"I'm finally pregnant. James has hope now at the hospital. Please help me cancel my identity in the United States. In seven days, I’ll come to Ireland and reunite with you and James."

Rosalie Redmond’s eyes shimmered with tears, yet a faint smile tugged at her lips.

After two years of marriage, her plan to conceive with the sperm donor had finally succeeded.

It was also time to divorce Chase Hollis.

The door lock clicked. She turned around and handed a set of papers to the man walking in.

"Chase, this is…"

He took the document, but before he could unfold it, his phone rang.

A panicked female voice burst through the speaker. "Brother, I think someone’s following me! There have been so many murders around here lately. I’m so scared!"

Without even grabbing his coat, Chase bolted for the door. "Isla, stay where there are people. I’m coming right now!"

Isla was his adopted sister. At the slightest hint of danger, Chase would panic as if the sky were falling.

Because the one he truly loved had never been Rosalie; it had always been her.

He had married Rosalie only to hide his forbidden love.

In the past, Rosalie never stepped between them, never questioned their closeness.

But today, for the first time, she called out softly, “Chase, wait…”

Chase turned, visibly impatient. “What is it?”

She handed him the divorce papers. “Can you sign this before you go?”

Without sparing it a glance, Chase picked up the pen and scribbled his name. “Next time you want to buy land or whatever, just decide on your own. I don’t have time for this.”

His phone rang again. Without another word, Chase stormed out.

Rosalie stood still, her fingers gently brushing over his signature. Her hand trembled slightly, but her eyes sparkled with joy.

She walked into the study, where every wall was filled with portraits of Chase.

Stopping in front of one, she reached out, embracing the painted version of him, pressing her lips to the canvas.

A maid passing by sighed quietly.

“Madam truly loves the young master. Every day, she’s either painting him or staring at his portraits…”

“What good is that love? They’ve been married for two years, and he barely stays in her room.”

“Exactly. Everyone knows he only has eyes for Miss Isla. He’s cold as ice to Madam…”

Rosalie didn’t care what the servants did.

The more she caressed her belly, the more her smile deepened, blooming like a secret flower in the dark.

Two years it had taken two long, calculated years, but at last, her plan had succeeded.

The man she loved had never been Chase. It was Easton Hollis, his twin. Every brushstroke in her portraits, every detail she poured her heart into, had always been Easton.

They were high school classmates once. After graduation, their love grew wild and free like ivy in the summer sun. They had promised each other forever.

But forever had been cut short.

On an expedition, Easton had died saving her. She had watched the light leave his eyes, her world-shattering with it. After that, she swore she would never love again.

Fortunately, before fate tore them apart, Easton had left her with a final gift: a child. A piece of him she could hold onto.

She had planned to raise that child alone for the rest of her life.

But James was born with a rare blood disease.

And the only hope of saving him was to bring another life into the world.

A sibling with matching cord blood.

So, she had no choice but to get close to Chase. She chased him, seduced him, and pulled every thread she could. She lost her pride. Did things she could never speak of again.

Eventually, she got what she wanted.

She married him. But Chase had never loved her. He only married her because he couldn’t have Isla. Anyone else would do.

But she didn’t care.

Her only goal was to get pregnant with Chase’s child.

So even when he looked at her with nothing but cold disdain, Rosalie did everything, every shameless, desperate thing, to find him, to seduce him, to make him hers just once.

Chase never questioned it. He thought she was just madly in love, clinging to a fantasy that had never existed.

Rosalie never offered him the truth.

Now, two years later, she had what she needed. The child in her womb could save James.

It was over.

She was ready to leave, ready to return to Ireland, where her son was waiting.

The next day, Chase returned home with Isla.

In a black tailored suit, tall and composed, Chase looked almost identical to Easton.

Isla wore a pink princess dress, her figure delicate and graceful. The two walked side by side, chatting and laughing, a perfect picture of elegance and charm.

Rosalie was slightly surprised. In the past, Chase had never brought Isla to their home.

Chase gave a direct order.

“Rosalie, Isla was badly frightened last night. She’ll be staying here for a few days; look after her.”

