"The children are perfectly fine in the nursery—stop using them as an excuse!"

I begged her repeatedly to return my children—they needed emergency treatment.

Her face twisted in disgust as she shook off my hand impatiently.

"Enough with the act. If you’d just behaved, I wouldn’t have touched those two bastards. Oh, and at tomorrow’s press conference, you’ll publicly admit that you were the infertile one, that you were useless, which is why I had Quentin with Lucian."

"Then you’ll transfer all your shares and assets to him and his child. From now on, you’ll serve them both properly."

"If you dare scheme again—if you so much as touch a single hair on his head—what I do next won’t just be to you and those bastards. Your critically ill father? Don’t expect him to keep resting peacefully in that VIP hospital room."

My eyes widened in disbelief.

"Helena, have you no conscience?! My father is in a vegetative coma because he saved you! How can you threaten his life?!"

Helena scoffed. "As long as you serve Lucian well, take care of Quentin, and don’t upset them, I won’t touch him."

With that, she left arm-in-arm with Lucian.

"Lucian, thank you for giving me such a perfect heir. I’ll reward you properly tonight."

Blood gushed from my wounds as I pleaded with the remaining bodyguards to take me to the hospital—to bring my children back.

Then my mother-in-law rushed in. Seeing the blood-drenched hall and my shattered legs, she paled.

"Get him to a hospital now! Where are my grandchildren?! If anything happens to them—!"

Only then were the children and I taken to the hospital. But the doctors never came.

Furious, my mother-in-law demanded answers.

The nurses hesitated.

"Mrs. Taylor... all the doctors in the city were summoned to Riverside Villa. Lucian pricked his finger during a blood draw, and Helena panicked. She ordered every physician to stand by."

"Right now... there are no doctors available."

My mother-in-law made call after call, shaking. "This is insanity! Her husband and children are dying, yet she hoards every doctor for that homewrecker and his illegitimate brat?!"

On the tenth call, Helena finally answered, annoyed.

"What now? Did Jack send you to bother me again?"

"Jack is hemorrhaging—he’s unconscious! The babies’ heartbeats have stopped! Are you trying to kill your own family?!"

Helena laughed coldly. "Did Jack put you up to this? A few slaps couldn’t cause hemorrhaging."

"And I saw those children taken to the nursery. They were fine then. Think harder before lying."

"Enough. I’m taking Quentin’s newborn photos. If he needs a doctor so badly, fine—I’ll send one."

As the call ended, my mother-in-law gripped my hand.

"Hold on, Jack. Help is coming."

I clutched my children, feeling their life fading.

In our past life, they’d died without ever opening their eyes—without even a single cry—as Helena smashed them against the floor.

Trembling, I squeezed her hand.

"Mother-in-law... three years ago, when my father fell into a coma saving Helena, you promised to treat me as your own son. That if Helena turned against me... you’d help me divorce her."

"I beg you, let me divorce her. I won't stand in the way of her first love's son inheriting anything—I just want my children to live."

Tears streamed down my mother-in-law's face as she whispered,

"Back then, it was only to repay your father's sacrifice that I agreed to take you in as my godson. But it was Helena who confessed to you, who proposed—she loved you so much. How did it come to this? That bastard Lucian ruined everything! If he hadn't returned..."

I laughed bitterly. Yes... how had my childhood sweetheart, the girl who blushed at our coming-of-age ceremony and swore to love me forever—who vowed she'd "die a thousand cuts" if she ever betrayed me—become this?

Now, for another man, she was the one carving me apart.

"Please... Mrs. Taylor," I gasped, each word a struggle.

Hearing my fading voice, she finally nodded.

"Fine! When you married, I made her sign divorce papers in secret—just in case this day came. I'll retrieve them now and expedite everything!"

"By tomorrow, I'll declare your children as my sole heirs. That ungrateful wretch and her bastard can rot!"

She left in a hurry.

Alone in the hospital bed, pain—physical and emotional—engulfed me. I screamed until my voice shattered.

