When Love Turns the Knife

At the far end of the hospital corridor, the doctor who had just coldly pronounced my infertility continued, his expression conflicted, "Madison still thinks she's pregnant. In truth, it's just an adverse reaction to the hormone-regulating medication I prescribed.

"That's what's causing her constant vomiting."

Winston Holt frowned slightly. "In that case, switch her to something with the mildest side effects. I don't want anything to happen to her health. Madeline may still need her in the future."

"Aren't you afraid she'll hate you if she learns the truth?" the doctor asked, his voice tinged with pity. "She's always wanted to give you a child. She has no idea she'll never be a mother in this lifetime."

"Madison can hate me if she wants. I can't stand watching Madeline suffer," Winston said impatiently. "As for what she thinks? She’s already Mrs. Holt. Isn't that enough?"

…

I stood frozen at the corner, my body trembling uncontrollably.

So… that was how he saw it. My status as Mrs. Holt was enough of a compensation.

Everything I had now was never given out of love. It was bought with my womb.

My strength drained away in an instant, and I collapsed heavily to the floor.

I hit the ground in utter disgrace, pain ripping through my body as if my organs had shifted. I couldn't even summon the strength to stand.

Winston caught sight of me and strode over, pulling me up. His deep, dark eyes fell on my face. "Why are you on the ground? When did you get here?"

I hid my fingers under my sleeves, clenching them until they ached. I knew exposing the truth now would do me no good. So, I forced myself to be obedient and buried myself in his arms. "I just got here. The heels were too high. I twisted my ankle."

The tension in his face finally eased. He lifted me in his arms and carried me outside.

"Don't ever wear heels this high again," he murmured lowly.

I stared at the face I had once loved so deeply, and a bone-chilling cold spread through my heart.

When had he ordered the doctor to remove my uterus?

Was it two years ago? Did he do it during my appendectomy?

Back then, I had only felt a slight discomfort. Yet, the doctor insisted it was acute appendicitis and said that I needed the surgery.

Winston had panicked, renting out an entire hospital floor and assembling a top-tier medical team to operate on me.

At the time, I believed he loved me beyond measure—so much that he couldn't bear for me to suffer even the smallest harm.

Now, I finally understood.

I was nothing more than a lamb he kept in captivity. He cared for me so meticulously only so that he could one day carve out my flesh and offer it to my sister like some twisted sacrificial offering.