LOGINEloise Laurent thought she had it all—a loving husband, a beautiful home, and the promise of a bright future. But her perfect life shattered in a single night when she discovered her husband, Damian, was about to take another wife. Humiliated, heartbroken, and cast out with nothing, Eloise’s world crumbled. Yet, just as she hit rock bottom, an even more shocking revelation emerged—the child growing inside her wasn't Damian’s. Due to a hospital mix-up, she was carrying the heir of Dante Romano, a ruthless billionaire known for his cold heart and iron will.
View MoreElena’s POV
The pregnancy test had been trembling in my hands when the phone rang. I didn’t even need to answer to know who it was.
“Elena?” Elijah’s voice burst through the line, vibrant and excited, the way only my little brother could sound. “Congratulations, sis, you’re pregnant. Just over a month!”
My lips parted, and suddenly the whole world tilted. Pregnant. I pressed a hand over my flat stomach as though I could already feel the life stirring inside me. My chest filled with a joy so fierce it burned.
On the very day of our third wedding anniversary.
A sign. It had to be.
“Are you sure?” My voice trembled.
“As sure as science can be,” Elijah laughed softly. “Don’t you dare stress. You’re carrying the heir to the Rothschilds, Elena. Be careful, alright?”
The heir. My child. Damien’s child.
My heart fluttered in disbelief. After three years of quietly loving him, of being patient with his indifference, of clutching onto every sliver of kindness he spared me, I finally carried a piece of him that would never leave me.
“Thank you, Elijah.” My voice cracked, thick with emotion. “This is the best day of my life.”
The call ended, and I sat still for a long moment, staring at the phone as if it might tell me what to do next. But I already knew.
Tonight, I would tell Damien.
I would give him the one thing no one, not even Isabella, could ever take away from me. Our child.
The dining room table was set with more care than ever before. White lilies in the crystal vase he’d bought me on our first anniversary. His favourite dishes arranged on porcelain plates that gleamed beneath the chandelier’s light. I had even put on the pale silk dress he once said suited me, not knowing the offhand remark had meant the world to me.
Hours passed.
Ten o’clock. Eleven. Midnight.
My smile wavered, my hope thinning with each glance at the clock. I told myself he must be busy. That a man running the country’s most powerful empire didn’t measure time the way I did. Yet by one in the morning, fear began to gnaw at my heart.
I was rising to call him again when the door suddenly swung open.
“Damien!” Relief flooded me. “You’re home. I was so worried, ”
My words cut off as he strode inside. His eyes, usually sharp and cool, were like shards of ice tonight. He reeked of scotch and fury.
Before I could touch him, his hand came down against my cheek.
The crack echoed through the silence.
I staggered, clutching my face, disbelief turning the air to stone. He had never laid a hand on me before.
“Damien…” My voice broke. “What, what are you doing?”
His answer was a sheet of paper hurled at my chest.
I caught it with trembling fingers.
Mr. Rothschild,
“Please accept my deepest apologies for the crime I committed…”
The words blurred before me as I read about a hired driver confessing, claiming my late mother and I had orchestrated the accident that killed Damien’s parents, all to secure this marriage. Money transfers, instructions to hit them, threats against Isabella. It read:
“Five years ago, in a desperate attempt to pay for my wife’s medical treatment, I accepted money from your wife, Elena, and her mother, Sophia Carter. Under their instructions, I struck your parents with my car. At the time, blinded by fear and desperation, I obeyed without understanding their true motive: to sever your relationship with Miss Isabella and secure Elena’s position as your wife.
Later, to further drive Miss Isabella away from you, they coerced me into attempting her abduction, threatening to withhold the promised money if I refused. I complied, not out of malice, but because I believed it was the only way to keep my wife alive.
Since then, remorse has consumed me. I enclose the $10,000 I received from Elena, along with the transfer messages as proof. I know these gestures cannot undo the suffering I have caused, but I pray they may serve as a step toward truth and justice.
Please find it in your heart, if not to forgive me, then at least to understand the desperate man I was, and the guilt that has never left me.
With deepest regret.”
My hands shook violently. “This is a lie! Damien, I swear on my mother’s grave, this isn’t true.”
His laughter was bitter. “Enough. Do you think I’m a fool? All these years, you played innocent while hiding this from me. You and that scheming mother of yours trapped me into this sham of a marriage.”
“Damien, please listen, ”
“No!” His voice thundered. “If it weren’t for my parents forcing me, I would have married Isabella. You knew I loved her. You stole that from me.”
The room tilted, nausea clawing at my throat. He was cutting me open with every word, but I forced my voice steady. “I didn’t steal anything. I loved you, Damien. I have loved you since we were children. Isabella only ever wanted your money. You know that.”
“And what about you?” His eyes flashed with contempt. “Wasn’t it money your family chased? My parents gave your mother a job out of charity, but it was never enough, was it? You wanted everything. Admit it.”
Tears spilled hot down my cheeks. “No. I only wanted you.”
“You?” Damien scoffed. “Elena, don’t delude yourself. I never loved you. Not once. The only reason I touched you was to blow off steam. That’s all you ever were to me… a tool.”
My breath caught. A tool. After everything he’d promised, after saying he wanted a child with me?
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
For a heartbeat, silence crashed between us. His jaw clenched, his hands tightening into fists.