“Alright.” Rosalie turned to the maid. “Go prepare a guest room.”

Isla clung to Chase’s hand, her voice sweet and playful. “Brother, I’m not used to sleeping in a guest room. I want to stay in the master bedroom!”

Chase looked at Rosalie. After all, the master bedroom was their marital room.

Rosalie had intended to refuse. But then, her eyes drifted to the window. Snowflakes floated down gently from the sky.

Staring at the falling snow, she murmured softly, “The snow is beautiful…”

It was just like the snowfall from years ago, the same quiet scene when she and Easton had fallen in love.

She looked at Chase as if through him, seeing the man she had once loved. In the two years of marriage, aside from the goal of getting pregnant, she had spent every day searching for traces of Easton in him.

“Fine. But I have one request: you go into the snow…”

“To be a model for your painting, right?” Before Rosalie could finish, Chase cut her off.

In the past two years of marriage, she had painted Chase countless times, in different places, with different expressions, always asking him to appear in certain settings to match her vision.

Once, after watching her gently store away a snow portrait of him in the study and kiss it softly, Chase felt something stir in his chest. For the first time, his tone eased slightly. “Do you really love me that much?”

Rosalie’s eyes stayed on the painting.

“Yes. I love you very, very much…”

Your brother.

Chase’s heart skipped a beat as he remembered all the times she had stood by him.

His heart stirred in confusion, but the moment passed. As if recalling something, his tone turned cold again.

“Isla wants your snow pear cake tonight. In return, I’ll cooperate with whatever you want to paint.”

“Okay.” Rosalie, just like always, agreed without a pause.

For a second, Chase felt a strange ache in his chest as he looked at her.

Isla had always been spoiled and stubborn. After Rosalie married him, he asked her to do many things for Isla, like shopping with her, carrying her bags, cooking her food, and even driving her around.

As long as he agreed to pose for a painting, Rosalie would quietly accept it all.

His love for Isla had always stayed buried, never spoken. But as the woman who shared his bed, Rosalie must have known.

And yet, because she loved him, she endured it all. She watched him care for someone else and never complained.

She must have loved him deeply. So deeply it might have matched his feelings for Isla.

Warmth rose in his chest briefly, then faded just as fast.

At dinner, Isla sat smugly as Rosalie personally served her the snow pear cake.

“See?” she said proudly. “As long as I want something, even if it means turning you into a cook, Brother will say yes!”

Rosalie answered calmly, “Your brother has always cared about you the most.”

Chase glanced at Rosalie’s quiet face, and for some reason, a dull ache settled in his chest.

Isla smirked again. “Rosalie, I heard you can't eat spicy food. But since I’m here tonight, Brother made sure everything’s spicy.”

Chase’s brows knit slightly.

Rosalie only said, “It’s alright. I don’t have much of an appetite anyway.”

She stood up and walked away from the table.

Even after she had gone some distance, she could still hear Chase’s voice, gentle and thoughtful. “Isla, these are all your favourites. Have more.”

And Isla’s excited reply, “Brother! This necklace from that designer is so hard to find. How did you know I’ve always wanted it?”

Without stopping, Rosalie went straight into the study.

Isla stayed at the house for several days.

Each night, Chase stayed with her until one or two in the morning. Only after she fell asleep would he quietly step out of the master bedroom.

One night, as Rosalie passed by the door, she heard Isla’s soft voice from inside, “Brother, we used to sleep in the same bed too. Can you stay with me tonight? I’m scared.”

Chase gently pulled the blanket up around her and stepped back.

“Isla, that was when we were younger, back then, no one cared about what was proper. But now I’m married. If I stayed here overnight, people might talk. Get some rest. My phone’s always on, call me if you need anything.”

Isla murmured unwillingly, “Okay… But Brother, while I’m here, can you not sleep in the same room as Rosalie? I don’t like her scent.”

“Hmm…”

Rosalie didn’t listen any further. She turned and quietly went back to the guest room.

There, she noticed a photo of Chase and Easton.

