The sound of tearing flesh and growling dogs stopped.

I lay in a pool of blood and water, covered in wounds.

"This pregnant one can't last much longer," Scarlett's voice came over the speakers, filled with a sick excitement.

"That belly's ripe for the picking. Let's cut her open. See if it's a boy or a girl."

My blood ran cold.

A paralyzing fear seized me.

"No!" I screamed. "No! Please! I'm begging you!"

I hugged my stomach, as if that could protect my unborn child.

The broadcast went silent for a few seconds.

Then came Alex's low voice.

"Forget cutting her open."

A tiny spark of hope.

He had a line. He wouldn't hurt the baby.

"The killer can die for all I care," Alex continued. "But leave the belly. It’s bad luck to harm an unborn child. My own is due any day."

The hope died instantly.

He wasn't protecting me.

In his eyes, I was just some damn killer.

"You're no fun," Scarlett said, her voice laced with disappointment.

But she quickly perked up.

"I have a better idea, though."

"These assassins have been hiding in New York for a long time, targeting our family. Since we're not killing the pregnant one, I'll interrogate her myself."

"I'll dig out every secret she knows."

My heart sank to the floor.

"Do what you want," Alex replied, his voice indifferent.

A few guards ran over and grabbed my arms roughly.

"No!" I struggled. "Alex! I'm Valentina!"

No one listened.

They dragged me into a shipping container that had been converted into an interrogation room.

The heavy iron door slammed shut.

A single, harsh light bulb hung over a chair in the center of the room.

They tied me to the chair and finally ripped the hood off my head.

A few minutes later, the door opened.

Scarlett walked in, poured into a tight black leather outfit.

Her eyes gleamed with a twisted excitement.

"We finally meet," she said, circling me. "Let's get a good look at the killer who dares to impersonate Valentina."

She crouched in front of me, studying my face.

"The disguise is good, I'll give you that. Almost the real thing."

"I'm not a killer!" I cried. "I'm Valentina! I'm Alex's wife!"

Scarlett burst out laughing.

"Still acting? You really think he loves you?"

She leaned close to my ear, her whisper laced with venom.

"He can't even recognize you. And even if he doesn't want to kill the baby in your belly for the sake of that face, you're not leaving here alive today."

My eyes widened.

"It was you... you set all of this up?"

Scarlett smiled, pleased with herself.

"You're just figuring that out?"

Scarlett smirked, deliberately lifting her wrist to show off a brand-new, diamond-encrusted bracelet—one I recognized from a design Alex.

“He came to me last night after you were asleep.” She stepped closer. 'I told him I was in a terrible mood, that nothing in New York was fun. So you know what he did? He arranged this whole game, just for me. While you’ve been running for your life, he’s been right here, holding my hand and making sure I’m entertained.'"

Every word was a dagger in my heart.

"He only loves you for these hands, right?" Scarlett said, grabbing my hand with a vicious grip.

"Let's see what he likes about you after I destroy them!"

She walked to the wall and picked up a hammer.

The heavy iron head glinted under the light.

"No!" I struggled wildly. "Don't touch my hands!"

"It's the only thing I have! It's my life!"

Scarlett slammed my right hand onto the table.

"Your life?" she sneered. "An assassin doesn't get to talk about art."

She raised the hammer high.

From the control room, Alex watched the screen.

I looked desperately at the camera.

"Alex! Look at me! It's me, Valentina!"

The hammer came down.

"CRACK. The sound of my own bone snapping shot up my arm."

"Aaargh!"

My index finger bent at an impossible angle. The pain almost made me pass out.

"That's for the first finger," Scarlett said, raising the hammer again. "Nine more to go."

The second blow landed. Middle finger.

The third. Ring finger.

Each impact was met with my blood-curdling screams.

In the control room, a frown creased Alex's face.

"'She's got guts for an assassin,' he said, his voice cold as ice. 'Finish it.'"

The fourth blow.

The fifth.

My right hand was ruined. Five fingers twisted into unnatural shapes.

Blood stained the tabletop.

The agony was so intense I felt like I was going into early labor. My stomach contracted violently, and more fluid ran down my legs.

