“Sir, if we don’t get her to the hospital right now, she might not survive. Are you really planning to use the fetus in your wife’s womb as a cure for Mrs. Maeve?”

The butler, who had seen more than his share of crises in his twenty years of service, was in a panic. Even for him, the gruesome scene unfolding before his eyes was too much.

Claudine Pitts lay unconscious in a pool of blood. Her face was deathly pale and the lower half of her body was a ghastly mess. Her consciousness flickered in and out.

But Elliot Graves didn’t waver for a second.

“That’s what the shaman said—only this unborn child can save Maeve! Her life depends on it!”

He barked his orders without a shred of remorse.

“Don’t just stand there! Get the baby out of her now—while she’s still unconscious!”

The butler froze in disbelief.

“Sir! That’s a human life! You can’t play with it! And don’t forget, she spent an entire day submerged in freezing water for you. The doctors said she might never be able to conceive again. If you do this, she might never carry another child for the rest of her life!”

Panicking, he pulled out his phone to call 911, but Elliot lunged forward, snatched it from his hands and smashed it to pieces.

“If you’re not gonna do it. Move! Get me a knife—I’ll do it myself!”

Elliot’s hand moved with terrifying precision. Cold. Calculated.

And then he stumbled away, clutching something like it was the most precious thing in the world.

Only after he disappeared did the butler rush to Claudine’s side, finally calling for help and getting her to the hospital.

No one knew—Claudine had never lost consciousness entirely.

Her eyelashes fluttered weakly, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t open her eyes.

The pain was too much. It was a kind of pain that felt worse than having her heart ripped from her chest.

The sharp scent of disinfectant invaded her nostrils as she lay on the hospital bed. The room was dark, the windows pitch black against the night.

She instinctively reached for her belly.

Her baby… her only child… was gone.

Just hours ago, Claudine had been pushed down the stairs by her sister-in-law, Maeve Waller, during an explosive argument. The cause? Claudine had refused Mrs. Graves’s outrageous proposal—to let Elliot take on a second wife and give Maeve a child.

A week earlier, the Graves Family had been ambushed by an old enemy. Both brothers were kidnapped, and in the end, Melvin—Elliot’s older brother and Maeve’s husband—died shielding him from a bullet. Maeve, a newlywed, had become a widow in the blink of an eye.

Consumed by grief, Maeve spiraled. She tried to end her life multiple times, only to be stopped each time.

Desperate, Mrs. Graves had come up with what she called a “solution”: Elliot would father a child with Maeve. It would give Maeve a reason to live and preserve the Graves Family line. She framed it like an act of duty.

Elliot refused at first, but things escalated quickly—and violently. In the heat of it all, Maeve shoved Claudine, sending her tumbling down the stairs. Claudine, who was pregnant at the time, never stood a chance.

Now, in the cold silence of the hospital room, a soft moan broke through the dark.

“Mmh… Elliot, no… not here. Claudine’s right next to us.”

Maeve’s voice, sweet and breathy, was followed by the slick, unmistakable sound of two bodies tangled in the filthiest kind of betrayal.

“She’s still out cold. It’s fine,” Elliot muttered, unbothered.

“If we didn’t stage all this, someone as selfish as her would’ve never willingly given up that baby for you. Maeve, your illness… it’s finally going to be cured.”

Their bodies moved faster, the rhythm cruel and unapologetic. The curtain between their hospital bed and Claudine’s barely muffled the moans or the thumping of the headboard.

“Maeve,” Elliot whispered between gasps, “we’re going to have a child. A real Graves heir—just you and me.”

His voice was dripping with affection, adoration even, as he held Maeve tightly and buried himself deeper into her. They rode wave after wave of pleasure, until they both came undone with matching cries.

Not once did they stop to consider the broken woman just feet away—bleeding, empty and awake.

In the corner of the room, unnoticed and forgotten, Claudine shed a single tear. It slid down her cheek, silently soaking into the pillow.

Elliot didn’t stop that night. Over and over, he reached for Maeve, like Claudine was already gone. Like she’d never mattered.

