1 In my wildest years, I played a West Point cadet, used him, and then tossed him aside. Years later, he became the youngest Major General in Northern Command. When my family was implicated in a major scandal, he was the one who proposed a marriage alliance. Everyone said I was the luckiest woman alive, that marrying him was the blessing of a lifetime. But they didn’t know that every night, Adrian McCloud brought a different woman back to our home on the base. I was quiet, accommodating. I even made sure he had condoms ready. But he just smashed a vase, and soon after, his old flame was pregnant with his child. I remained indifferent. But that night, he exploded, pinning me against the door. “Serena, is your heart made of ice?” he snarled. Later, his old flame, Elara, and I went into labor on the same day. I knelt on the floor, clutching my stomach, telling him I loved him, begging him to get me a doctor. He held me, ecstatic. “You finally admit you love me!” “Liar.” He shoved me to the ground. Then he scooped Elara into his arms and boarded the ambulance without a backward glance. “The labor pains are what you deserve,” he’d spat. “This is your penance for what you did to me.” … I only caught a glimpse of his departing figure before he was gone. It felt like a dozen dull knives were twisting inside me, a pain so profound it stole all my strength, leaving me collapsed on the carpet. Amniotic fluid and blood pooled around me, gleaming darkly in the light. With every ounce of strength I had left, I rasped at our housekeeper, Martha, whose face was pale with shock. “Call an ambulance… please…” Martha wrung her hands. “Ma’am, the General gave specific orders… we have to wait for him to return…” “Wait for him?” I clutched my clothes, my voice trembling. “If anything happens to me or this baby, Adrian McCloud will never forgive you! Go now!” My shout made her jump. She was about to turn when Adrian’s adjutant, Lynch, blocked her path at the door. “Mr. Lynch, she’s bleeding! We have to get her to a hospital!” Martha stammered. Lynch’s gaze swept over the spreading stain on the floor, then settled on my bloodless face. His voice was cold. “The General’s orders were clear. You are to wait here for his return.” “Ma’am is merely throwing a tantrum. You two,” he gestured to the maids, “help her back to her room to rest.” “If you delay any longer and someone dies, can you bear that responsibility?!” I pushed myself up, pointing a finger that was as cold as ice. Lynch offered a hollow smile, but his eyes were glacial. “The General is at the hospital with Ms. Elara, who is also in labor. He said for you to wait here.” “You know the General’s temperament. No one disobeys his orders.” “I can’t wait! The baby can’t wait!” As the words left my mouth, a violent contraction seized me, twisting my insides until I thought I would break. I curled into a ball, cold sweat soaking through my clothes. “What are you standing around for? Get her to bed,” Lynch commanded sharply. Two maids rushed forward and, ignoring my agony, hauled me up by my arms, dragging me toward the bedroom. A fresh wave of warm blood trickled down my legs, leaving a trail of dark red droplets on the floor. “Blood! I’m bleeding!” I grabbed one of the maid’s wrists, my grip desperate. “Take me to the hospital! I’m going to lose the baby!” “Ma’am, we can’t,” the maid said, prying my fingers off, her face a mask of panic and guilt. “Maybe… maybe we should call the family doctor to come have a look?” “No! I need the military hospital!” “Ma’am, please don’t get agitated! I’ll go beg Mr. Lynch!” The maid scurried out of the room. The pain was drilling into me. The plush carpet was soaked through with blood and water. Minutes ticked by. No one came. I dragged my body to the edge of the bed just as another maid, Grace, came in. I grabbed the hem of her uniform, tears and sweat mingling on my face. “Grace… please, I can’t hold on much longer…” Grace’s eyes were red. “Ma’am, just hold on. I’ll go right now.” But as she turned, Lynch blocked her path. He sauntered over to me, his gaze flickering with a brief moment of hesitation at the blood on the carpet before it was replaced by cold indifference. “Have the family doctor take a look first. No need to make a fuss.” Not long after, the doctor arrived, medical bag in hand, flanked by two other servants. Before I could speak, they lunged forward, pinning my struggling limbs with surprising strength. “Let go of me! I need to go to the hospital!” I thrashed, tears and sweat pouring down my face. “The baby can’t wait!” The doctor examined me with a blank expression, then produced a few small white pills and instructed Martha to give them to me. “What is that?” I shook my head violently. “I won’t take it! Are you trying to kill my child?” “It’s a tocolytic. It