Jaime smirked, pure contempt in his eyes. “Exactly. And that’s why this is happening. My child was meant to save Trish—it’s his destiny, his purpose.”
He turned to Ian. “Hurry up. Let’s get this over with.”
Ian nodded, grabbing a pen and signing a surgical consent form without a second thought.
“I married you for this moment. Now that I’ve signed the consent form as your husband, you have no legal ground to fight her on the future.”
Even though I had long known the truth, hearing Ian say it out loud shattered me completely.
A searing pain ripped through my body as Ian pressed the scalpel against my abdomen and sliced through my flesh. There was no anesthesia—no relief, no numbness—just raw, unbearable agony. I felt every layer of my skin and muscle being cut open, like a wild animal was tearing me apart from the inside.
My screams filled the cold, sterile operating room, echoing off the walls like a desperate plea for mercy. But there was none.
“You're going to pay for this,” I rasped, my voice barely more than a whisper as I used the last of my strength to curse them.
Ian’s excited voice cut through my haze of pain. “It’s out! The baby is out!”
For a split second, a sliver of hope surfaced in my chest, but then—
“Wait… Why isn’t it breathing?” Ian’s voice trembled.
