At first, there was emptiness.

I couldn’t feel the hospital bed beneath me. I couldn’t sense the weight of my arms or legs. Even the burning pain that should have filled my lungs—lungs that had swallowed seawater instead of air—was absent. My body lay motionless, hollow, as if abandoned. Yet my mind floated somewhere in between, neither fully asleep nor awake, drifting in a fog of half-awareness.

That was when voices seeped through the darkness.

“Sir, we can’t take any more blood.” The doctor’s voice trembled with urgency. “She nearly drowned. Her lungs were flooded. Her body is already failing. If we continue, she won’t survive—especially when she’s carrying your child.”

Pregnant?

The word echoed violently in my head, snapping something awake inside me. No. That couldn’t be right. I had never suspected it—not once. My body had always been unpredictable, my cycle unreliable. And Dominic and I were careful. Always. Protection. Precautions. I never allowed myself to hope for a child because hope required certainty—and we didn’t even have marriage.

Then I heard him.

Dominic’s voice sliced through the room, cold and merciless.

“I don’t care if she’s pregnant,” he said flatly. “And if she dies, then she dies. What does it matter?” His next words were even crueler. “Her blood matches Helena’s. Helena needs it more. If I have to choose, I’ll pick Helena every time. Seraphina is nothing. She isn’t even my wife. Proceed.”

The machines hummed louder, blending into an unbearable roar. My thoughts shattered. I wanted to scream, to move, to beg them to stop—but my body refused to obey. The darkness rushed back in, swallowing everything whole.

When I surfaced again, pain greeted me like a tidal wave.

My veins felt hollow, my muscles screamed, and my entire body throbbed as though life itself had been siphoned out of me. The words I’d heard before tangled with my thoughts. Had it really happened? Or was it just a nightmare born from trauma?

A nurse noticed my eyes flutter open and approached with a tight, sympathetic smile. “Miss Seraphina, please don’t move. You lost a significant amount of blood. You were rescued after drowning and brought here unconscious. You need rest.”

My throat burned as I swallowed. “I… was I pregnant?” The question barely made it past my lips.

She paused, surprise flickering across her face before her expression softened. “There’s no indication of that in your records.”

But I knew. I had heard them. I felt it—in the aching emptiness deep inside me. My chest tightened, my womb felt unbearably hollow. Tears slid silently down my temples.

“What about… my husband?” The word tasted bitter even as I said it. Dominic wasn’t my husband. Just the man I had loved. The man who carried Adrian’s heart. The man I had trusted with everything.

“Did anyone come to see me?” I asked.

The nurse hesitated before shaking her head. “No. You’ve been unconscious for three days. No visitors.”

I forced my lips into a fragile smile. “Please… I want to be alone.”

Once she left, the silence crushed me.

That was when the real pain settled in—not the physical agony, but the kind that gnawed relentlessly at the soul. I had mistaken familiarity for love. I had believed five years of devotion meant commitment. I had convinced myself that his care was genuine.

But to him, I had never been love.

I was convenience. I was pity. I was a substitute.

And I was foolish enough to mistake borrowed warmth for permanence.

My thoughts drifted back to Adrian.

Adrian—reckless, fearless, alive in every sense of the word. He had never made me doubt my worth. With him, love was certain. Honest. Fierce. If he were alive, he would never have abandoned me in a hospital bed. He would have fought the world for me.

And now his heart beat inside the man who destroyed me.

The irony was unbearable.

I waited all day, staring at the door, hoping Dominic would walk in. He never did.

By nightfall, something inside me finally broke.

Ignoring the pain tearing through my body, I forced myself out of bed, the IV tugging sharply at my arm. The hallway was dim, eerily quiet. That was when I heard it—his voice.

I froze in place.

“Are you sure it’s okay for you to stay here?” Helena murmured softly. “What about Seraphina? You took so much of her blood for me.”

Dominic laughed under his breath. “She’ll survive. And even if she doesn’t—so what? She’s insignificant.” His voice hardened. “The baby’s gone anyway. She’ll never find out.”