will slow down the labor. The pain will lessen.” “No! The baby will be deprived of oxygen!” The doctor remained silent. “Dr. Evans,” I pleaded, “I remember your wife is due soon. If it were her lying here today, could you be so cruel as to force this medicine on her? Aren’t you afraid of retribution?” I turned my desperate gaze to Lynch. “Lynch, if anything happens to me or this child, you’ll be an accessory. Adrian will never spare you!” The doctor and Lynch exchanged a look. The doctor had just started to relent, to say he would take me to the hospital, when Lynch’s phone rang. He stepped out to take the call. When he returned, the fleeting hesitation on his face was gone, replaced by a cold, steely resolve. “Ma’am, I am truly sorry.” Lynch’s voice was flat, but it held an unyielding authority. “The General insists that you wait. It’s not that I won’t help you, but I cannot defy a direct military order.” He nodded at Martha. Understanding dawned on her face. She stepped forward, clamping a hand over my jaw while the other two servants pinned my shoulders. They pried my mouth open and forced the pills down my throat. I gagged, trying to spit them out, but they slid down my throat. Silent tears streamed down my face. I stared at the chandelier on the ceiling and let out a wild, grief-stricken laugh, the tears flowing faster. “Fine! All of you, remember this day! If anything happens to my child, I will haunt you from my grave!” “Her emotions are too unstable. Give her a sedative so she doesn’t harm the baby. Martha, watch her.” Lynch frowned, gave his orders, and left. I stopped struggling, limp as the long needle slid into my arm. So, this was it. In Adrian’s heart, his old flame was worth more than his own flesh and blood. To ensure the safety of her child, he would let his own child dangle at the gates of hell. The depth of my despair was matched only by the depth of my regret for ever agreeing to this marriage. I thought if I was good enough, accommodating enough, one day he would see my worth. There were even times I thought he felt something for me. Now I knew. You can’t make someone love you. Not even by carrying their child. I felt a faint flutter in my belly. The sheets were soaked through with my blood. I closed my eyes, fresh tears wetting my cheeks. Adrian McCloud, if my child dies, I will never, ever forgive you. The drugs began to take effect, and the contractions eased. But I was still bleeding, lying helpless and weak. Through a hazy fog, I heard Martha say, “Mr. McCloud.” My heart leaped. A flicker of hope ignited within me. He was back? Had he finally relented? Was he here to take me to the hospital? Maybe he did care, about me, about this child. I summoned all my strength and screamed at the phone in Martha’s hand. “Adrian! Get me to a hospital! The baby is not going to make it!” Startled, Martha fumbled with the phone and accidentally hit the speaker button. But the voice that came through was not Adrian’s deep baritone. It was Elara’s—syrupy sweet, dripping with a triumph she couldn’t conceal. “Oh, Serena, you must hold on. Adrian is with me right now. He can’t get away.” She paused, then instructed, “Martha, you must take good care of my dear sister Serena. Make sure she does exactly as Adrian says.” “Elara, put Adrian on the phone…” I was shaking with rage, screaming into the phone. Before I could finish, a hand clamped over my mouth, muffling my cries. Martha’s voice was sickeningly obsequious. “Ms. Elara, don’t you worry. We’ve already given her the medicine to delay labor. We will follow the General’s orders to the letter.” “Good,” Elara said, her voice smug. “If she’s still in pain, I know a way to help her hold on until Adrian gets back.” “What is it? Please, Ms. Elara, tell me!” Martha asked eagerly. I held my breath, waiting to see what new torture she had devised. Elara’s voice turned sinister. “Hang her upside down. The fetus will retract within five minutes. Then tie a rope tightly below her abdomen. That will buy some time. If that doesn’t work, well…” She drew out the words. “…you could always, for example, sew her up. The point is, wait for Adrian at all costs.” I shook my head frantically, muffled whimpers my only protest. Martha stood frozen, her face ashen. It took a long moment for her to speak. “Ms. Elara, I don’t think… that’s not right… someone could die…” “Nonsense,” she scoffed. “Back home, we do it all the time to make sure a baby is born at an auspicious hour. Children are tougher than you think.” She paused for two seconds. “Adrian is right here with me. This is all his idea. He asked me to call and give you these instructions. He said Serena’s temper needs to be tamed, and that he wants to protect my baby at any cost. If you go soft on her and something happens to me, Adrian will