Chapter 1
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He said, "You're in a delicate condition now. Let her take care of you."
When midnight cramps woke me, I checked the security feed only to see him tangled with the maid on our marital bed.
Between breathless moans, the maid asked, "Once she delivers, you'll throw her out, won't you?"
My husband replied coldly, "Why would I keep someone who's served her only purpose?"
I'd barely stepped through the door when two ultrasound reports hit me in the face.
One was mine showing twins; the other belonged to Lily Reynolds—the maid—showing a single fetus.
Frederick gripped my chin, his eyes cold with contempt and cruelty.
"Sophie, you'd better pray those two worthless brats in your belly can somehow measure up to the golden child in Lily's womb."
Behind him stood Lily, nervous yet unmistakably smug. In that moment, my heart turned to ice.
I asked nothing. I shed no tears.
With eerie calm, I picked up the crumpled reports from the floor, smoothed them flat, and turned my gaze to our wedding photo.
In the photo, my smile was forced while Frederick embraced me, his face radiating triumph.
He approached, leaning in for a kiss, his hand already sliding under my skirt with practiced ease.
I caught his wrist.
"Not today. I don't feel well."
Frederick didn't even acknowledge my words. He simply tore my dress open and forced me down onto the sofa.
"Not feeling well?" he sneered. "You look perfectly fine to me."
Morning sickness churned my stomach violently. As I struggled, my head cracked against the coffee table's edge, sending my world into darkness.
Frederick never cared about my comfort. By the time he finished, my mouth filled with the acidic taste of bile.
Afterward, he held me close, took out his phone, and snapped a picture of my disheveled state to send to Lily.
"Sophie," he said casually, "my father promised that if you deliver a son, your father might suffer a bit less in prison."
I lowered my eyes and whispered, "I understand."
Frederick pinched my cheek—a gentle touch that somehow burned like fire. "Lily's morning sickness was terrible today. Go make her some bird's nest soup."
I stared at him, unmoving. For a moment, Frederick seemed caught off guard, almost eager to see how I'd respond.
But I simply looked away and walked expressionlessly toward the kitchen.
The murderous glint in my eyes lasted only a second—perhaps he imagined it.
Frederick watched me walk away and smashed a crystal glass in frustration.
Sophie Sullivan—once a financial prodigy who had doubled her family's fortune single-handedly—now cooking soup for a country girl in his mansion.
Not only did she seem indifferent to his infidelity, but she'd apparently thrown her dignity and self-respect into the gutter.
Frederick, feeling he'd been far too lenient, kicked the kitchen door open and threw me over his shoulder, carrying me to the bedroom.
"Frederick, stop—I'm pregnant!" I gasped as he threw me onto the bed. The impact sent shooting pain through my abdomen, followed by dizziness and then raw fear.
"Pregnant?" he scoffed. "Lily's pregnant too, and she still knows how to please me."
Frederick dug his fingers into my waist.
I hissed in pain, finally showing defiance. "This is rape!" I spat through clenched teeth.
Frederick laughed darkly. "And what then? Planning to report me, Miss Sullivan?"
"Go ahead and report me. I'll make sure your father's remains end up in my cell. Want to pay your respects to daddy? You'll have to visit me in prison first!"
All fight drained from my body. I lay still as a corpse.
"Why don't you just die, Frederick?" I whispered.
Master of psychological torture, he gently pulled me into his arms.
"If I die, you'll be buried with me. Don't even think about running, Sophie. I'd hunt you to the ends of the earth and drag you back. Then I'd break your legs and keep you locked away forever. You're mine for life."
