Without my child, the will to live drained out of me.

Just as I was about to let the darkness take me, Scarlett burst from the shadows of the parking garage.

She took one look at my blood-soaked form and the phone still clutched in my hand. Rage contorted her face as she shrieked, "Why didn't you call me? What if I hadn't used the family tracking app to find you?"

She gently helped me up and frantically dialed Sterling.

"I'm with Vivienne. Don't bother me." The words hung in the air, and she froze.

She tried the security intercom, but we were too far from the guardhouse. No signal.

With no other choice, she half-carried, half-dragged me toward the exit as the kidnappers gave chase.

They caught up to us in seconds. One of them slammed an iron bar across Scarlett’s back as the others swarmed her.

Despite the blinding pain, she kept fighting, shielding me with her own body until she could barely stand.

Miraculously, we stumbled right into a patrolling security guard.

The kidnappers scattered, but the damage was done.

The obstetrician confirmed what my heart already knew. My baby was gone, ripped from my womb.

But the news about Scarlett was a shock I wasn't prepared for. The blow to her back had permanently damaged her spine. She could never perform high-intensity stunt work again. Her career was over.

She had sacrificed her dream—her life's passion—to save me.

Scarlett and I lay in adjacent beds in our private hospital rooms.

A suffocating silence filled the room.

She must have overheard Caspian’s furious phone call.

Scarlett struggled to sit up, reaching over to take my hand.

Her normally vibrant face was ashen, drained of color. Caspian’s cruel accusations made her eyes well up again.

They dripped onto the back of my hand as she whispered, "If only we'd never married the Hawthorne brothers."

She was worried about me, but all I could think about was her.

She had been one of Hollywood’s most promising stuntwomen, on track to become a top-tier action director.

Now, her spine injured, she was being forced into retirement, her future a terrifying blank.

I was about to say something to comfort her when her husband called.

"Caspian says Jules is faking a miscarriage? Did you put her up to this? Can't the two of you go one day without causing drama?" Sterling's voice crackled through the phone.

"And I told you yesterday, I was with Vivienne. It was an emergency. I told you not to bother me. Are you deaf?"

"I don't know why we ever married you two. Always scheming, threatening divorce, stirring up trouble. Who do you think you're scaring? If you want to leave, then get out! No one's begging you to stay!"

The call ended.

Scarlett stared at her phone, then managed a weak shrug, trying to act like it didn't matter.

But her eyes welled up with tears again.

I squeezed her cold hand. "Hey. Don't be sad. We're alive. That's all that matters. Maybe we were never meant to be with them. Maybe this is a sign it's time for us to go our separate ways."

"Let's just rest. Once we're stronger, we'll move out. Okay?"

Scarlett choked out a small "Okay."

Tears finally spilled over, tracing paths down her pale cheeks.

She leaned against my shoulder, and we clung to each other, sobbing, the fear, anger, and heartbreak we’d been holding back finally pouring out.

We had married men we thought would be our protectors. Instead, they had become the source of our deepest pain.

I remember when I first married Caspian. Every socialite in New York envied us.

"Two sisters marrying two brothers, it's a storybook romance," they’d say.

"The perfect union to solidify the Hawthorne family's position."

I remembered Caspian’s vows, the sparkle in his eyes as he placed the ring on my finger. I thought it was love. Sterling had looked at Scarlett with that same devotion. We believed these powerful men would cherish and protect us forever.

But that perfect bubble burst three months ago, when their stepsister, Vivienne, returned to the Hawthorne estate, pregnant with a child from an unknown father.

Caspian started avoiding my calls, staying out late every night, claiming he was swamped with work.

Sterling was worse, drowning himself in alcohol and attending an endless string of parties without Scarlett.

It was only then that my sister and I saw the truth: our marriages were nothing more than a tool for the brothers to maintain their family's pristine public image.

All those vows, all those promises of forever… they were nothing but cold, selfish calculations.

They claimed Vivienne was "just a sister," but she was the one they truly adored.

It was pathetic how long we had let ourselves be fooled.

We watched in silence as they welcomed a newly pregnant Vivienne back into the Hawthorne manor, showering her with an attentiveness they had never shown us.

Two powerful CEOs, suddenly neglecting their duties, ignoring their own pregnant wives and unborn heirs, all to orbit Vivienne like satellites.

For three months, Scarlett and I had husbands in name only.

There were no surprise flowers, no romantic gestures. They were ghosts in our own homes, their love nowhere to be found.

We had ignored the obvious: their affection had been redirected.

Or maybe it was never there to begin with.

Fate must have been laughing at our naivety.

"The doctor said my spine can't handle high-impact movements anymore," Scarlett whispered against my shoulder. "My career is over."

I stroked her hair gently. "And I can never have another child."

"It feels like we gave up everything for nothing."

Lying in my hospital bed, I scrolled numbly through my phone.

Suddenly, a new Instagram Story from Vivienne popped up.

The video showed her lounging in a luxurious private hospital room while Caspian and Sterling doted on her. The two CEOs hovered protectively, bringing her gourmet meals and supplements.

She caressed her seven-month baby bump, gazing adoringly at them. "Thank you, my dear brothers. You always rush to my side whenever I'm in trouble."

Other people in the room cooed with envy.

"God, where can I get brothers like that?"

"Vivienne is so lucky to be spoiled by the Hawthorne brothers."

A few reporters, however, looked skeptical.

"But where are their wives? I heard Mrs. Juliet Hawthorne was kidnapped. Why didn't Mr. Hawthorne go to her?"

Their questions were quickly drowned out by a chorus of praise for the brothers.

A moment later, Scarlett’s phone pinged. Vivienne had sent the video directly to her.

Her voice was flat, hollow.

"Jules, I don't know why, but seeing this… I just feel numb."

"Since they're so desperate to play knight in shining armor, let them."

I took a deep breath.

"You're right. This has nothing to do with us anymore. I'm calling my lawyer to force the divorce. I can't take this for one more second, Scarlett."

My lawyer was remarkably efficient, filing the motion with the court the next day.

I asked him to have the divorce papers served to Caspian and Sterling immediately.

But two full days passed without a word from either of them.

The waiting was an agony, like being sliced open with a dull knife. I was the first to lose patience.

I called Caspian’s private number. "Did you get the court summons? Give me an answer."

What I got was another tirade of insults.

"Are you done with your games? The more you act like this, the less I want to come home. Stop testing my patience!"

I could only respond with stunned silence.

How had I never seen this monstrously narcissistic side of him before?

I was about to argue when Vivienne's sickeningly sweet voice floated through the line.

"Caspian, darling, what are you doing? Dinner's ready. Sterling and I have been waiting for ages."

Caspian moved to the balcony, clearly thinking I couldn't hear. I couldn't resist a taunt.

"No wonder you're too busy for a divorce. You're entertaining your dear 'sister.'"

Caspian flinched as if he’d been struck.

"Juliet, what is wrong with you? Vivienne is showing signs of a threatened miscarriage and needs someone to look after her. I'm just helping. Besides, unlike you, she can't cook."

At the mention of a child, my composure finally shattered.