By morning, Claudine had had enough.

She ripped out her IV, stumbled out of bed and left the hospital without looking back.

Later that day, she slammed a stack of papers down on Mrs. Graves’s polished mahogany desk.

“You got what you wanted. I’m walking away from Elliot,” she said, her voice icy but controlled. “But I have one condition—I’m taking every cent of the Pitts Family fortune with me. And I want ten million dollars.”

Mrs. Graves’ smile froze halfway across her face.

She had been expecting Claudine to back down. But ten million? That was not part of the plan.

For a few tense seconds, Mrs. Graves hesitated. Then, grinding her teeth, she gave a reluctant nod.

“Fine. I’ll agree to it. But only if you promise—swear on whatever you hold dear—that you’ll never show your face in front of my son again. You know exactly what’ll happen if you do.”

Her lips curled into a tight, smug smile. There was a threatening undertone behind her controlled voice, like she’d been expecting this moment all along.

Without missing a beat, she turned to her butler.

“Draw up the contract.”

Claudine didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. She signed her name without hesitation.

“I’ll make sure you get every last cent,” Mrs. Graves said, her eyes flicking over the signature with thinly veiled contempt. “I’ll wire fifty million into your account today. The rest comes after you disappear for good.”

“I’ll have your exit arranged in a week. International flight, one-way.”

Her tone was dismissive, triumphant even. She didn’t hide the disgust in her eyes, nor the thrill she felt seeing Claudine finally step out of their lives.

Claudine knew. She had always known.

Mrs. Graves had never seen her as anything more than a nuisance. After Mr. Graves died, she pulled every string, used every trick in the book to force Elliot into a divorce. But back then, Elliot had stood in front of her like a fortress.

“She’s my wife. The only one I’ll ever have,” he’d declared in front of everyone. “If any of you bring this up again, I swear I’ll end my life right here.”

His threat had silenced them all.

After all, Claudine had no family. No legacy. Her only support had been the Pitts Family—until now.

Steadying herself, she met Mrs. Graves’s cold stare with calm defiance.

“No need to arrange anything. I’ll leave on my own in a week.”

Mrs. Graves smiled, smug and satisfied.

“Good. Smart girl. Now be a good dog and get out of my way.”

The words dripped with venom.

What none of them knew was that Claudine wasn’t even a blood relative of the Pitts Family. She’d been adopted. Three days ago, her biological brother had reached out, asking her to come home and reclaim her real name.

But everyone had been too preoccupied mourning Elliot’s brother to care. It was the most fragile moment in the Graves Family's history. She had planned to wait before telling anyone.

Now… what was the point?

“One more thing,” Claudine said coolly. “Don’t tell Elliot about this.”

Just as the words left her mouth, the door burst open and Elliot stormed in, his face a storm of rage and panic.

“Mom! Are you pressuring Claudine again? About having a child with Maeve? I’m warning you—I’ll never agree to something so sick and twisted!”

He positioned himself firmly between Claudine and his mother, shielding her with every ounce of righteous anger he could summon.

Claudine looked at his back, her heart hollow.

In another time, she might’ve cried from relief. But now? Now it just felt pathetic.

Disgusting.

Sick and twisted? And yet he’d spent the night making love to Maeve in the hospital room next to hers.

Mrs. Graves opened her mouth to speak, but met Claudine’s eyes and thought better of it.

“Someday, you’ll agree to it,” she muttered instead, before walking out with her usual air of superiority.

Elliot pulled Claudine into his arms, his voice trembling.

“Claudine, why didn’t you wait for me? I was so scared when you disappeared... I thought something happened to you.”

But Claudine’s face remained blank.

If she hadn’t left, was she supposed to stay and keep listening to his moans through a paper-thin curtain?

She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.

“Claudine,” Elliot said softly, “even if the doctors say you’ll never have children again, I don’t care. You’ll always be my wife. If it really comes to it, I’ll adopt. I don’t need—”

His voice buzzed in her ears. She couldn’t hear a word.

