Holding On

Julian's eyes burned with fury. He hadn't expected me to turn his image of a loving husband into a weapon against him. "Of course," he said.

With so many people watching, he had no choice but to agree.

I seized the phone, my lifeline, and dialed home at once. "Mom, Dad, please come save me!"

I had married far from home. My parents had set out two weeks early, planning to take care of me after I gave birth.

Julian, wanting to keep them away, had secretly fed me labor-inducing drugs so I would deliver early.

In my last life, by the time they arrived, I was already in the ICU, locked away where no one was allowed to see me.

They never questioned me. They only felt my pain and agreed to everything I asked without hesitation.

"We've arranged for the nearest hospital," my father said, trying to steady his voice. "Lexi, hold on! You must hold on!"

The nearest hospital was about a forty‑minute drive. If I could just make it through, I could save my daughter and myself.

I hung up and clung tightly to an iron pipe jutting out from the wall. "I'm not going anywhere until the doctor in charge of my transfer arrives."

Julian let out a bitter laugh. My defiance was shredding his mask of gentleness.

If there hadn't been witnesses here, he would have knocked me out and dragged me into the delivery room himself.

"So, you're just missing your parents," he said with mock tenderness, patting my head. "I'll have my mom come keep you company right away."

His mother was in on it too. He wasn't calling her here to comfort me; he was calling in reinforcements.

She had never liked me. After my death in my last life, she took my inheritance for herself, even the portion meant for my parents. There wasn't a single decent soul in the Steele family.

If his mother showed up, she would almost certainly create a scene to force me into the delivery room.

I pulled out the phone and hit record.

"From this moment on, I, Lexi Summers, retain full decision‑making authority over myself," I said clearly. "No one except my parents may make medical decisions on my behalf, not even my husband. This recording is made publicly and has legal force."

Julian's expression darkened even further. He hadn't thought I would go this far.

With this recording, the hospital staff wouldn't dare touch me without my consent.

The onlookers' eyes shifted to him, searching his face as though trying to piece together just how badly he had wronged me, and what could make me so desperate that I would publicly deny him the right to speak as my family.

I had expected Julian to back down. Instead, his lips curled, his tone going cold.

"Babe, if you've been struggling with prenatal anxiety, why didn't you just tell me? I guess it's my fault. I've been too busy with work to pay attention to you." Then came his sneer. "An anxious patient's statement has no legal standing."

There it was again, his favorite tactic, branding me as mentally unstable.

"Lexi, once you give birth, all this will be over."

With a single command, Julian's assistants swarmed me, pinning me down.

He used his privileges to order a powerful labor‑inducing injection and jabbed it straight into my lower back.

The drug hit fast. Intense contractions tore through me like fire.

I clutched my belly and screamed. The pain drained every ounce of strength from me.

He was using the agony of childbirth to shackle my freedom. His assistants forced me back onto the delivery bed. My mind went blank from the pain.

As they tried to push me into the delivery room, I clutched the doorframe with both hands, refusing to let go.

"Get me full video documentation of this delivery." I gasped, eyes blazing. "Julian, do you dare?"

Labor Room Betrayal

The hospital offered video-recording services.

In my last life, I'd asked for it because it would be meaningful for my husband to deliver our baby himself.

Julian refused outright. He said it was a waste of money.

It only cost 600, a day's pay for me. He wasn't worried about money. He was afraid anyone watching would interfere with his plan to switch the babies.

Julian ground his teeth but kept his voice calm as he tried to soothe me. "Fine. You can go into the delivery room first. The camera crew will follow."

"No." I panted. "The camera has to go in with me. If it doesn't, I'll jump off the building."

I threatened him with my life. He didn't care whether I lived or died. What he cared about was making sure he had a healthy baby to swap for Sienna.

He was afraid that if she delivered a deformed child, she'd lose dignity and her career as a star.

He signaled his assistants to stand down. He looked like he wanted to kill me, but he didn't dare, just as I'd expected.

Time ticked away. Fifteen minutes left. As soon as the transfer van arrived, my daughter and I would be safe.

"Ms. Summers, I'm begging you…" Sienna emerged from the delivery room, clutching her belly. Her eyes blazed with hatred. Sweat had soaked her gown; her face was ashen.

She was six centimeters dilated. In as little as thirty minutes, she would deliver that malformed child. Everyone would know she'd given birth to a deformed baby.

I had ruined her plan; of course she was here to rush things.

"Think of other patients, if not your own baby," she scolded. "What if someone loses theirs because of your stubbornness? Could you live with that?"

Her words drew cheers.

Some onlookers immediately pulled out their phones and started live-streaming. "Kind and beautiful Sienna's stopping a troublemaker in the hospital!"

She launched her public image as an innocent beauty. After a whirlwind marriage and divorce, she discovered she was pregnant and carefully crafted a brand as an independent mother.

Once my daughter was in her hands, she used her on TV to make money while also treating her as an outlet for her rage.

Whenever she saw negative comments online, she took it out on my daughter by beating her, stabbing her with needles, and burning her. My little girl was left brain-damaged from the abuse.

Today, I wanted revenge for my daughter and for myself.

I would ruin her, so I asked Julian. "If Ms. Zeller's so desperate, why don't you deliver for her first?"

Sienna fell silent and sent Julian a furtive look.

"That won't work," she replied. "Dr. Steele is worried about you. I'm afraid that if he loses his focus, he won't do a good job."

"You think Julian isn't skilled enough?" I smiled. "Fine. We can switch to another doctor to deliver both of us."

"No!" Sienna blurted.

She immediately realized she'd slipped and clamped her hands over her belly, sobbing. She was about to deliver; she couldn't afford any delay.

Julian's anxiety was obvious. He fumbled with his phone and tapped a few times. Fans who had been waiting downstairs suddenly surged in.

"Don't hold up Sienna's delivery!"

"If you don't want to give birth, just go die already!"

"She'll only learn her lesson if she gives birth to a freak."

They hurled the vilest insults at me.

"Ms. Summers, you've angered everyone." Sienna signaled to her followers. "So, you should just go in."

A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and a surge of people shoved my delivery bed forward.

The transfer van still hadn't arrived.

A contraction hit. I looked into the phones that were livestreaming. This might be my last chance.

"Sienna, you're the one carrying the malformed baby!" I shouted. "You're terrified people will find out what you did during your pregnancy that caused your child to be deformed, aren't you?"

All eyes turned to Sienna.

Her face, made up to perfection, twisted. "That's a lie. I didn't—"

"Get her inside now! I won't let her spread lies!"

Julian slapped me hard across the face.

"My wife's mentally unstable. She's lost it," he said, eyes dark. "Get the anesthesiologist and put her under now!"