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Avery's POV

Blood pooled on the floor beneath me. I pressed my trembling hands over my abdomen.

“No…please no."

The ambulance could only be here in an hour. I didn't have an hour.

I dialed Victor's number.

Once.

Twice.

Seven times.

All declined.

“Victor, please. Our baby,” I sobbed. “Pick up!”

His helicopter could reach me in minutes. I kept trying, but he didn't answer. My vision blurred and my hands tightened around the phone.

I had to stay conscious.

“H-help me.”

My grip loosened. The phone fell from my hand, Victor's name still glowing on the screen. A whimper left my throat.

Then everything went dark.

I woke up in the hospital two days later. The doctors and nurses looked at me with pity.

“I am so sorry, Mrs. Kingswell. We tried everything we could, but you were brought in too late. We couldn't save your baby.”

“No! No… Please give me my baby!” I burst into tears, thrashing in the nurse's grip as they struggled to steady me.

Later, a nurse handed my phone.

“We tried to call your husband, but most calls were declined.” She hesitated before saying, “a lady answered once, but said not to disturb him as he was handling more important stuff.”

A lady?

Victor's assistant was male. So who…?

I glanced at the phone. Seventeen unanswered calls.

And one message: Stop calling. You're interrupting my meeting.

Thinking he might have been busy with work and couldn't take calls, I typed a message: Victor, I'm at the hospital. I had a miscarriage.

When the message failed to send, my breath hitched. He had blocked me.

The next day as I walked out of the hospital, I caught sight of the TV and my heart dropped.

Victor stood in a yacht, with a young woman leaning her head on his shoulder as they watched the sunset. His hand was wrapped around her waist like a possessive husband's would be. Even without seeing her face, I knew who she was.

Amber Williamson. His ex-fiancée.

The headline read: Star couple of the year! Romance Blooming between the Williamsons and Kingswells?

My shoulders slumped. My purse slipped from my hand and landed on the floor with a thud.

That night, I was bleeding, losing our child, calling him, but he was… with her.

A nurse squealed behind me. “Oh my goodness, they look so beautiful together. I wish them a happy relationship.”

Another murmured, “so news of his marriage was just a rumor. Miss Williamson is perfect for him.”

My eyes stung with tears. They were right. With Amber, Victor looked content, like he had everything he needed.

An interview clip popped up.

“Is there something going on between you and Miss Williamson?” the news host asked.

“Not really. She's just very special to me,” he said with a smile.

Very special. Then what was I?

The envelope was still there when I got home. The secret I had wanted to tell him lay inside. That I wasn't just anyone. That I was the only daughter of the Ardent family. That my three brothers were the richest men in the city, and his bosses.

I had kept it hidden from him because my family wanted to ensure he loved me for me.

Two days ago, on our anniversary, I wanted to reveal it to him. I was heading to his office when I slipped on the stairs.

Now, telling him was useless.

With tears in my eyes, I crumpled the envelope and threw it in the fireplace. I collapsed onto my bed, letting the tears flow freely until sleep took over.

Noise woke me up the next day. I dragged my aching body downstairs to check what was going on.

Standing at the bottom of the stairs was my mother-in-law, directing maids.

“Hurry up, place it here. She likes lilacs.”

Lilacs? Everyone knew I was allergic to lilacs.

“Replace this photo, too.”

I followed her pointed finger to the picture of my first date with Victor. Soon it was gone, replaced by a family picture I wasn't in. Instead, Amber was.

“Work faster. They will be here soon,” she ordered, her voice cold as ice.

I stepped into the kitchen where they were. My mother-in-law, Stella Kingswell, rolled her eyes once she saw me.

“Hello, Mother, did Victor send you here?”

She ignored me. I cleared my throat and asked again, “what is going on?”

“And what do you think is going on?” Under her breath, she whispered, “can't wait till my son gets rid of you lowlife woman.”

My knees weakened. Before I could respond, cars pulled up to the driveway.

“Madam, they're here.”

Voices filled the living room. I took a shaky step inside…and froze.