Chapter 2

A short while later, the door to the private suite swung open.

I didn't have to turn around to know who it was. The shift in the room's atmosphere was enough. A cloying sweetness, a triumphant air that always followed him.

Liam.

Or rather, the man who called himself Liam.

"Olivia, my love." His voice was smooth, practiced. "I came as soon as I heard."

I heard the rustle of Olivia' s dress as she rushed to him.

"Liam! You' re here! And you brought him."

I finally turned my head. There he was, looking exactly as he did in my memories. He was holding a small boy in his arms, about four years old. Lucas.

Liam' s son.

The boy looked around the room with wide, innocent eyes, completely unaware of the poison his father carried.

Olivia' s face, which had been a mask of cold indifference towards me, had transformed. It was now glowing with a love so intense it was sickening. She wasn't looking at Liam; her entire focus was on the boy.

She reached out and gently stroked Lucas' s cheek.

"My sweet boy," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "My Lucas."

Liam smiled, a predator' s smile. "He wanted to see his mother."

The doctors and nurses who had been waiting outside for Olivia' s signal now stood awkwardly in the doorway. They had come to tell her it was time, that any further delay was dangerous.

But Olivia didn't even look at them.

She took Lucas from Liam' s arms, holding him as if he were made of glass. She turned to the assembled medical staff, her expression hardening once more. Her voice rang out, clear and absolute, for everyone to hear.

"This is my son," she declared, holding Lucas up slightly. "Lucas is my first child, and he is the sole heir to the Ashford fortune. Remember his face."

The room fell silent. The doctors and nurses exchanged confused, fearful glances. They knew she was pregnant with twins. They knew I was the father.

My heart, the one I thought was empty, felt a dull, heavy throb. The public humiliation was just as I remembered. But this time, it felt distant, like watching a movie I had already seen.

A senior doctor finally stepped forward, clearing his throat. "Mrs. Miller, with all due respect, your own babies... we need to perform the C-section now. It' s becoming critical."

Olivia shot him a look of pure contempt. "I' m busy. Do it without me." Then she turned to two of her personal security guards who stood by the door. "When they are born, get rid of them. I don' t want to see them."

"Get rid of them?" one of the guards repeated, his face pale.

"Do I need to repeat myself?" Olivia' s voice was ice. "They are nothing. Blemishes. Take them away. I never want them to set foot in my house or my life."

My resolve shattered.

I had told myself I would let it happen. I had told myself I couldn' t change her. But hearing her call our children "blemishes," ordering them to be thrown away like trash... something inside me broke.

Paternal love, a force I didn' t know was still in me, surged through my veins.

As the doctors, now pale with fear, rushed to wheel Olivia' s bed out of the room towards the operating theater, I threw the covers off myself.

The guards were already moving to follow the doctors, ready to carry out Olivia' s horrific order.

"No!"

The word tore from my throat. I launched myself off the bed, my body weak but fueled by a sudden, desperate strength. I had to get to them. I had to protect my children.

I pushed past Liam, who stumbled back in surprise. I was running, chasing after the gurney that was disappearing down the hall.

I could hear the nurses shouting. I could hear Liam calling my name with false concern.

All I could see were my children, their lives hanging by a thread.

I was almost there. I could almost reach the gurney.

Then, a sharp, blinding pain exploded at the back of my head. One of the security guards had struck me from behind.

The world tilted violently. The bright lights of the hospital corridor smeared into a blur.

My last conscious thought was of two tiny, helpless babies, and my own complete and utter failure to save them.

Then, everything went black.