Then she cut him off coldly.

“Elliot, go ahead. Have a child with Maeve. The Graves Family needs an heir.”

Her words sliced through the air like a blade.

Elliot’s expression twisted in shock and fury.

“Did my mom put this idea in your head? I’m going to talk to her right now!”

Claudine’s strange reaction made Elliot feel uneasy. Could she already know about him and Maeve?

But before she could say a word, a loud commotion came from outside.

“Mr. Graves! Mrs. Melvin passed out again!”

Elliot rushed out as fast as he could.

He cradled Maeve’s unconscious body tightly, his eyes filled with panic and fury.

“Call the doctor! What are you all standing around for?”

The hallway broke into chaos. Soon, Elliot sat at Maeve’s bedside, his face heavy with worry as he fired questions at the doctor.

“You told me she'd be fine as long as she took the medicine. Why did she faint again?”

The doctor, however, was all smiles.

“Congratulations, Mr. Graves—Mrs. Maeve is pregnant. She’s about two months along!”

Claudine froze for a moment. Maeve and Melvin had only been married for half a month and she had once accidentally seen Melvin's medical report—he had azoospermia, meaning he would never be able to have children.

So, the baby Maeve was carrying… It didn’t take a genius to guess whose it was.

Mrs. Graves rushed over, clutching Maeve’s hand with excitement, showering her with comfort and praise.

Elliot’s face lit up, unable to hide the joy in his eyes. He and Maeve shared a look so intimate, it might as well have been silk threads drawing them together.

Claudine closed her eyes, face numb and turned to leave.

But Maeve called out behind her.

“Claudine, aren’t you happy for me? I’m pregnant.”

Maeve looked at her, half-smiling with smug amusement.

Claudine opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, Mrs. Graves shot her a sharp, scornful look.

“What’s with that face? Can’t have kids yourself and now you’re upset Maeve’s pregnant? Even a hen lays eggs eventually.”

“Maeve’s the capable one here—barely married a few weeks and already expecting. Not like you, always bringing bad luck. Got your own parents killed and now you've lost a child too, leaving the Graves Family without an heir. You’re absolutely useless.”

Claudine had grown used to Mrs. Graves’ constant jabs, but this time, her eyes drifted slowly to Elliot.

He didn’t say a word.

Didn’t stop them.

Didn’t defend her.

Just watched in silence.

“It’s okay, Claudine,” Maeve added, voice sugar-sweet. “I know you’re still grieving your loss. Here, take this bracelet— consider this a gift for your child.”

At that moment, Claudine finally noticed—the only heirloom her mother had left her, the bracelet, was now in Maeve’s hands.

Her pupils dilated in shock. She stepped forward on instinct to grab it, but Elliot shoved her back with force.

“Claudine, be reasonable. Maeve’s pregnant now. It’s just a bracelet. I’ll buy you another one—heck, I’ll buy you a few.”

She staggered backward, staring at Elliot with disbelief.

He knew.

He knew what that bracelet meant to her.

Elliot looked away, guilt flickering across his face.

“You know how much it means to me, don’t you?” Claudine’s voice cracked. “It was the last thing my mother left me!”

Her eyes burned red as she screamed, voice hoarse with fury.

She could endure everything else—but not this.

“Ugh, a keepsake? How morbid.” Maeve sneered, peeling the silver bracelet off her wrist with exaggerated disgust.

With a loud crack, she let it fall to the floor, where it shattered into jagged pieces.

“Claudine, that’s enough! You’re being completely out of line!” Elliot roared.

She knelt down, trembling hands gathering the shards, her eyes wide with disbelief.

This was the first time Elliot had ever raised his voice at her—for Maeve’s sake.

“For now, stay away from Maeve. You need to reflect on your behavior.”

He turned to the staff.

“Take her to her room. No one lets her out unless I say so.”

Claudine clenched her fists until her nails pierced her palms, the sharp pain the only thing anchoring her to reality.

“Don’t touch me!”

She yanked her arm away and walked off without looking back.

She was done with all of it.