Quentin Yale gets together with me to get revenge on my mother. He grips my neck with one hand and keeps the other on my belly. Then, he snorts at Mom, who's pale.

"Do you see this? Your precious daughter is pregnant with my child."

I hear him laugh manically when Mom collapses.

I stab myself in the belly as he watches. Then, I jump into the ocean.

Later, he loses his mind. He tells everyone he comes across that I'm following him while carrying our child.

When I see him at the asylum one last time, he lies on the bed and begs me not to leave.

Quentin Yale only dated me to get back at Mom. He grabbed my throat with one hand, his other hand stroking my belly. He shot a nasty grin at Mom, who looked like she'd seen a ghost.

He sneered. "See this? I—the so-called 'love child'—got your precious daughter pregnant."

Panic shot through me when I saw the color drain from Mom's face. I tightened my grip on Quentin's hand as a wave of unease twisted in my stomach.

Mom's shoulders shook violently, and she grabbed onto the table for support. Her eyes shot daggers at Quentin as she asked, "What are you doing here?"

I glanced over my shoulder and was hit with a chill when I saw Quentin's smile—it used to be so gentle, but now it was creepy.

He lifted our joined hands. "Can't you tell? I'm your son-in-law."

Mom's lips quivered as she clutched her chest, her face growing pale. She had a serious heart problem.

I flung Quentin's hand away and rushed toward her, but he yanked me back. I slammed right into his chest.

His hand tightened around my throat, and I felt like I was choking as I stumbled to stay upright. I couldn't turn to see his face. All I could do was desperately try to pry his hand off.

Mom's condition worsened before my eyes. Her body gave out, and she crumpled to the floor. But even then, she tried to crawl toward me.

Quentin's other hand slid to my belly, which already had a small baby bump.

"Guess you remember me, Ms. Grant? I bet you're disappointed to see how well I turned out," he said. His voice was so calm that it sent a chill down my spine.

I couldn't see Mom's face. All I could hear were her ragged breaths and the words she managed to choke out. "Let go of Winnie…"

Quentin's laugh echoed, deep and menacing, as his grip on my neck tightened. My eyes felt like they were going to pop out of my head.

My vision started to fade, but his voice cut through, sharp as ever. "Did you see? Your beloved daughter's carrying my kid."

My body started shaking, and their words felt like they were coming from another world. Then, suddenly, Mom's breathing stopped.

Panic and horror hit me all at once, and I struggled against Quentin's grip with everything I had. He let out a cold, manic laugh before tossing me hard to the floor. Pain jolted through me, but I pushed it aside.

I could barely make out Mom lying there, and I scrambled over to her. She was still, her face pale, and for a terrifying moment, I couldn't feel her breathing. I took her cold hand.

Before darkness took over, I heard Quentin say, "Finally, the day's here."

…

When the sharp pain in my stomach jerked me awake, the first thing I saw was a reddish-brown ceiling. Memories of what happened before I passed out flooded back.

Today was Mom's birthday. She lived alone in another city and didn't see me much because of her resentment toward Dad. But I knew she loved me deeply.

My pregnancy wasn't planned. Quentin and I decided it was time to introduce him to Mom before we talked about marriage. I'd planned to do it on a cruise, hoping it would be a special birthday gift for her.

The image of Mom's pale, sickly face made me sit up straight. A wave of dizziness hit me. When my vision cleared, I spotted Quentin sitting not too far away.

The warmth he once had was gone, replaced by a cold, brooding darkness.

I pushed through the stabbing pain in my belly and managed to choke out a hoarse cry. "Where's my mom?"

I couldn't read his expression as his face was partially hidden in the shadows.

His voice was cold and distant. "My mother-in-law is at the ship's medical center, of course."

Panic gripped me like a vice and I turned toward the door. Quentin felt like a total stranger. Before I could reach the handle, a sudden force knocked me back onto the bed.

Quentin loomed over me, his face cold and distant. "Aren't you curious why?"

I glared at Quentin, the guy I'd been living with for three years. I could taste a slight metallic tang in my mouth.

He clamped down on my jaw and flashed a sinister smile. "You look just like your mom. I have no idea how I stood you for these three years."

The look of disgust in his eyes hit me like a punch. He shoved my jaw aside and immediately wiped his hand with a tissue.

"Your dad is my stepdad. Your mom couldn't even keep her husband in check but had the nerve to blame my mom for stealing him. She drove my mom to her death! Your mom—Veronica Grant—forced her to die! You'd better stay put, or I'll make you and your mom vanish from this ship without a trace."

Quentin's words slammed into me, leaving me paralyzed. I didn't even notice when he walked out. The small cabin went dead silent. It was so quiet I could hear my heart pounding in my ears.

I ran to the door, grabbed the handle, and twisted it with all my might. It was locked. I banged on the door and shouted for help.

A few moments later, a man's voice came from outside. "Can I help you?"

He sounded like a crew member.

"I'm locked in! Can you open the door, please?" I yelled.

My whole body was shaking as I waited for an answer. Soon, I heard the knob rattle. I pulled the door open and found myself staring into the attendant's surprised eyes.

Without a second thought, I blurted, "The medical center. Where's the medical center?"

He was about to speak, but his eyes drifted past me. He lowered his head a little and said, "Mr. Yale."