The assistant my mother-in-law had left behind kept frantically checking the door for Helena's promised doctor.

At last, someone arrived.

But it wasn't a doctor—just a delivery man.

Stunned by the bloodied emergency room, he awkwardly handed over a package. A single band-aid fell out.

"Helena says... it's just a flesh wound. 'Not life-threatening.' Stick this on and stop bothering her on her wedding night."

The assistant hurled the package against the wall, eyes red.

"Sir, we're transferring you to another city—now. Hold on!"

But darkness swallowed me before I could respond.

I woke to a bucket of ice-cold water.

Helena loomed over me, disgust twisting her face.

"Enough pretending. You knew I was announcing Lucian's heir status tomorrow—yet you fled to another city? Trying to paint him as a villain?"

Behind her, Lucian cradled their child, the picture of wounded innocence.

"Mr. Jack... hate me all you want, but why involve my son? Your assistant kept screaming that my boy would be given to you—that I'm 'unfit' to be heir..."

I tried to speak, but only a choked whimper escaped. Desperate, I shook my head.

"No... I didn't... Helena, the children—they're dying—"

"Lies!" She kicked my bed. "My mother left with lawyers in the middle of the night—your doing! You think stealing Lucian's child will make you heir?"

"Those babies were born healthy! What more do you want? Using children as pawns—you're vile!"

Agony seared through my body. The blood had long dried, crusted against my skin, reeking of rust and decay.

Lucian gagged behind his hand, his voice trembling with faux distress. "Mr. Jack... you know I can't stand the smell of blood. Yet you refuse to wash—are you trying to make me faint on purpose?"

"Look at yourself!" Helena's lip curled in disgust. "A deranged, stinking mess. Pathetic."

With a wave of her hand, she ordered the bodyguards to douse me with bucket after bucket of icy water until my lips turned blue and my body seized from hypothermia. Only then did she signal them to stop.

But Lucian wasn't finished. Clutching his child, he staged a performance worthy of an award.

"Mr. Jack, I beg you—don't take my son from me! If you insist on stealing him... I'll jump from this window right now!"

He lunged toward the glass. Helena caught him just in time.

Whirling on me, she kicked away my clutching hand and leaned down, her voice a venomous whisper.

"You think scheming with my mother will make you heir? That you can steal what belongs to Lucian and his child? I've locked down the family estate. Your plans are worthless."

"And you—how many times must I warn you? Hurt Lucian or his son again, and I'll take permanent measures."

She straightened, snapping at the guards.

"He drove Lucian to suicide. Punish him accordingly. Go—rip out his father's oxygen tube and throw the old man from the roof."

"HELENA!" My scream tore through the room. "He saved your life! YOU OWE HIM EVERYTHING!"

"Debt paid." Her laugh was glacial. "Your father orchestrated my 'accident' to force a marriage—so his lowborn son could wed a Taylor heiress. Well, you got your title. I bore your 'heirs.' But your brats were too slow—Lucian's son arrived first. I owe you nothing now."

"Do it."

I lunged at the guards—only to be beaten down, my clothes shredded.

Dried wounds split open. Blood erupted like a geyser, painting the floor crimson.

I writhed, howling.

Helena moved to drag me up—then froze.

The violent motion had exposed my lacerated flesh... and the crumpled NICU surgery notice that fell from my tattered clothes.

Her face drained of color.

Suddenly she was on her knees, cradling me, whirling on Lucian and the guards.

"WHAT DID YOU DO? I said bring him here—not mutilate him! And this notice—Lucian, you swore the twins were safe with nurses!"

Lucian paled—but recovered instantly, tears welling on command. "They are safe! Jack must've faked this to frame me... but I anticipated his tricks!"

He shoved his phone at her. The screen showed a one-month-old infant in a grainy, obviously staged video.

The guards chimed in eagerly: "We'd never harm Mr. Jack! He probably wore special effects makeup to trick you, ma'am!"