
I was just a stand-in, playing the part of my wealthy best friend on an arranged date. But Rhys Donovan, the heir to a corporate empire, fell for me instead. From that day on, if any other man so much as glanced at me, he’d have their legs broken and their bodies thrown into the river. When I confessed I wasn’t who he thought I was, he carved three lines into the back of his hand, each one deep enough to show bone. “I don’t care who you are,” he’d whispered, his voice shaking. “Just don’t ever leave me. The thought of you marrying someone else, having a child with another man… it makes me want to kill them all.” He showered me with affection for three years. The night I was rushing home, bursting to tell him I was pregnant, I found him tangled in our marital bed with my best friend, both of them naked. A madness I couldn’t control seized me. I tried to throw them out. But Rhys, his eyes red with fury, slapped me across the face. “Ava, why do you have to be so unreasonable?” “I broke off my engagement with the Langford family for you! Isabelle is being tormented at home because of it. All she wants is a child to secure her position. Can’t you find it in your heart to understand?” My best friend knelt on the floor, clutching her stomach, her voice a desperate plea. “Ava, I’m already pregnant. The baby is innocent!” I stared at them, my heart a frozen stone in my chest. “We’re done.” Rhys’s sanity snapped. “Who gave you permission to say that?” In the middle of a hurricane, he locked me on the balcony, forcing me to listen to the storm rage outside and the sounds of their lovemaking inside, all night long. That was the night I lost our baby to a raging fever. Rhys Donovan, this time, I’m really letting you go. … I was on that balcony all night. Just as the cold was about to swallow me whole, Rhys finally opened the glass door, a sliver of mercy in a sea of cruelty. He draped a warm coat over my shivering body and tucked my frozen feet against his stomach to warm them. He sighed, a sound of weary frustration. “Ava, don’t blame me for being harsh. You’re just so stubborn. You fly off the handle over the smallest thing, threatening to leave me. This was the only way to make you listen.” He tilted my chin up. “See? Who else would love you, would cherish you, like this?” Cherish me? The word was a bitter joke. He knew the hurricane last night was no ordinary storm, yet he had locked me out in it deliberately. I had pounded on the glass until my fists were raw, screaming that I was pregnant, that the cold could make me miscarry. But Rhys had only lifted his head from Isabelle’s body for a moment, his gaze sweeping over me with a tired annoyance. “Ava, don’t tell such lies to get my attention. I love you, but I’m not a fool. You had your appendix out a few months ago. I haven’t touched you since because I was afraid of hurting you. Where would a baby come from?” Blood had trickled down my thighs, staining my dress crimson. I had screamed until my throat was raw, telling him I was miscarrying, begging him to take me to a doctor. Rhys had only gotten out of bed, opened the door just enough to frame his face, and pressed a tender kiss to my forehead. “Shh, darling,” he’d soothed. “You must love me so much that you’ve imagined you’re carrying my child. Just wait. As soon as Isabelle gives birth, I promise I’ll give you a baby of your own. The three of us will be a happy family.” Then, he’d turned, retrieved a sanitary pad from the nightstand, and pressed it into my hand. “We’ve been together for three years. I have every one of your periods logged in my calendar. I know this isn’t a miscarriage. It’s just your time of the month, you silly girl.” After that, no matter how much I screamed, he ignored me. My agonized cries only seemed to fuel their passion. The more I suffered, the harder Rhys moved, and the louder Isabelle moaned, as if to make sure I heard every single second. The memory made me squeeze my eyes shut. I pushed Rhys’s hands away and shakily stood up, walking out of the room. The pain in my abdomen was so intense my legs threatened to buckle. The hem of my dress was soaked in blood. I locked myself in the bathroom and stood under the shower for an hour, trying to wash away the humiliation of the night. It was laughable to think that just yesterday, before coming home, I was naively planning my future with Rhys, filled with such hope. The man I thought was devoted to me, who had eyes only for me, had been sleeping with my best friend for months. I plugged in my dead phone. Once it had enough power, I opened my contacts and found the number for my gynecologist. “Hello, Doctor,” I said, my voice flat. “I need to schedule an abortion. As soon as possible.” With an appointment set for the afternoon, I changed into clean clothes and went downstairs. Rhys and Isabelle were already at the dining table, eating. The man who was usually so meticulous, almost obsessive about a clean table, was letting Isabelle make a complete mess of the food. She pouted. “I’m pregnant, I have no appetite. None of this tastes good. I’m craving that mango passionfruit trifle Ava makes. She’s so good at it!” As I reached for a chair, Rhys’s hand stopped me. “Ava, go make a trifle for Isabelle.” I stared at him in disbelief. “I haven’t eaten anything.” “Be good, Ava. Isabelle is pregnant. She comes first right now.” “She’s already made a mess of the food on the