EVELYN
“Congratulations, Miss Monroe. You’re pregnant.”
The doctor’s words echoed in my mind, each syllable sinking in like a slow, disbelieving wave.
I blinked at him, gripping the edge of the chair. “That’s… impossible.”
The doctor gave me a kind smile, but I could see the curiosity in his eyes. “It’s rare, but not impossible. The test results are clear. You’re going to be a mother.”
A shudder ran through me. The last time I had been pregnant, I had lost my baby. A cruel accident—at least, that’s what I had been told. I had eaten food prepared in Damian’s house, food that had tasted slightly off but nothing I thought twice about. Hours later, the pain had hit. Sharp. Unforgiving. Blood had soaked my sheets before I could even scream for help.
I clenched my fists.
It wasn’t an accident.
Not long after, I had overheard Victoria whispering to Isabella in the hallway. “She’s not fit to carry a Blackwood heir. Consider that problem taken care of.”
I had been too weak to react, too heartbroken to fight back. But this time… this time was different.
My baby. My second chance.
I inhaled sharply, pushing aside the pain. I wouldn’t let the past ruin this moment. This baby would survive.
“Thank you, doctor,” I said, rising to my feet. My voice was steady now, my shock fading into determination.
He nodded, handing me the medical report. “Take care of yourself, Miss Monroe.”
I stepped out of the clinic and slid into my car, my fingers tightening around my phone. Damian needed to know. He deserved to know.
I unlocked my phone and started typing a message:
Evelyn: Damian, I have something important to tell you—
A new notification popped up before I could finish. A message from an unknown number.
My brows furrowed.
I tapped on it.
And the world stopped.
A video.
Damian. Isabella. Naked. Twisted together in a tangle of limbs. Her lips on his. His hands on her.
I couldn’t breathe.
I watched, unable to look away, as my fiancé—the man I loved—pulled Isabella against him, whispering things to her that he should have only whispered to me.
My stomach churned.
A sharp, cruel laugh escaped me. “Of course,” I murmured bitterly, staring at the screen. Of course.
Isabella.
The sweet, innocent Isabella who had always played the perfect friend. The woman who always cooked for me, smiled at me, acted like a sister.
It had been her all along.
A violent tremor ran through my hands as I gripped the phone. I forced myself to swallow the lump in my throat. Don’t cry. Not for him. Not for her.
I had given Damian everything. My trust. My love. My future.
And he had thrown it all away.
A slow, eerie calm settled over me.
I lifted my phone again, staring at the screen. The video had a message attached:
“You deserve to know what he’s been doing behind your back.”
No name. No sender.
But it didn’t matter. The truth was in front of me.
I took a deep breath and pressed play one more time, forcing myself to watch. Every touch. Every kiss. Every betrayal.
And then, I deleted my message.
Damian didn’t deserve to know about my baby. Not anymore.
I lifted my head and then I heard a knock on the door.
It was Damian’s mother, Mrs Victoria.
“Come in” I said my voice barely above a whisper.
“Congratulations, dear.” Mrs Victoria said with a wide smile.
I blinked, forcing my expression into something neutral as i stared at the elegantly wrapped box in Mrs. Victoria Blackwood’s hands.
The woman’s smile was practiced, warm on the surface but cold beneath, like a perfectly placed mask. Her dark eyes flickered with something unreadable as she extended the gift.
I hesitated before reaching out and taking it. “Thank you,” I said, my voice measured.
Mrs. Victoria’s lips curved slightly. “It’s a little something to celebrate your engagement.” She glanced around, then lowered her voice as if sharing a secret. “And hopefully, for the wonderful news to come.”
My grip tightened on the box.
Wonderful news.
If only she knew what her son had done.
“That’s very thoughtful of you,” I said smoothly. I turned toward her wardrobe, ready to tuck the gift away, but Mrs. Victoria’s voice stopped me.
“Why don’t you try it on?”
I remained still. A strange prickle crawled up my spine.
I turned back, schooling her expression. “I’ll wear it later.”
Mrs. Victoria chuckled softly, stepping closer. “Oh, come now. It’s just us. I picked it out myself. I’d love to see how it looks on you.”
There was something almost expectant in her gaze.
I hesitated. “I—”
“Let me help,” Mrs. Victoria interrupted, already reaching for the box. Her fingers brushed against me as she took it, the contact brief but cool—too cool.
I frowned. My gaze flickered downward.
Gloves.
Mrs. Victoria was wearing gloves. Delicate, black silk ones.
Inside the house.
My stomach tightened. “Are you cold?” I asked casually.
Mrs. Victoria blinked, then smiled again. “A little. The weather has been dreadful, hasn’t it?”
Her tone was light, but I didn't miss the subtle shift in her posture. The briefest pause. The way her fingers curled slightly, as if suddenly aware of the attention.
Something was off.
I met her gaze, searching. But before I could push further, Mrs. Victoria handed the box back with an easy smile. “Here, there are two necklaces in there. Try out the second one later. I’m sure it’ll look beautiful on you.”
I forced myself to return the smile. “Of course. Thank you again.”
Mrs. Victoria studied me for a beat longer, then finally nodded. “Rest well, dear.”
And with that, she turned and walked out.
I exhaled, my shoulders stiff as I watched her leave.
Something wasn’t right.
I glanced down at the box in my hands.
My fingers trembled.
I set it on my vanity and walked to the window, watching as lots of guards kept wandering around the mansion.
Then, slowly, I turned back.
My gaze dropped to the box.
It sat there, innocent. Elegant.
And then a sharp headache began to press against my temples.
I rubbed my forehead and sighed, exhaustion weighing down on me. It’s just stress, I told myself. Too much in one day.
I turned away from the gift and made my way to the closet, reaching for the doorknob—
And then it hit.
A sudden wave of dizziness.
My fingers slipped.
My knees buckled.
My breath caught as my body turned sluggish, as if thick, invisible chains were wrapping around me, pulling me down.
A cold realization slammed into ne.
No.
No, no, no.
My heart pounded wildly, my limbs refusing to move as my vision blurred.
The gift.
Mrs. Victoria.
I had known. I knew something was wrong.
But I had let my guard down.
And now—
My fingers curled into the fabric of my dress as I forced myself to move.
One step.
Another.
I staggered toward the nightstand, reaching for my phone which was ringing, my fingers shaking violently.
But before i could grab it—
My vision went black.
And i collapsed.