Her gaze fell on the familiar face she had loved for so long, and in an instant, her eyes welled up with tears.

She gently traced Easton's eyes and brows in the photo, which were so much softer than Chase’s.

Suddenly, Chase’s voice came from behind. “Rosalie…”

He had seen the photo in her hands, and his face instantly paled. He took the photo away gently.

His voice trembled with emotion. “We met late in life, so you didn’t know I had a twin brother. But he died a few years ago in an accident. After that, everyone in the family hid anything that reminded them of him, afraid the memories would come back… I never thought there was still a photo of us here in the guest room…”

Feeling his control slip, he wiped tears from his eyes. “I remember, before he died, he kept saying he wanted to bring his girlfriend home; he wanted to marry her. He loved that girl for years. But in the end, he never got to meet his future sister-in-law…”

Rosalie trembled all over. She clenched her fists to hold back her emotions. “Didn’t Isla tell you not to come to my room?”

Chase looked at her, surprised. “You heard that?”

Rosalie nodded. “I was passing by and caught a little.”

Chase reached for her hand, trying to pull her into his arms. “She’s just being stubborn. I’ll leave early in the morning, and she won’t even know.”

Then he leaned in to kiss her.

Rosalie dodged him and pushed him away. “Since Isla is being stubborn and not feeling well, you should just go along with her.”

She was already pregnant; there was no need to share a room with Chase anymore.

Besides, seeing that photo of Easton tonight had stirred up painful memories; she just wanted to be alone.

But the next morning, as soon as she opened her eyes, she saw Isla standing by her bedside with a fierce look.

Before Rosalie could react, Isla shoved a cup of medicine into her mouth.

Isla shouted, “You vixen! It’s your fault! Brother has never disobeyed me before! I told him not to sleep in your room, so why was he here last night? Even his coat is still here!”

Rosalie tried to explain, but as the liquid went down, sharp pain exploded in her lower belly.

She pulled back the blanket and saw blood flowing between her legs.

Her eyes widened in horror. “No… no…”

Isla looked startled, but as Chase approached, she suddenly fell to the floor, grabbing his pant leg with tearful eyes.

“Brother! I asked Rosalie if you were with her last night, and she called me a seductress and accused me of incest. She even pushed me down. I was already scared because of the recent murders, and now my leg is swollen too...”

Sure enough, one ankle was clearly swollen.

Chase, distressed, lifted her up. “Don’t be afraid, Isla. I’ll take you to the hospital...”

Then his gaze turned cold as it landed on Rosalie, curled up in bed and clutching her abdomen in pain.

Rosalie cried out, “Chase, take... take me to the hospital...”

Cold sweat soaked her as the pain deepened, pressing down like a heavyweight.

She was terrified. She would rather suffer herself than lose the baby, James’s only hope.

With all her heart, she begged, “Chase, please save me. I don’t know what Isla made me drink...”

Before he could answer, Isla’s voice broke through in pain, “Brother, it hurts so much...”

Chase’s voice turned cold and sharp. “Rosalie, I told you long ago, you’re only my wife in name. You mean nothing to me. Now that you dared hurt Isla right under my nose, this pain you feel is your punishment.”

Without looking back, he carried Isla away.

Rosalie sank into deep despair as blood kept flowing from her lower body.

In her haze, she saw Easton smiling warmly at her.

“Rosalie, Rosalie, I love you so much. When we get married and have a baby... do you think the baby will look more like you or me? I’m really looking forward to our life together...”

Tears filled her eyes as she reached out, trying to hold onto that fleeting warmth, but pain overwhelmed her, and everything went black.

When she woke, she found herself in a hospital room; a servant had brought her there.

As the nurse gave her an IV, she scolded softly, “Ms. Rosalie, you’re still pregnant. How could you take poison?”

“Thankfully, you came in time for a stomach pump. You’re going to be okay, and the baby is safe, too. Where is your husband?”

Rosalie gently touched her belly, her eyes empty and full of despair. “The husband I knew is already in heaven.”

Outside the hospital room, Chase’s angry voice rang out, “When did I go to heaven?”