“Pregnant.” His voice dripped with venom. “Is this part of the plan too? Another trick to keep me chained? Do you really think an unknown baby will change anything?”
The word unknown sliced through me.
“It’s your child, Damien!” My voice cracked, raw with anguish.
He stepped closer, towering, merciless. “No. It’s nothing but proof of your deceit. You disgust me, Elena. Sign the divorce papers now, or Elijah loses his job at my hospital. And if you resist, I’ll make sure the world knows what your mother did.”
My knees weakened. “You wouldn’t, ”
“Try me.” His lips curled. “Sign them. Or watch everything crumble around you.”
The man I loved, the man I had once dreamed would protect me, turned his back without another glance. His footsteps faded into the night, leaving only the echo of my sobs.
The lilies on the table drooped, the candles flickered out.
And the secret inside me pressed faintly against my womb, reminding me of the life I might now have to protect alone.
ELOISE.The name on the passport felt like a strange thing to carry around, it was ill-fitting and cold. Juliette Dubois, a French name that befitted the alias that Marcus made for me, the thought of Marcus brought grateful tears to my eyes, because I wouldn’t know what I would have done without him. He was a good man and I’ll forever appreciate what he did for me, even though he didn’t have to. The plane descended through a thick blanket of grey light and the first glimpse of France I got was the rain-streaked tarmac and the blurred, indifferent lights of Charles de Gaulle airport. Marcus’s final words echoed in the sterile silence of my mind. “Eloise is gone, dead. Remember that, for their sake.” He had said and I nodded. For the sake of my unborn children and the sake of my husband, I couldn’t bear to be the reason he would be harmed, so it was better to stay away this way. What made it hurt the most was that, I knew that Dante would never allow me to be away from him if he knew
ELOISE. “Have we met?” The floor fell away from beneath me, the world tilted on its axis. “Dante…it's me. “It's Eloise.” He shook his head slightly, a flicker of confusion crossing his features, he looked past me, his eyes searching the room, a desperate, longing look on his face. That look was supposed to be for me, and then he spoke the words that shattered my world into a million irreparable pieces. “Where's Valentina?” Isabella seized the moment like a vulture, a triumphant, cruel glint flashed in her eyes. She moved to his bedside, pushing me aside as if I were nothing more than a piece of furniture. “I'm here, my darling son,” she cooed, taking his hand. “You've been in an accident. You've been so worried about your fiancee, right? She would be here soon.” Just then, as if in cue, Valentina appeared in the doorway, her son was with her again, clutching her hands. She had been waiting in the wings, a perfectly cast actress ready for her scene. “Valentina?” Da
ELOISE. The world dissolved into a kaleidoscope of screaming sirens and flashing red lights painting the night. In the back of the ambulance, my hand clutching Dante's, his skin a terrifying, clammy cold. The paramedics voices were a low, urgent sound. I didn't really register what they were saying, a language of stats and vitals I couldn't comprehend. All I understood was the stillness of the man I loved, the slackness of his features under the harsh fluorescent glare. “Please,” I whispered to the universe, to any God that might be listening, my voice a raw thread of sound. “Please, don't take him away from me, not now.” The hospital was a chaotic blur of white coats and blur scrubs. They wheeled him away, a gurney rattling down a long corridor, and a nurse with kind but firm hands guided me to a waiting room. The air was thick with the scent of antiseptic and quiet despair. I sank into a gold, plastic chair, my body trembling with a violent, uncontrollable shiver that had nothin
ELOISE He didn't raise his voice, but the command was absolute. Defeated, Isabella threw the report back on the table and stormed out of the room, with a weeping Valentina training behind her like a shadow. The silence they left behind was vast and beautiful, I watched Dante, who stood with his back to me, his shoulders tense. He slowly ran a hand over his face, the picture of exhaustion. I stood and walked to him, wrapping my arms around his waist from behind and testing my cheek against his strong back. I felt the tension in him begin to ease, his shoulders slumping slightly. He turned in my arms and pulled me into a proper hug, burying his face in my hair. “It's over,” he murmured. “They're gone.” “They're gone.” I repeated, my voice muffled against his chest. I felt safe, ever since Damian had thrown me out, Dante had been my safe space, even before I knew it and acknowledged the fact that I liked him. I felt completely and utterly safe. Later that evening,the house wa
ELOISE. It started with a knock. Not loud. Not frantic. Just a firm, sharp rap against the front door. Like someone who knew exactly what they were doing. Dante had been in the kitchen, slicing apples with that same quiet precision he applied to everything lately. I sat on the couch, one hand on
ELOISE. The next few days were filled with tension, even though Dante tried as much as possible to make sure we didn't go downstairs or meet with his mother or Valentina, it didn't reduce the tension. The house felt like a pressure cooker, the lid rattling with unspoken hostility. Anytime I ca
ELOISE. The ride back to the mansion was a silent, vibrating blue. I stared out the window, but I didn't see the manicured lawns or the sprawling houses we passed. All I saw was Damian's annoying face, the desperate twist of his mouth, the unfamiliar panic in his eyes. My arm, where he'd grabbed
ELOISE. My feet carried me up the grand staircase, each step a small, trembling victory. The adrenaline from my confrontation with Isabella was a fire in my veins, burning away the last traces of the timid woman I used to be. My heart was a frantic drum against my ribs, and my hands shook, but I k






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