Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Baby is Gone

ISABELLA 

The taste of blood filled my mouth as I slowly woke up, feeling groggy and wrong. My body felt wrong, as I felt like I had been run through steel and hit by a speeding truck.

"Isabella?" A voice cut through the fog, registering briefly in my head. It was a male voice and it sounded familiar to me. "She's waking up."

I tried to open my eyes, but my eyelids felt heavy as the smell of antiseptic and industrial detergent filled my nostrils, and somewhere in the distance, I could hear the beeping sound that seemed consistent with a machine.

 My hand immediately moved to my belly—the rounded, full belly that had been my constant companion in my miserable life for nine months.

It was flat.

I immediately felt panic as I snapped my eyes open, getting myself blinded momentarily by the harsh florescent lights.

The room came into focus as I looked around and saw that I was in a private hospital ward attached to machines.

"My baby," I whispered, my voice cracked and hoarse from having a very dry throat. "Where's my baby?"

Maxwell Henderson, my husband of six years, was seated in the leather chair beside my bed. His eyes held no affection or warmth as he looked at me.

He seemed well dressed and his clothes were ironed which registered to me that he just came now. But he wasn't alone.

Cassandra Mills—his business partner, his "so called friend but actually mistress and true love of his life," his everything I could never be—was seated on his lap, leaning backwards on his shoulder with a smirk as she looked at me.

There was something different about her, but I couldn't place my mind on the change at the moment.

"The baby didn't make it, Isabella," Max said, his voice sounded harsh and clinical like he was sounding like a stranger, rather than the father of our child. "The accident was... severe."

The words hit me like physical blows as I felt flashes of what had happened. The accident, the truck headed at me, with no intention of stopping, my panic as my water broke before the collision

"No," I breathed, trying to sit up. Pain made itself known through my entire body, and I gasped. "No, that's not—I felt him moving. He was fine. He was—"

"Isabella." Max's voice was hard as it cut through my panicked protests like a sharp blade. 

"The child is gone."

The finality in his tone sent me into hysterics. I tried to throw off the blankets, to get up, to find someone who would tell me the truth.

But my body betrayed me, as it seemed to be not getting the commands from my brain. . The pain in my ribs was excruciating as well, every moment I made, making me feel my stitches getting pulled open.

"Where is he?" I screamed, my voice echoing off the walls. "I want to see him! I want to hold him!"

Max stood abruptly, his jaw clenched with irritation rather than grief. 

"Enough. The baby wasn't even mine, Isabella. Perhaps you should see this as an atonement for your sins."

The accusation hit me like a slap. "How can you say that? I've never—"

"Haven't you?" His gray eyes hardened with anger and malice.

 "A child conceived when I was away on business for three months? Did you think I wouldn't notice the timing?"

I stared at him in horror. The baby had been his. I had conceived during one of our rare moments of intimacy as he was getting more cold and distant from me. 

But I could see in his face that he'd convinced himself otherwise, probably with Cassandra's help.

"He was yours," I whispered, tears rolling down my face. "He was ours."

Cassandra straightened,clearing her throat, her hand possessively stroking Max's arm.

 "Don't upset yourself, darling," she cooed to him, completely ignoring my breakdown, like I was a stature and not important as she smiled at him and added.

"You have real children to think about now."

That's when I noticed it—the swell of her stomach was also gone..that was the difference. She had given birth and was back to her normal body hour glass figure with a tight body gown to complement it.

"Cassandra gave birth to twins while you were unconscious," Max said, settling back into his chair as if he was discussing the weather with me.

 "Two healthy boys. My sons."

The room felt like it had been spinning around me. While I'd been fighting for my life, and losing my son, Max had been celebrating the birth of his children with another woman.

"I want a divorce," I said suddenly, the words out from my mouth before I could stop it.

Max laughed, although there was no humor in it, only disdain and disgust as he looked at me like I was a clown performing for his birthday. 

"On what grounds? With what money? Your father's debts are still tied to our marriage contract, remember? And after your... Infidelity... I hardly think any court would take your side in this matter."

He was right, and we both knew it. My father had borrowed heavily from Max's company before his death, and I'd signed papers as part of our marriage agreement that made me responsible for those debts. I had no money of my own, no family left, nowhere to go.

"However," Max continued, sounding business-like , "I'm not entirely unreasonable. You can remain as my wife, in name only. You'll care for my sons—be their nanny, essentially. If you prove yourself capable of that responsibility..." He paused, and something that might have been kindness showed in his eyes as he shrugged his shoulders.

 "I might consider giving you what you've always wanted."

My heart stopped for a beat before picking up again as my breath caught in my throat. "What do you mean?"

"A child, Isabella. If you behave, if you prove you can be trusted, I'll give you a baby of your own. We'll try again."

It was a lifeline thrown to a drowning woman, and despite everything, I grabbed onto it desperately.

"I..." I swallowed hard, tasting blood and desperation as my eyes burned with unshed tears as I swallowed hard, the tears escaping, hot as it burned against my cheeks. "I'll do whatever you ask."

Cassandra's smile was triumphant. "How generous of you, Max. Giving her a second chance after everything."

I wanted to scream at her, to drag my broken nails on her perfect face, but I was too weak, too broken. She has won this round and I was going to accept it.

Instead I didn't say anything to contradict her and nodded my head sealing my fate.