My husband, Peter Sullivan, was obsessed with his first love who got kidnapped.

When she was found, Nicole Cooper was pregnant with another man's child.

While I was due to give birth soon, Peter forced me to sign the divorce agreement.

"The doctor said Nicole's womb is fragile," he said. "If she loses this baby, she might never have another. I'll keep supporting you and our kid, but I can only be the father to her child."

He once promised me forever. Now it proved to be just a lie.

I looked at him and agreed without a fight.

In fact, this was my third time living this life.

This time, I just wanted to protect my baby and survive.

Peter Sullivan was thrown off by my calm agreement.

His prepared speech had no use now, but he warned me sternly, "Don't play games with me. If this gets out and hurts Nicole, you're done."

My nails dug into my palms. Memories of my past two lives, both ending in tragedy, flashed vividly.

I paused, saying, "I will divorce you, but you have to sign away your parental rights."

He agreed without hesitation, and the revised agreement was soon ready.

I checked every detail and signed it. Peter snatched the document and grinned.

Then he pulled out his phone, dialing Nicole. At the door, he turned back. "Move out as soon as you can. Don't upset Nicole and affect her pregnancy."

His words stung, and I forced a smile.

In my first life, I clung to hope, thinking the birth of our baby would fix our marriage. I fought and cried, stopping Nicole from marrying him.

Then her scandal of carrying another man's child was exposed. She couldn't handle the gossip and jumped to her death.

Peter barely blinked, never mentioning her again after her funeral.

But when our baby turned one month old, kidnappers took us both, demanding a fortune from Peter. He refused to pay and just listened as they tortured me.

That was when I realized he had never given up on avenging Nicole.

In my second life, I took the divorce settlement and left with my baby.

But when Nicole miscarried, Peter let her take her rage out on me. She locked me and my baby in a dark stable where terrified horses trampled us to death.

I touched my swollen belly, determined to stay away from the two maniacs.

A loud knock jolted me. Before I could react, the housekeeper barged in with a group of people.

"Ms. Clark, we're cleaning the room," Melva said brusquely. "You need to leave"

It was ironic. The divorce wasn't even final, and I was already stripped of my title.

I took a deep breath and started packing. But when I grabbed the baby clothes, Melva yanked them away.

"These were bought with Mr. Sullivan's money. You've got no right to take them," she said, tossing the clothes into a trash bag.

At her signal, a younger maid dragged over an old suitcase and threw it at my feet.

"Take your junk and get out," Melva sneered.

The suitcase hit the floor, its zipper breaking open. Filthy, torn clothes spilled out, tumbling down the stairs to the hall below.

A sour stench filled the air.

...

"Oh my God! What is this? Gross!" Nicole cried out downstairs.

Melva froze, then snapped at me, "You timed this to scare Mrs. Sullivan when she walked in, didn't you?"

I trembled with rage, ready to argue, but Nicole's eyes welled up.

She clung to Peter, whimpering, "If Hollie doesn't want me here, she can just say so. Why did she do this? What if those clothes carry germs?"

She gagged dramatically. Peter patted her back, easing her onto a sofa.

Then he turned to glare at me. "Get down here and apologize to Nicole."

Melva's lies were bad enough, but Peter's attitude cut deeper.

I stood my ground. "It wasn't me."

He signaled to Melva, who immediately grabbed me and dragged me down the stairs with the other maids.

I stumbled on the last few steps and fell to the ground.

Pain shot through my belly. It felt just like the trample of horses from my second life.

Terrified for my baby's safety, I curled up on the floor and begged, "It hurts. Please, call an ambulance for me."

Peter wavered, but Nicole grabbed his arm.

"The carpet's thick," she said. "No way that fall hurts. She is just faking and doesn't want to apologize to me."

Peter's face hardened. "Apologize to Nicole, or you're not going anywhere."

I bit my lip, fumbling for my phone.

Before I could dial 911, a high heel stomped on my hand. Another crushed my phone.

Nicole's voice floated above me, light and cruel.

"I changed my mind," she said. "Let's keep Hollie here to help me out. She's further along, so she's gotta know how to care for a pregnant woman."

I winced, glancing at her. Her eyes were glinting coldly, sending a shiver down my spine.

"My due date is soon. I can't help you," I blurted. "I'm sorry for upsetting you. I'll leave now."

Peter's voice boomed. "How could you ignore Nicole's kindness like that? Except for the day you give birth, you're staying here to take care of her."

He saw my pale face but still added condescendingly, "Do a good job, and your child gets fancy formula too."

Behind him, Nicole mouthed with a smirk, "I'm not done with you."

I shivered, realizing she had been reborn again, too.

In my second life, as I lay dying in that stable, she hissed, "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have jumped to my death. You think giving up Peter makes us even? Hand over that heirloom!"

That was when I knew she'd been reborn like me.

She had killed me once. That would be enough.

Now I just wanted to escape with my baby. Still, she wouldn't let me go.

...

"Melva, get her some maid clothes and take her to the kitchen," Peter ordered. "She's cooking for Nicole."

He scooped up Nicole and softened. "Let's get you upstairs to rest."

The maids surrounded me, leaving no way out. I sighed, getting up from the ground and following them to the kitchen.

When I brought the steaming oatmeal to their room, Nicole was in a flimsy nightgown, her figure barely showing a bump.

Peter was massaging her legs, all gentle.

My own legs were swollen and shaky, but I stood quietly.

Nicole slid her foot up, teasing him. He sucked in a sharp breath, letting out a suppressed growl. He pressed down on her foot and glanced at me.

"Oatmeal is getting cold," he said. "You want some?"

Nicole pouted. "Are you tired of me already?"

He melted, pulling her close. "I'd never. I just didn't want to hurt you."

She cut him off with a kiss. Soon, their gasps and moans filled the room, but neither of them sent me away.

By 3 a.m., they finally quieted down. The oatmeal had congealed, just like my heart.

Melva let me go. Now that my bedroom had been locked, she dumped me in a cramped storage room downstairs.

After she bolted the door, I slumped against the wall, forcing down the cold oatmeal. No matter what, I'd protect my baby. He was the only family I had left in this world.

Born an orphan, I had always craved a family.

In high school, Peter was my sunshine. I felt unworthy, only watching him from afar.

When his family went bankrupt and his parents died, I gathered my courage and found him in the street.

His family had once sponsored me, so I took him in naturally. I cooked for him, gave him every penny I had, and encouraged him to start over.

In my dingy apartment, he proposed, promising me a real home.

But when Nicole came back, it all fell apart. My years of devotion couldn't compete with his childhood crush.

My mind wandered until I caught something important.