"Now for the left," Scarlett said, lifting the hammer.

"No!" I screamed with my last ounce of strength.

"Alex!"

My voice tore through the night.

"Look at me! Look at who I am!"

In the control room, the cigar in Alex's hand suddenly snapped.

He stared at the screen, his brow furrowed.

"Wait."

His voice held a trace of uncertainty.

"That voice... it's identical to my wife's."

The interrogation room door was kicked open.

Alex stormed in.

The pool of blood beneath me was growing, staining the entire chair red.

"Alex!" I reached for him with my mangled hand.

But Scarlett quickly stepped between us.

"Don't go near her!" she yelled, grabbing Alex's arm. "This killer has studied you too well!"

"She probably had plastic surgery to look like Valentina! She even copied her voice!"

Alex stopped.

"You protect Valentina so well, they knew that was your weak spot," Scarlett pressed on. "The second you get close, they'll find a way to kill you!"

"No!" I cried out in despair. "I'm Valentina! I'm your wife!"

Scarlett turned and walked toward me.

Her hands started patting me down.

"Just as I thought!"

She pulled a small metal device from my clothes.

"A pressure-plate bomb!"

She held it up high for Alex to see.

Then she slapped me hard across the face.

"Damn killer! Trying to blow up my man!"

Alex's face darkened instantly.

He turned away in disgust, as if he'd seen something vile.

"How could I fall for a trick like that?"

"Maybe there isn't even a baby in her belly," Scarlett said venomously. "Or maybe the baby's already dead and she's packed with explosives. We should cut her open and check."

This time, Alex said nothing.

His silence was permission.

"Doctor!" Scarlett yelled.

A doctor in a surgical mask walked in, holding a scalpel and anesthesia.

"No anesthetic," Scarlett stopped him. "I want her awake."

The doctor hesitated for a second, then nodded.

Alex turned to leave.

Just then, his phone rang.

"Boss?" It was the butler's voice. "The missus disappeared on her way to the concert hall."

Alex laughed.

"Her due date is today. She must have gone into labor and been taken to the hospital."

His voice was filled with excitement and anticipation.

"Clear out the jewelers! Find every doctor in this city! Find out which hospital my wife is in! Now!"

"I'm going to be a dad!"

He was as giddy as a child.

He didn't notice that behind him, a scalpel was already slicing into my stomach.

"Aaaargh!"

The pain almost made me black out.

The doctor quickly gave me a shot of adrenaline.

"This will keep you wide awake," he muttered.

The blade cut deep into my abdomen. Blood gushed out.

I could feel my life draining away.

Just as I thought I was about to die, I heard it.

A baby's cry.

Faint, but clear.

My heart nearly stopped.

"My baby!" I screamed with my last bit of strength. "Let me see my baby!"

But Scarlett clamped her hand over the baby's mouth and nose.

The crying stopped.

She tossed the tiny body into a trash bag.

"Nothing to see," she sneered. "Too bad. Stillborn."

My heart died.

My tears ran dry.

My soul shattered.

Scarlett pulled out a fake bomb she'd prepared, smeared it with my blood, and ran out to find Alex.

"I was right! She had a stillborn, and she really was rigged with a bomb!"

Outside the door, Alex was still on the phone, ecstatic.

"Buy Valentina the best jewelry! And arrange a private concert! Give her anything she wants!"

Anything she wants.

I lay on the operating table and let out a bitter laugh.

Nothing I wanted mattered anymore. Our story was over. Written in blood.

The heart monitor next to me beeped weaker and weaker.

Alex and Scarlett's voices faded into the distance.

I thought I was about to die.

"I can't just let you die," the doctor suddenly whispered.

He injected me with an anesthetic.

"Hold on. I'm getting you to a hospital."

The wail of a siren grew closer.

As they wheeled me out of the interrogation room, I was already drifting off.

Rain fell on my face.

I felt something cold against my neck.

The necklace.

The one Alex had just given me for my birthday.

Engraved on it were the words: "My Love."

My love. How ironic.

