Phoebe's POV

The year I partied the hardest, I was reckless and selfish, sleeping around without a care. One night, I made the mistake of crawling into the bed of a crime boss, Cade Oliver. I thought it would be another fling. But I didn’t expect him to want more, to keep coming back for me.

When I found out I was pregnant, he had me locked away.

By accident, I overheard a conversation between him and the butler.

“Once she delivers her baby, she’s gonna be useless,” he said. “With her baby in our hands, we can dispose of her stubborn old family and take everything the Dunns own.”

Upon hearing that, rage burned up inside me. So while he slept, I stabbed one of his eyes.

Humiliated and furious, he smashed my legs again and again so I couldn’t run. Then he ordered doctors and caregivers to attend to my every need.

One night, I used a hidden table knife to cut open my five-month belly.

“Phoebe, do you want to die?” he snarled, his eyes rimmed red, and he lifted me up, carrying me toward the car to the hospital.

But I smiled, grabbed his hand, and thrust the knife toward his other eye.

“No,” I said. “We’ll die together.”

——

He pulled the knife hard, causing it to slide and stab his left shoulder. Blood then spattered everywhere, soaking his white shirt.

“Phoebe, are you fucking crazy?” he roared as his hand clamped around my throat, seemingly beside himself. The eye I’d already blinded flashed something brutal.

I stared back, gasping, and sneered, “I’ve always been crazy. Did you only notice today?”

Maybe he was afraid something would happen to the baby, because finally he loosened his grip and then slammed me onto the floor.

My legs were already shattered, but I still kicked and tried to stand. Yet, it was useless. Still, I wasn’t afraid to speak hard truths.

“Cade, I’m not going to let this child be born,” I said.

“Bring her back!” he ordered.

He cursed under his breath, pressed at his wounded shoulder, and coldly warned the bodyguards, “Nothing must happen to the baby. If anything goes wrong, you’ll be the ones getting shot.”

As they dragged me away, Cade gave me a cold smile.

“Phoebe.” His fingers were oddly gentle as he stroked my face. “Remember this. With me around, you won’t die. As for the baby, there’s only one future for it. And that is to be born safe."

They then put me in a gilded cage, a lavish villa dressed up in princessy splendor. All the luxury in the world surrounded me, but I felt like a corpse as I couldn’t move freely.

Several private doctors came to treat me, and they quickly stitched and bandaged the wound I’d opened with the table knife.

Just then, the butler’s voice came through the window.

“Mr. Oliver, Miss Dunn’s baby was only stressed. There’s nothing serious happened with the child.”

Only then did Cade relax, but he still stationed ten more guards to watch me closely. While he made sure I was well-fed and that I lacked nothing, he confiscated every sharp thing in the house. Not even a table knife remained.

“Miss Dunn,” the butler sighed, puzzled, “Mr. Oliver has already promised to marry you. If you quietly give birth, you’ll have wealth and comfort. Why would you choose otherwise?”

I didn’t answer. I just laughed coldly. “That wedding, whatever it was, was just for show. Saying he’d marry me was nothing but an act.”

The butler opened his mouth to argue, but I cut him off with a look sharp enough to wound.

Everyone in the Olivers' household treated me like a madwoman. They didn’t dare speak to me much, afraid of getting into trouble.

I lay there in bed for a week until one day, a curious face appeared at the window. It was a little girl in a princess dress peering in.

Phoebe's POV

“So you’re Phoebe?” the little girl snorted, narrowing her eyes. “You’re not even that pretty. If it weren’t for the Olivers' blood running through you, do you really think Cade would give you a second glance?”

“And that wedding?" she scoffed. "Don’t be delusional. In Cade’s eyes, you were just a cheap breeder.”

Her words landed like ice. But upon looking at her, she was clean and pampered, looking every bit the sheltered child I’d heard about. Margaret Jarvis, the pure, naive foster girl, Cade kept hidden away. Six years ago, he’d supposedly saved her life. Everyone in the city knew she existed.

My interest sharpened. Cade had ruined me. I wonder what his face would look like if I killed the one he’d kept like a pet.

A cold smile tugged at my lips. The prey really had walked right into my trap.

I waved her over. “Come here. I have something for you.”

That evening, after Cade tended his wound, he finally came to see me.

“Phoebe,” he said, “since you know the truth now, I won’t hide it any longer. If you behave and give birth to this child, I’ll have your legs fixed and let you go.”

He then tossed a check amounting to fifty million onto the table. “This is your payment.” His eyes scanned me like I was nothing more than an object. “Women like you, easy and loose, could sleep with models for the rest of your life.”

I laughed coldly from my wheelchair. “And if I refuse?”