not be merciful.” Ignoring the bleeding and the searing pain, I threw off the servants holding me down. “No! Adrian wouldn’t do this to me and our child! You’re lying! You venomous bitch! Martha, don’t listen to her!” The next second, the servants slammed me back onto the bed. Tears streamed down my face as I pleaded with Martha. “Martha, you’re a mother. How can you do this to my child?” She was trembling, sweat beading on her forehead, the phone shaking in her hand. Elara’s voice pressed on. “Adrian said he’s going to divorce her as soon as he gets back. You’d better think carefully about whose side you’re on.” Then, she hung up. The room was silent for a moment. Then Martha turned to the servants. “Let her go.” My heart soared. She couldn’t do it. I weakly held out a hand. “Martha, quickly, the hospital… before it’s too late.” But she turned her face away, refusing to meet my eyes. “Get some rope,” she ordered. “Martha! What are you doing? You can’t!” I stared at her in horror. She acted as if she couldn’t hear me. The two servants pinned me down again. The coarse rope bit into my wrists and ankles, instantly drawing blood. Every slight movement was agony. “Ma’am, this is for your own good. Just hold on a little longer,” Martha said, before calling out, “Bring the frame.” “For my good?” I stared at her, tears blurring my vision. “Then don’t believe Elara’s lies! Adrian would never be this cruel! He swore he would never hurt me!” No one listened. They brought in a metal frame, the kind used for medical restraints. They dragged me by my arms, forcing me onto it, leaving a long smear of blood on the floor. The baby, as if sensing the danger, began to kick and thrash wildly. The contractions returned with a vengeance, stealing my breath. And then, they hung me upside down. My head roared. The baby slammed against my insides. Black spots danced before my eyes. Tears ran up my forehead and into my hair. “Adrian, come back… are you really so heartless?” “Adrian, I can’t… the baby… he’s going to…” As my consciousness faded, I thought I saw him walking toward me, smiling. He leaned down and kissed my forehead, just like he used to, his voice as soft as water. “Serena, I’ll protect you and our child from now on. Don’t cry.” “Serena, I would give up anything for you. Even my life.” I reached out, but my hand closed on empty air. A sharp, searing pain from the rope around my abdomen jolted me back to reality. A moment later, they cut me down. I fell heavily onto the floor, the impact jarring my bones. The rope tied around my belly dug into my flesh, intensifying the contractions. The more I curled up, the tighter it became, threatening to crush my organs. Suddenly, a tearing, downward pressure. I trembling pointed at Martha. “Now… I’m really… having the baby…” A maid who had just entered screamed. “Martha! The baby… I can see the baby’s head! We have to get her to the hospital!” Martha’s face was white, but she just paced frantically. I stared at her, too weak to do anything but beg. “Please! The baby will die!” She suddenly raised her hand, her eyes turning to ice. “Get a needle and thread. We’re sewing her up.” “No!” Grace, a maid who had been with me for years, threw herself in front of me, arms outstretched. “You’ll kill them both! If you’re going to sew someone, sew me first!” “How dare you disobey?” Martha shrieked. “But there’s so much blood!” Grace sobbed. “Martha, how can you be so cruel?” “If we anger the General and Ms. Elara, none of us will have a job! Our families will suffer!” Martha screamed back. “Tie her up! Stop her from interfering!” Two servants grabbed Grace and dragged her toward the frame. They sealed her mouth with duct tape. Her eyes bulged as she struggled, knocking the heavy frame over. It crashed onto her back. She convulsed on the floor, then went still. I watched, my eyes burning with rage. “Let her go!” I shrieked. “You inhuman monsters! I’ll see you all in hell!” The next second, tape was slapped over my mouth. Martha approached with a needle and thread. She ripped my dress open. The long needle plunged into the flesh between my legs. White-hot pain exploded through my body, as if I were being carved apart. I shook my head, tears and sweat pouring down my face as the servants held me immobile. “It’s catgut suture, ma’am. It dissolves, it won’t leave a scar,” Martha said, her face expressionless, as she continued to stitch. “No anesthetic is for your own good. Childbirth is more painful than this. Just endure it. When the General returns, we’ll take you to the hospital.” I looked at these cold, merciless faces, and I closed my eyes. I gave up. Just then, the door was thrown open with a deafening crash. “What in God’s name are you doing? Stop it, right now!”
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