The world tilted.

Baby. Gone. Never know.

He continued without mercy. “I never loved her. I pitied her.” His voice faltered briefly before turning sharp again. “Adrian died because of me. I was drunk. I hit his car. I killed him. His family gave me his heart out of sympathy, never knowing the truth. When you left me, I was shattered. So I used her. She was nothing more than a replacement. But now you’re back—and divorced—let’s finally get married.”

Helena gasped. “Dominic… yes. I would love to. I always regretted leaving you.”

My stomach churned violently. I pressed myself against the wall, barely holding myself upright.

Every truth he revealed ripped something out of me.

Dominic—the man I had loved for five years—was the reason Adrian was dead. All the nights I mourned, all the tears I shed, I never imagined the monster lay beside me. He had killed Adrian. Then he took his heart. Then he took my life, piece by piece.

The man who carried Adrian’s heart was the very one who destroyed him.

My breath came out in broken gasps. Grief tangled with rage until I couldn’t separate them anymore.

I staggered away blindly, desperate to escape. My gaze landed on a phone resting on a nearby desk. With shaking hands, I grabbed it.

There was only one number I had memorized. One final lifeline.

When the call connected, my voice cracked completely. “Brother… it’s me. Seraphina.”

There was silence. Then a sharp breath.

“Do you still care about me?” I whispered through tears. “If you do… please help me.” My hands clenched the receiver. “Help me disappear. Help me fake my death.”

“Do you still care about me?”

Hot tears spilled freely, splashing onto the phone as I pressed it tightly against my ear. My voice fractured under the weight of everything I was holding back. “If you do… please. I’m begging you. Help me disappear. Help me fake my death.”

Nothing answered me at first.

The silence stretched unbearably long, sharp enough to cut. Then a harsh laugh broke through, bitter and unforgiving.

“Now?” my brother snapped. “You’re asking for my help now? After all this time? After you turned your back on us? After you chose him over your own family?” His anger crackled through the line. “You betrayed us. You betrayed Adrian. All for that man. And now you expect me to save you?”

My chest rose and fell erratically. “I know,” I sobbed. “I know I was wrong. I see it now—too late. But please, you have to hear this.” My words poured out in pieces, broken and desperate. “He’s the reason Adrian died. He killed him… just so he could have his heart.” My breath hitched painfully. “And our baby—he took that too. I was blind. I should’ve never loved anyone after Adrian. Never.”

My fingers cramped as I clenched the receiver harder. “Please,” I whispered. “Come get me. I’ll do anything you ask. I swear. Anything.”

The line went quiet again.

Then, at last, I heard him exhale. “So you finally woke up.” His voice was calmer now, but heavy. “Fine. I’ll come for you in five days. Fix everything on your end. After that, you’re done with him—completely. No turning back. Do you understand?”

My legs nearly gave out as relief collided painfully with dread. “Yes,” I breathed. “I understand. Yes.”

The phone slipped from my hand. My body trembled uncontrollably as the room tilted and darkened around me. I couldn’t stay upright anymore. Everything faded—and I passed out.

When I regained consciousness, I was pressed against Dominic’s chest.

His arms steadied me as he gently shook my shoulders. “Seraphina? Why are you out here?” His voice sounded worried, tender. “You’re not well yet. You shouldn’t be walking around. Come on—if you collapse again—”

That voice. The same one that once convinced me I was cherished.

He carried me back to my room and carefully laid me on the bed, his touch soft enough to almost feel sincere.

“Seraphina,” he murmured, brushing the damp strands of hair from my face. “I’m sorry. Truly. I shouldn’t have left you alone. I should’ve been there when you woke up.” His apologies flowed smoothly. “Work overwhelmed me. The company needed my attention. I didn’t mean to ignore you.”

The words sounded sweet—but they were hollow.

I turned my face away, burying my tears before they could betray me. Playing ignorant was all I had left. Lowering my eyes, I whispered weakly, “It’s okay, Dominic. I’m sorry too… for causing trouble. For making you worry.”