Just as the gurney was about to be loaded into the ambulance, I heard Alex's sharp voice.

"Wait!"

Through a haze, I heard Alex's voice getting closer.

Did he recognize the necklace? Did he finally recognize me?

A tiny flame of hope flickered back to life.

"Keep that stretcher away from Scarlett," Alex's voice was so cold it broke my heart.

"The blood will stain her dress."

Of course. I should never have hoped.

He didn't recognize me. He was just worried about some woman's dress.

"Use the service exit," Scarlett said, pinching her nose in disgust. "The smell of blood is sickening."

The medics were forced to push my gurney toward a dark, narrow corridor.

Darkness swallowed me.

The anesthetic dulled the physical pain, but something inside me had snapped.

There was no future for me and Alex.

I remembered all those romantic nights, him holding me on the balcony, looking at the stars.

"Valentina, I'll give you the most beautiful life. Our child will grow up surrounded by love."

"I'll be the best husband and father in the world."

All those dreams, those tender promises, they ended the moment our child was cut out of me and silenced.

The ambulance sped away from the docks. Blinding headlights shone from the opposite direction.

A convoy of cars blocked our path.

It was Alex's motorcade.

The ambulance was forced to a halt. The driver rolled down his window.

"Let us through! We have a dying maternity patient on board!"

"My wife is giving birth," Alex growled, his face a mask of cold fury. "Get the hell out of my way."

There was a deafening crash.

Alex's car rammed the ambulance, forcing it aside.

The violent jolt woke me from my stupor. Blood gushed from my wound again.

With my last ounce of strength, I screamed out the window, "Your wife is already dying!"

Alex heard me. His face twisted with even more rage.

"Damn it! That killer dares to use my wife's voice to talk about dying! I told you, Valentina is having a baby today! Everything makes way for my wife!"

His voice echoed in the night, stabbing my numb heart again.

"This killer has impersonated Valentina over and over!" Scarlett shrieked from the passenger seat. "It's disgusting!"

"Block that ambulance! Don't let her cause any more trouble!"

Several black cars surrounded the ambulance as armed bodyguards jumped out.

"Let's go, Alex!" Scarlett urged. "It's a long way to the hospital!"

Alex's motorcade sped off, leaving our lone ambulance surrounded.

I lay on the gurney, bleeding out, my life fading away.

"God help you, girl," the doctor said, shaking his head. "You didn't just piss off the devil. You married him."

I closed my eyes with a bitter smile.

Yeah. I didn't just piss off the devil. I married him.

If Alex knew it was me lying here, would he regret it? Or would he just think I deserved it all?

Half an hour later, the bodyguards surrounding us got an urgent command.

"Fall back! We have a more important mission!"

They vanished into the night.

The ambulance finally sped toward the hospital, its emergency lights flashing a blinding red.

"Hurry! Get her to the OR!"

Nurses rushed out.

Just as the gurney was about to enter the emergency room, we ran into Alex again.

He was standing in the hallway, his face a mask of anxiety.

"Goddammit," he spat. "This killer bitch again? Get her out of my sight."

I vaguely heard his words, then lost consciousness completely.

"Who gave me the bad intel!" Alex roared at his second-in-command. "Sent me to the wrong damn hospital! Are you sure Valentina is here? Is she in surgery?"

His deputy fumbled with his phone.

"Yes, Boss! The informant confirmed she was brought here! But we haven't gotten a specific OR number!"

"I want the absolute best medical team for Valentina's delivery!" Alex paced back and forth, frantic. "Nothing can go wrong!"

The nurses wheeled me into an operating room. Neither Alex nor his deputy paid any attention.

To them, I was just some damn killer.

His deputy kept making calls, trying to confirm.

"What's the OR number!"

"Why can't I reach her primary doctor!"

The minutes ticked by. Alex grew more and more impatient.

"Still no news?!"

He was about to assume it was another false lead and leave.

Just as he lost his patience, his deputy suddenly pointed at the operating room I had just been wheeled into. His hand was shaking.

"Boss... it's this operating room..."

Alex's head snapped up. The light above the OR door flickered a few times. Then it went out.