His Kingdom for My Unborn Child

Five years into my marriage with the self-made financial mogul Julian Hayes, I finally became pregnant through IVF.

We were ecstatic. But at five months, I suffered an unexpected miscarriage. My doctor informed me it was due to a severe immune rejection from my body toward the embryo.

The news shattered me. I collapsed. Even Julian, a man forged from ice and self-control, wept. For a fleeting moment, I believed his heart was breaking with mine.

Until I overheard a conversation between him and his Chief Operating Officer.

"Julian, why pay off the doctor? It’s obvious Clara was poisoned. Why aren't we hunting down whoever did this?" Owen, his COO, sounded baffled.

"This investigation stops here." Julian's voice was heavy, choked with a pain I couldn’t comprehend. "It was Penelope. She accidentally put a toxin in Clara's supplements. You know she suffered that severe brain injury saving me three years ago. Her mind... it’s not right. It’s like a child’s now. She can’t tell a poisonous weed from a cooking herb..."

"She was only trying to help, to make Clara feel better, to make me happy. But if the board finds out, if the police get involved… they’ll crucify her. They’ll call it intentional assault."

Ever since Penelope had "saved" him three years ago and her mind supposedly regressed, she had brazenly wormed her way into our home.

On stormy nights, she’d slip into Julian's bed wearing my silk nightgown, crying that she was scared, and he’d hold her all night, leaving me to sleep alone in the guest room.

He always insisted her brain was damaged, that she was just a child. He treated her like a little sister and told me not to let it bother me.

Fine. If you love your precious Penelope so much, you can have her.

I picked up the private, encrypted phone I hadn't touched in five years. "I was wrong. I'm ready to come home. Come get me tomorrow."

But when I vanished for good, that arrogant man shattered his precious Penelope, then knelt at my feet, begging me to come back.

My Husband Faked My Miscarriage, and I Faked My Death

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1

My five-month pregnancy ended in a sudden miscarriage. The official story from my doctor was a rare medical complication—my body had simply rejected the embryo.

My husband, Julian, held my hand, his grip crushing mine. Grief etched new lines onto his handsome face.

"Clara, we can try again," he whispered, his voice raw. "We'll have another baby."

His words were a distant buzz. Then, darkness swallowed me whole.

When I woke in the sterile white of the hospital room, I overheard a hushed conversation from the hallway between Julian and his Chief Operating Officer, Owen.

"Julian, why pay off the doctor? It’s obvious Mrs. Hayes was poisoned. Why aren't we hunting down whoever did this?" Owen's voice was laced with confusion.

"We can't investigate." Julian's voice was heavy, thick with a suppressed anguish I didn't recognize. "It was Penelope. She… she accidentally put a toxin in Clara's supplements."

Owen gasped. "Penelope? Has she lost her mind?"

"She didn't mean it." Julian spoke quickly, as if desperate to convince Owen—or himself. "She suffered a severe head injury saving my life. Her mind is like a child's now. You know that, Owen."

"She was only trying to help with Clara's supplements. She was in the greenhouse this afternoon and must have mistaken a toxic plant for one of the medicinal herbs. She thought she was doing something good, trying to make Clara feel better, to make me happy."

Listening to his pathetic defense, I stared at the ceiling, a cold, sharp hatred churning in my gut.

That toxic plant and the supplement herbs looked and smelled nothing alike. How could anyone possibly confuse them?

Owen clearly wasn't buying it. "Julian, that's a hell of a stretch. Those plants don't even look—"

"Enough!" Julian's voice was a whip crack. "If the board learns about this, they won't care about excuses. The law will destroy her."

"She saved my life. I'd be dead if not for her three years ago. I can't just stand by and watch her go to prison."

"This discussion is over. The official story stands: it was an accident, a rejection. As for the baby… we can always have another."

We can always have another.

That single sentence annihilated the last shred of love I had for him.

Penelope saved his life. I understood his need to repay that debt. But was that reason enough to sacrifice me? To sacrifice our child?

On what grounds?

Ever since he brought Penelope to our Park Avenue penthouse three years ago, our marriage had devolved into a three-person circus.

Using her supposed "brain damage" as a shield, Penelope had insinuated herself into every corner of our lives.

On stormy nights, she’d slip into Julian's bed wearing my silk nightgown, crying that she was scared, and he’d hold her all night, leaving me to sleep alone in the guest room.

He always insisted her brain was damaged, that she was just a child. He treated her like a little sister and told me not to let it bother me.

When I was finalizing legal documents for a corporate merger, she’d "accidentally" spill red wine all over them, then blink her wide, innocent eyes and claim she only wanted to help me paint.

Julian would just pat her head with a helpless sigh and turn to me with a frown. "She doesn't know any better, Clara. Don't worry about it. Just have the legal team redraft them."

Six months ago, on my birthday, Julian had reserved the entire Per Se restaurant for a private evening for just the two of us.

Penelope suddenly had an "episode," smashing priceless antiques at home and gashing her arm with a shard from a shattered vase.

Julian abandoned me without a second thought, rushing back to cradle her until dawn.

I sat in that cavernous, empty restaurant until closing. He never even sent a text.

And I had tolerated it all.

I thought he loved me. I believed his feelings for Penelope were merely gratitude and a sense of duty.

Even at her worst, he would hold me afterward and apologize, whispering that he couldn't turn his back on the woman who had saved his life.

But my tolerance had run out.

I forced my aching body to sit up and pulled out the private, encrypted phone I hadn't touched in five years.

Julian never knew I was the sole heiress of the Beaumont family, a powerhouse dynasty on the North American West Coast.

Five years ago, I had defied my family to marry Julian, who was then just a brilliant up-and-comer on Wall Street.

My brother had once roared at me, telling me I was blinded by a fool's love and would live to regret it.

I had once boasted, "He would die for me."

To prove it, I cut all ties with my family and stayed with Julian in New York, building from nothing, helping him claw his way to the CEO's chair at Storm Capital.

It turned out my brother was right.

I was a complete and utter fool.

My fingers trembled as I dialed my brother’s number.

The call connected on the first ring.

A familiar, commanding voice answered, but underneath the authority, I heard a faint, hopeful tremor.

"Clara? Is that you?"

It was my brother, Donovan, the current head of the Beaumont family. The most powerful man on the West Coast.

"You were right," I said, each word a shard of glass in my throat. "I regret everything. I'm ready to come home. Come get me tomorrow."