I froze.

Quentin's voice, smooth and even, sounded from behind me. "My wife's been struggling mentally. It's been getting worse lately, and she's been acting out. Don't take it too seriously. Make sure the other staff is aware."

The attendant shot me a sympathetic look before turning to leave.

Desperation flooded me, and I grabbed his arm. "No! That's not true! Please, help me get to the medical center! I need to see my mom!"

Quentin grabbed my hair and yanked it hard. A sharp pain shot through my scalp, scattering my thoughts. He roughly dragged me back into the cabin and slammed the door behind us, his eyes dark and threatening.

I mustered all my strength and got to my feet. I forced the tremor out of my voice as I demanded, "What are you trying to do? How's my mom? I need to see her!"

Quentin ignored my desperate pleas and sat down on the couch, watching me with a twisted grin.

"The Grants really hit rock bottom, huh?" he taunted. "How did they end up raising someone as dumb as you? What am I trying to do? I want you and your mom under my thumb for good.

"I've got a stake in this cruise. If I decide to, your mom's life could be gone in the blink of an eye. So you'd better play along. I might let you live a little easier for our kid's sake."

I was at a loss for words. For three years, I thought I had a happy life. I never realized that everything between us was just a web of lies.

Once he was done talking, he left the cabin and locked the door behind him, just as I expected. I frantically searched the cabin for my phone, only to realize it was gone, along with my IDs.

The sound of the waves crashing against the hull felt like death drawing nearer, filling me with a heavy, suffocating fear.

Quentin didn't return for two days, and each day, an attendant would bring me my meals.

One night, I realized the attendant had forgotten to lock the door. When I pulled it open, I almost cried from relief.

After making sure the hallway was empty, I slipped out. My nerves were so taut that I could barely stop my whole body from shaking as I crept down the long hallway.

I was nearing the end when I heard a familiar voice that made every hair on my body prickle. It was Quentin. Then I heard him say my name.

I hesitated, but after a beat, I decided to creep closer to the slightly open door.

I was too afraid to get too close. Then, a voice I recognized drifted over—it was Quentin's buddy, Felix Jefferson.

"The Grant women were a piece of cake to fool, huh?" he taunted. "I thought we'd get some pushback, but everything went down smoothly. But then again, you nailed the acting. I bet Winnie still thinks you're just some regular office worker who saved up forever for those three cruise tickets!"

Felix cracked up.

His words made me dig my nails into my palms. The pain felt like a sharp stab to my heart. Then I heard Quentin's voice.

"The Grants always acted like they're above everyone, didn't they? Look at them now, knocked so low that it's not even fun getting back at them. Veronica probably wouldn't last much longer anyway. The real gut punch for her is knowing her precious daughter's carrying my kid."

I instinctively rested my hand on my slightly rounded belly. It turned out that the baby I'd welcomed with so much joy was nothing but a pawn in their game.

"Winnie's quite pretty," Felix said. "When you're done with her, do you mind letting me have a turn?"

His disgusting words snapped me back to reality.

Quentin's voice grew cold. "She's my wife. Don't ever joke about that. I don't find it funny."

I almost felt a sense of relief, but I hated myself for it right away. How could I feel relieved about anything in a situation like this?

I quietly slipped out of the hallway. When I spotted an attendant, I quickly asked him where the medical center was. Once I got the directions, I rushed there as fast as I could.

The cruise's medical center was small, and when I barged in, there was only one doctor. I rushed over to him and mentioned Mom's name. He pointed me to a closed door.

I flung the door open and saw Mom lying in bed with an oxygen mask over her face. Tears immediately blurred my vision. I dropped to my knees beside her, feeling completely drained.

Her eyes were shut, and her fingertips resting on the bed were ice-cold. I grabbed her hand tightly, so overwhelmed with worry that I didn't even notice anyone else walking in.

Suddenly, I felt a foot press down on my calf, sending a sharp pain through my body. I cried out in pain. Then, I heard Quentin's voice come from above me.

"Your mom's life is in my hands now. We're at least three days from port, so you know what you need to do."

Pushing through the pain, I turned to him, knelt down, and gripped his pant leg. My voice cracked as I begged him.

"What do you want me to do? Quentin, I'm begging you—please help my mom! Her heart condition is really bad. She's already had two surgeries. Take your revenge on me if you have to, but please, let my mom go!"

I couldn't make out his expression. My knees throbbed with pain from kneeling on the hard wooden floor.

He grabbed a handful of my hair, jerked my head up, and slapped my cheek with his other hand in a mocking way.

"Revenge on you?" he sneered. "You're nothing. As long as you keep doing what I want, I'll keep dangling your mom's life over your head. Letting her die peacefully is too easy for her."

I couldn't remember how I made it back to our cabin. Quentin had brought me inside, locked the door, and left.

I sat on the bed, feeling numb. When I finally looked down, I saw a bright red stain on my pants. I stared at it, forcing a wry smile.

Just a week ago, a slight pain in my belly had sent me rushing to the hospital to check on my baby. But now, I desperately wished it would just fade away like the blood.

All the love I'd felt for it vanished instantly, replaced by something dark and bitter.

After cleaning the bloodstain, I sat by the small cabin window, staring out at the endless ocean, feeling lost and helpless.