Inside, my heart screamed. I already knew the truth—his regret wasn’t meant for me. Helena’s name weighed heavier on his conscience than mine ever had. Still, I nodded obediently, pretending I was the same woman he thought he controlled. Because pretending hurt less than breaking apart in front of him.

He fed me warm soup, one careful spoonful at a time, his gaze heavy with practiced remorse.

Once, I would’ve believed him.

Now, I knew every apology was just a performance meant to keep me quiet.

Then the door flew open.

“Sir Dominic!” the butler cried. “Something’s wrong with Miss Helena again. She’s vomiting badly. The doctor says you need to come at once!”

The instant Helena’s name was spoken, Dominic stood up abruptly. In his haste, the bowl tipped from his hand. Scalding soup spilled across my arm.

I screamed as pain ripped through my skin.

He didn’t even turn around.

Didn’t hesitate.

And just like that—he was gone.

I cradled my burned arm, shaking with both agony and fury. Through blurred vision, I treated the wound myself, pressing cold compresses against my skin while silent tears streamed down my face.

That was it.

I was done.

The following morning, I signed my own discharge papers. Weak and sore, I dragged myself out of the hospital and went straight to the cemetery.

Adrian’s grave.

The moment I saw his name, my strength vanished. I collapsed before the stone, my fingers tracing each carved letter. “I’m sorry,” I whispered through tears. “I’m so sorry.” My voice cracked. “I loved the wrong man. I let myself be deceived. The man who carries your heart is the same one who destroyed you… and me.”

My tears soaked into the soil as though I could somehow bring him back. Exhausted by grief, I drifted into a haze—and felt warmth surround me.

In my dream, Adrian held me. His arms were solid, familiar. He pressed his lips to my hair and whispered softly, You’re not alone.

When I woke, my face was wet with tears. Yet the echo of his embrace lingered, steadying my heart.

I forced myself home, struggling to breathe properly, my chest tight with exhaustion. That was when I saw it.

A massive billboard loomed above the city, lights blazing against the night sky. The headline was impossible to miss:

“Second Chances Taste Sweeter: Dominic Blackwood to Marry Helena Moore.”

The photo mocked me—Dominic smiling brightly, Helena glowing beside him.

I stood frozen, my heart emptied of everything.

So that was why he never married me. Why every promise faded into nothing.

But I didn’t cry.

There were no tears left to give. Love had burned itself out.

Because in five days, I would be dead.

And when I was gone—every single one of them would finally feel the weight of what they’d done.

The fever wrapped around me like iron restraints, scorching me from the inside. My body shook uncontrollably beneath the covers, sweat seeping through the thin sheets, clinging to my skin. But the heat wasn’t what tortured me the most.

It was the dream.

Adrian.

He stood before me, smiling the way he always had—wide, playful, full of life. That familiar grin that made everything feel safe. We were back on the mountain trails, the air crisp, the sky endless. His fingers laced through mine as he pulled me forward, laughing.

“Hurry up, Seraphina,” he teased. “Don’t be afraid. I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall.”

In the dream, I laughed too—light, unburdened, free in a way I hadn’t felt in years. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead, warm and certain. His eyes held promises he never broke.

When we get back down, let’s get married, he had said once, half-joking. But I knew he meant every word.

Then the world shifted.

His footing slipped. The ground gave way. Adrian fell, his hand reaching for mine, his voice torn away by the rushing wind.

I screamed his name, over and over, until my throat burned raw.

“Adrian! Adrian!”

My own cry yanked me out of the dream.

I shot upright, chest heaving, tears pouring down my face.

But it wasn’t Adrian sitting beside me.

It was Dominic.

He sat in the chair near my bed, arms crossed, his expression dark and mocking.

“So that’s how it is,” he sneered. “Even now, you’re still crying for him.” His lips twisted cruelly. “You shout his name like a grieving widow. I’m sitting right here, Seraphina, yet it’s always Adrian.”