table, so you can’t eat that anyway. I’ve already asked the housekeeper to make something new. You can make the trifle while you wait.” I had no memory of ever making a mango passionfruit trifle. But Isabelle, my best friend, knew perfectly well that I was severely allergic to mangoes. I knew arguing was pointless. I turned and went to the kitchen in silence. When I returned with the bowl, my hands were swollen and covered in an angry, red rash. Rhys’s eyes narrowed. He grabbed my hands. “What happened to you? Are you hurt? Why are they so swollen?” He started to pull me towards the first-aid kit. But at that moment, there was a sharp crash from the table. Isabelle was bent over, gagging, tears welling in her eyes. “Ava, what did you put in this? Why do I feel so sick after eating it?” Rhys froze. He immediately dropped my hands and rushed to her side. “Ava, why would you do that?” “I know you hate me and Isabelle, but the baby is innocent! How could you be so cruel as to harm a child?” His eyes were daggers. I opened my mouth to defend myself. But he cut me off with a cold glare, shouldering past me as he rushed Isabelle out of the house. I stood by the table for a long time, my blood sugar so low I nearly fainted. Finally, I pulled out a chair, preparing to eat the leftover scraps. But the housekeeper came out and, right in front of me, scraped all the food into the trash. “Mr. Donovan called,” she said, not meeting my eye. “He said Miss Langford is not doing well. As a punishment, you are no longer allowed to eat in this house.” “The kitchen will be locked from now on. You are not to go near it. If you do, you will be thrown out.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. When he had signed this house over to me, he had declared to everyone that I was the lady of the house. That everything, including him, was mine to command. Now, he threatened to throw me out as if I were nothing more than an ant. I went to my desk and pulled a document from a drawer. We never had a wedding, but Rhys had insisted we get legally married. He’d said that since I’d tricked him by pretending to be Isabelle, he couldn’t trust me not to leave. He had to tie me to him. And for three years of blissful devotion, the thought of leaving had never once crossed my mind. But now, with Isabelle in the picture, everything had changed. I opened the folder, and with a few swift strokes, signed my name on the divorce papers. Then I sealed it in an envelope and took it with me to the hospital. I met with the doctor I’d scheduled. After the examination, he came back with the results, a gentle look on his face. “The baby is still alive. It has a very strong heartbeat. Do you want to try and save it?” I stared at him, stunned into silence for a moment before I finally managed to whisper, “No.” He sighed, not giving up. “But Mr. Donovan has been so looking forward to having a child with you. He knows it’s difficult for you to conceive, and he never wanted to pressure you by talking about it. If he knew, he’d be overjoyed!” While I hesitated, the doctor stepped out of the room. I heard him on the phone with Rhys, telling him I was in the maternity ward. Less than a minute later, Rhys burst in, breathless. He looked me up and down, a wave of relief washing over his face when he saw I was unharmed. “Ava, you’re being a little difficult. You knew I was with Isabelle. Why would you have the doctor call me over here?” I was about to tell him I hadn’t, but Rhys grabbed my arm and pulled me down the hall to another room. Two people were standing guard outside. The moment they saw me, they approached. Isabelle’s father, his face contorted with rage, slapped me hard. “You ungrateful little witch!” he snarled, jabbing a finger in my face. “My daughter treated you like a sister, and you tried to poison her!” “You took her place on that date, stole her position as Mrs. Donovan, and she suffered in silence. Now that you’ve lost his favor, you try to blame her? No wonder Rhys presents her to the world as his wife and keeps you hidden away!” I looked at Rhys in shock. So that’s why he never took me to any events. That’s why whenever I called Isabelle to pass the time, she was always coincidentally busy. How many other secrets were they keeping from me? My cheek stung. I couldn’t swallow the insult. I raised my hand to strike back. “It was Isabelle who didn’t want the arranged marriage! She was threatening to jump off a roof! That’s the only reason I went in her place!” But Rhys caught my wrist, his brow furrowed. “Ava, Isabelle just collapsed. The doctors worked for hours to stabilize her. Just let her parents vent.” “They’re right. If you hadn’t pretended to be her on our date, I never would have wronged the Langford family.” I stared at him, my world tilting on its axis. Before I could react, Isabelle’s mother shoved me. My back slammed against a cold, hard bench, the impact knocking the wind out of me. She kicked at me with her sharp heels. “You’re a little tramp! Seducing Rhys, scheming against my daughter! You’ll pay for every tear she’s shed!” I curled into a ball, trying to shield myself, my eyes pleading with Rhys for help. He stood frozen, his fists clenched, his eyes filled with a mixture of pity and pain. But his feet were rooted to the spot. “Ava, just endure it for a little while. I’ll make it up to you after today.”
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