Heartbroken No More

Before our marking ceremony, my fiancé, Adrian Conner, insists on bringing his childhood sweetheart along on our trip—all because Flora Wooledge says she also wants to see the northern lights. He switches my first-class ticket to Flora's name. He says, "I'll fly first class with Flora. You can take connecting flights by land. The doctor said it's not good for a pregnant woman to stay at high altitude for too long." I don't cry or argue. Instead, I calmly push him toward Flora. He snorts. "You've finally learned to behave. You're not as clingy and troublesome as before." After he leaves, I quietly sign the abortion consent form at the hospital. Then, I book a ticket to the southern hemisphere. In my past life, I begged and clung to him, hoping to keep him with our pup. But on that trip, Flora was attacked by rogue wolves and torn apart in the snow. Adrian kept a calm facade. Yet on the night I was about to give birth, he dragged me back home and cut open my belly with his own hands. He stood there and listened as our pup's cries slowly faded away. He poured all his hatred onto me. He believed I caused Flora's death and that I ruined his chance to become the Conner family's heir. To him, I was nothing more than a sacrificial pawn. In this new life, when I step off the private jet, I see Adrian standing there with his eyes bloodshot. He stares at my belly and asks, "Where's the pup?" Before I can answer, his half-brother wraps an arm around my waist. "Adrian, show some respect to your sister-in-law."