My heart lurched painfully. I wiped at my tears, shaking my head. “Dominic, I didn’t—”

He didn’t let me finish. “This is exactly why marriage is off the table.” He rose to his feet, looming over me. “Why would I marry a woman who’s still obsessed with a dead man? Forget it. There’s no point.”

The words struck hard, but he wasn’t done.

“Helena will be staying here from now on,” he added coldly. “She needs care.” He paused, then delivered the blow. “She’s pregnant.”

Everything inside me went numb. “What did you say?”

“You heard me,” he replied flatly, his gaze unyielding. “You’ll prepare her meals. She needs to eat properly.”

A hollow laugh escaped my lips, though they trembled violently. “I’m not your servant, Dominic.”

His eyes darkened. “You are to me. You’re useless otherwise.” His voice turned sharp. “If you don’t like it, then leave.”

Tears burned behind my eyes, but I forced them back. “So this is it? You’re with her now? You’re marrying her?” My voice cracked. “Then what was I to you, Dominic? What did I ever mean?”

The slap came without warning.

Pain exploded across my cheek as my head snapped to the side.

“You dare ask me that?” he shouted. “When you can’t even let go of Adrian?” His voice thundered. “Don’t think I didn’t know—you went to his grave. You cried there after telling me you loved me. You’re a hypocrite!”

Something inside me shattered completely.

“You used me,” he sneered. “So what if I use you too? That’s all this ever was. Nothing more.”

“I don’t want this,” I whispered, my voice shaking, barely audible.

“I’m not asking,” he snapped. “I’m giving you an order.”

At that moment, the door opened and Helena stepped inside. Her complexion was pale, her voice gentle. “Are you arguing because of me? I’m sorry, Dominic. I didn’t mean to cause trouble—”

He immediately pulled her into his arms. “No, Helena. Don’t apologize.” His gaze flicked toward me. “She’ll cook for you. It’s time she repays everything she’s taken from me.”

I didn’t have the strength to argue anymore.

My cheek throbbed, my body shook, my heart felt like it was bleeding out. I lowered my head and walked into the kitchen.

My hands trembled as I chopped vegetables, my vision swimming with tears. The knife slipped once, nearly slicing my skin, but I kept going. I just wanted it over with.

Helena approached hesitantly. “Seraphina… let me help you.”

I shook my head. “No. It’s fine. You don’t need to.”

She lingered anyway, fidgeting. I turned back to the cutting board, but my grip—already weakened by fever—failed me. The knife slipped again.

This time, it nicked Helena’s finger as she reached for the plate.

She gasped as blood surfaced.

Dominic rushed in instantly, fury blazing in his eyes. Without listening, his hand struck my face again—harder—sending me crashing against the counter.

“You hurt her?” he bellowed. “Are you out of your mind?”

“I didn’t mean to—she reached for—” My voice broke.

Helena whispered weakly, “It’s not her fault, Dominic. Please—”

But his rage drowned her out.

He hit me again. And again.

I lost count. Pain blurred into numbness. I could barely stand.

“Apologize!” he barked.

“No,” I rasped, blood coating my lips. “It wasn’t my fault—”

His expression turned icy.

Then he shoved me with brutal force.

My body flew backward, slamming into the sliding doors that led to the pool.

The water engulfed me instantly.

Cold. Heavy. Suffocating.

I thrashed, gasping, terror clawing through me. I couldn’t swim—not since the cruise. Water meant panic. Water meant death.

I clawed at the surface, choking. “Dominic! Please—help me!”

“Dominic!” Helena cried. “She’s drowning—do something!”

But he didn’t move.

He stood there, gripping Helena’s arm, his voice chillingly calm. “No. Let her drown. She brought this on herself.”

Water flooded my lungs. My body convulsed. Through the blur, I saw Helena clutch his sleeve, shaking her head. “Please, Dominic… don’t let her die.”

She looked concerned. Almost tearful.

But when his attention shifted for just a second, I saw it.

The smile.

Small. Cold. Victorious.

She wanted this.

She wanted me gone.

My strength faded completely as the water dragged me under, pulling me into darkness once more.