“Cade,” I shot back, “why should I accept terms you set? Remember who’s carrying something right now. You should be begging me. If anyone draws up terms, it should be me.”

But he barely took me seriously. He simply scoffed and turned to leave.

That was when I let him have it. “Cade,” I said, calm as a knife, “you’re a mafia boss and you’ve had an eye stabbed out. How can you still be so naïve?”

Finally, he froze and spun to look at me. “What do you mean?”

I clapped slowly and pointed toward the construction crane not far from the villa. “You hide that girl so carefully because you’re scared someone will find her, right?”

“Now it’s my turn to set the choice.” I let the sentence hang. “Pick one: the child in my belly, or your foster sister.”

His face immediately lost color, then he whirled to the window.

Outside, a crane held a small figure suspended in a white dress, arms and legs bound, muffled whimpers slipping past her gag. “Cade, please, help me! She’s a madwoman!”

Cade’s jaw tensed, veins bulging. He stared at me like I’d gone insane and fumingly ordered, “Let her go!”

“And if I don’t?” I met his gaze, a hard edge of madness creeping in. “Cade, don’t make me say it twice. Which is it? Her, or the child in my belly?”

He kept staring, weighing it all, profit, bloodline, risk.

Six months ago, I’d known getting into a boss’s bed wasn’t as simple as a drunken night. When I’d stripped him that night, he’d welcomed me because he already knew who I was, because he needed our family resources and a child. It was a trap he had set for me.

I could carry any man’s child in my life, anyone’s but his. Not his.

I let him stew.

Soon, I lost track of time until my impatience slipped out and I spoke up, testing him.“Have you already decided?”

Phoebe's POV

He ground his teeth, voice rough. “Phoebe, you really don’t want to give birth to my child?”

“No.” I looked up slowly, languid. “You have fifteen seconds to decide. Either save Margaret, or let me go.”

“If you hesitate longer, the crane’s rope will rip off.” I started, then made a falling motion with my hand and smiled cruelly. “Then you’ll be collecting your little girl’s body.”

“I choose… Margaret!” Cade finally cried, slamming his eyes shut as if pulling himself out of some impossible moment.

I smiled in satisfaction. “Too bad. It’s already been eighteen seconds.”

“What are you gonna do?!” His pupils widened the instant the crane let go with a thunderous sound, and Margaret’s scream followed immediately.

“Sorry, you were a second too slow.” I looked at my fingernails, amused and indifferent.

Cade swayed as if he might fall. By the time he reacted, he was already rushing outside.

However, Margaret had already hit the ground, struck her head, and gone limp. Blood also stained her white dress.

He scooped her into his arms, frantic. “Doctor! Get my private doctor!”

“Phoebe!!” he spat, hatred blazing. “You bitch! I already made a choice. Why would you hurt Margaret?! Don’t drag someone else into this! If you hate me, come at me!”

Watching him with that mix of grief and fury was delicious. I couldn’t help but laugh heartily.

“Oh?” I went on. “Then why weren’t you thinking like this three years ago when Renzo died?”

At my words, Cade’s face drained of color. “How do you know about Renzo? What… what is your relationship with my brother?”

“If you hadn’t killed him, I probably would’ve been your sister-in-law.” I dropped the bomb. “Cade.” I raised my eyes, cold. “Funny thing, he died the night before he was going to propose to me.”

I’d known it for a while. Cade had killed his own younger brother.

Renzo Oliver had promised to marry me. I was a breath away from wearing his ring. But because of Cade, he and I were torn apart.

That was why I’d built this reckless playgirl act to get close to Cade.

His eyes reddened as he still held the unconscious Margaret. His jaw also clenched, and a cold laugh escaped him. “So you came on to me on purpose, to avenge him?”

“Phoebe, you’re naïve. A loser like Renzo could never inherit our family's fortune.” He sneered. “Anyway, we look the same, and now you’re carrying my child. Why not just marry me? Isn’t that perfect?”

I slapped him hard across the face, turning his face sideways.

With his bloody hand, he touched his cheek and said, “No woman has ever struck me before. You’re the first.”

Cade lifted his head, voice like breaking ice. “Since your hands aren’t clean, they should be made useless.” He gathered Margaret and started to leave.

As he passed the guards, his step faltered. “Those who betrayed our family, take them out too,” he ordered.

Yet the guards didn’t move. They still looked to me for orders.

Cade had been careless. He assumed those men were loyal to him, that he had control over everything here.

Later, the eldest servant, Elmer Hersey, approached me with a respectful bow and asked, “Miss, that punk Cade laid a hand on you hard. Want to show him some real power so he learns his place?”