Bearing Triplets After Forced Marriage

The abandoned warehouse on the outskirts reeked of rot and despair.

Inside, Amanda's belly was alarmingly swollen—grotesquely large.

She was going into labor.

Agonizing waves of pain tore through her, drenching her in sweat.

Suddenly—splash!

A basin of ice-cold water was dumped over her, soaking her from head to toe, making her shiver violently where she was tied to an iron pillar.

Before she could even catch her breath, a cruel voice cut through the air.

“Amanda, hand over the formula for the Nectar of Fragrance.”

Her bloodied face, carved with fresh wounds, lifted slowly. She stared in horror at the two people standing before her.

Barry. Carol.

One was the man she loved—the man she was engaged to.

The other, her cherished little sister.

And they had betrayed her. Together.

She was even carrying Barry's child.

Slap!

Before she could speak, Carol struck her hard across the face. The metallic tang of blood filled her mouth.

Carol sneered, her voice dripping with malice and triumph. “Amanda, that bastard in your belly isn’t even Barry’s. He never touched you. He’s mine—he’s always loved me!”

Amanda’s already pale face turned ashen with shock.

She remembered that night months ago. She’d been feeling ill, and Barry told her to wait for him in a hotel room.

She went, despite how awful she felt. But the moment she stepped in, she collapsed onto the bed—dizzy, disoriented.

The lights were never turned on.

And in the dark, a man she believed was Barry had taken her—over and over again.

But thinking back now, that man’s body had been strong and lithe, his movements powerful. He smelled fresh and clean.

Barry, however, had a bad back and always reeked of smoke.

Her mind reeled. A deafening roar filled her ears.

She hadn’t been with Barry at all.

She’d slept with a stranger.

“You think I’d let you go after you got yourself knocked up by some random man?” Barry’s cold, venomous voice snapped her back.

“I drugged you that night,” he confessed, eyes glinting with malice. “All I wanted was the formula. But you ran off and got yourself pregnant with another man’s bastard.”

Amanda stared at him, devastated. “It was you? You drugged me?”

Because she was pregnant out of wedlock, her adoptive mother had locked her up like an animal in a basement.

She’d waited for Barry to come. He never did.

Now she understood why.

The child wasn’t his.

And he—he had been sleeping with her own sister.

Together, the two of them had plotted to steal her formula.

A cold, bitter laugh tore from her throat. The pain in her body was excruciating, but nothing compared to the agony in her heart.

Her contractions came faster, harder.

She curled into herself, bound hands clenching tightly, sweat and tears sliding down her face.

“Amanda,” Barry said with a sneer, “Give us the formula, and I’ll spare you and your bastard. That child’s been growing inside you for months—can you really watch it die?”

Amanda’s vision darkened. Her surroundings blurred. Blood trickled from the corner of her lips, staining her already mangled face.

This was the man she had once loved.

He wanted her dead. And he didn’t care if her child died with her.

Every sweet word from the past—every shared dream—had been a lie.

“…I’ll give you the formula,” she rasped. “But you must spare my baby.”

She had to summon every last shred of strength just to say those words.

That child inside her… she already loved it.

She had looked forward to its birth, dreamed of holding it in her arms.

How could she bear to lose it now?

Amanda could barely keep her eyes open. Her strength was gone.

Carol glanced at her bulging belly and gave a cruel smirk. “Tell me the formula, and I’ll let your little monster live.”

For the sake of her child, Amanda caved. She whispered the formula.

Barry read it and smiled, his expression unreadable.

Then, in a cold, emotionless voice, he said, “Sorry, Amanda. You still have to die.”

Amanda’s eyes widened in horror.

Even now—even after giving him everything—he still wanted her dead?

“You’re a monster!” she screamed, voice hoarse and ragged.

She watched, helpless, as he lit a match and tossed it toward the corner of the warehouse.

Oil had been spilled everywhere. Flames surged up instantly, the fire racing toward her.

The heat was suffocating. The air, thick with smoke.

Carol laughed coldly. “Don’t worry, Amanda. On your way to hell, your freak baby can keep you company.”

Then, arm in arm, the two of them turned and walked away.

Amanda screamed after them.

“Barry! Carol! If I live—if I survive this—I will make you pay!”

Hatred blazed in her eyes, fiercer than the flames around her. Pain wracked her body, but it was nothing compared to the torment in her soul.

The fire licked at her skin, searing-hot and blinding.

But the pain only made her more lucid.

Terror, rage, and despair churned inside her, giving her one desperate will: to live.

She writhed against the ropes, slick with blood, her body a broken mess. Her stomach throbbed with agony.

She couldn’t die here.

She wouldn’t.

Blood dripped down her arms as she struggled. The rope cut into her flesh—until finally, it loosened.

She broke free.

She would survive.

She had to.

She would make those two monsters pay—in blood.

Amanda stumbled from the inferno, the collapsing warehouse crashing behind her.

Half-dead, she dragged herself toward the roadside, praying someone would hear her cry for help…