybe it was just in my head.

“Joaquin…” I whispered, barely even hearing my own voice. Why am I still calling him? Why…

Tears slipped down the sides of my face, mixing with the cold sweat on my skin.

Everything felt distant. Blurry.

Like I was drifting somewhere far away from all of it.

The child…

Gone.

And just like that…

Whatever we had… it was over.

…

I stayed in the hospital for a day and no one came.

Not my parents and not even Joaquin.

I waited at him first. I kept checking the door every time footsteps passed. Maybe he'd show up or maybe he’d at least ask how I was but nothing.

In the end, I handled my own discharge. Signed the papers myself, packed my things, and walked out alone.

When I passed the VIP ward, the door was slightly open. I didn’t mean to look, but I did.

And there they were...

My parents sat on both sides of Elizabeth’s bed, peeling fruit, feeding her water, their faces full of worry. The kind of worry I’d begged for my whole life.

Joaquin stood near the doctor, holding a report, his brows slightly furrowed. His voice was low, careful, asking questions, making sure everything was fine.

Elizabeth reached out and tugged his sleeve, smiling softly.

He didn’t even hesitate. He bent down right away, adjusted her blanket, his movements gentle, patient.

I stood outside the door, frozen. My fingers slowly curled into my palm without me noticing.

Why does it still hurt? Haven’t I seen this my whole life?

A memory slipped in before I could stop it.

When we were kids, we both fell off our bikes on the same afternoon. Gravel tore into our knees, palms scraped raw, both of us crying on the side of the road.

My parents rushed straight to her. Lifting her up, brushing the dirt from her skin, voices soft and panicked as they checked every little scratch.

I stayed where I was.

Still on the ground.

My hands stung, blood slowly dripping down my fingers, but I didn’t move. I just watched them fuss over her like I wasn’t even there.

No one came.

I told myself I got used to it.

And then I met Joaquin.

He gave me so much that I stopped looking at anyone else. I stopped wanting anything from anyone else.

But now…

This was the first time I saw him treat someone better than he treated me.

So that’s it, huh? No one ever really loved me.

…

When I got back to the villa, the place felt too big.

I went straight to my room and closed the door.

Then I took out the fake belly I bought and strapped it under my clothes. Adjusted it carefully in the mirror until it looked real enough.

Still pregnant. Still carrying his child.

I touched it lightly. My hand trembled for a second before I pulled away.

My real baby…

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t get rid of my own child. No matter what kind of lie this world had become, that baby was still mine.

So I paid the doctor a fortune to perform a C-section. I give him nough money to buy his silence. He agreed to hide the baby for me, said he’d take care of everything—no records, no trace. And that when the time was right, I could come back and get my child.

After that… I asked him for one more thing.

A dead baby. Unclaimed.

He hesitated at first, but money makes people quiet so he brought one.

I placed the tiny body into a beautifully wrapped box, soaked everything in formalin, sealed it carefully, and locked it inside the drawer.

This would be my gift to Joaquin.

After everything was done, I sat on the bed for a long time before picking up my phone.

I dialed a number I hadn’t touched in years.

“Hello?” a woman answered.

“It’s me,” I said softly. “Laureen Covington.”

There was a pause, then recognition. “Laureen?! It’s been a long time. Where are you now?”

“I’m still in, Beverly Hills, California. But I don’t want to stay here anymore.” My voice came out steadier than I expected. “I want to leave and go abroad. If the position at the Sunvale Academy is still open… I’d like to take it. I can teach piano. I can start anytime.”

“That’s sudden! You built a life there. Are you sure you’re ready to walk away from everything?”

Everything.

What did I even have to walk away from?

“I’ve thought about it,” I said quietly. “There’s nothing here for me anymore.”

“Alright,” she said. “Come in two weeks. I’ll arrange everything on my side. We’ll take care of the rest once you’re here.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

I hung up.

Two weeks.

Just two more weeks.

Not long after, I heard footsteps outside and the door opened. Joaquin walked in, his expression tightening slightly when he saw me.