She touched her stomach and broke down harder. “I have nothing left. No title, no child, no place. What’s the point of me even living? Maybe I should just end it.”
“Don’t talk like that,” he said sharply.
She pulled back and looked at him through her tears. “David… can I take her place? Can you make me your wife instead? Just leave Isabella. I’m tired of being called the other woman because of her.”
I heard the pause. Thick. Heavy.
Then the door opened again.
“Sir,” the bodyguard said nervously. She collapsed again. She’s not responding.”
David finally walked out. He looked down at me lying in the snow. My skin was white, my lips blue, my dress soaked and sticking to my body. I must have looked dead already.
“Call a doctor,” he ordered. “Now. Just make sure she doesn’t die.”
That was all.
Even like this, I was still only something to punish, not someone to protect. All those years I spent loving him, believing in him, had turned me weak and foolish.
…
I woke up because something cold hit my arm. A sharp sting. I gasped and tried to move, but my body felt heavy like I was waking up from a bad dream that would not end.
“Mr. Vanderbilt! She’s awake.”
That was when I realized I was not in a hospital.
I was on a yacht.
The floor beneath me swayed gently. The sound of water surrounded us. When my vision cleared, I saw them. All of them. David stood near the railing, face stiff. Roxanne was wrapped in layers, leaning against him like she could collapse any second. My parents were there too, standing close, their faces tight with anger.
And then I saw my son.
Ryle was kneeling beside me.
His small hands were shaking as he clung to my sleeve. His eyes were red and swollen from crying. He kept bowing his head again and again.
“I’m sorry,” he kept saying in a tiny voice. “I’ll be good. I won’t be bad anymore. Please don’t hurt my mom. Please.”
My heart cracked open.
I tried to sit up, but before I could say his name, my mother stepped forward and slapped me hard across the face. My head snapped to the side. I tasted blood.
“You evil thing,” she screamed. “You killed your sister’s babies!”
My father followed. His fist came down on my shoulder, then my back. I curled up instinctively, arms over my head, hearing nothing but my own breath and Ryle crying.
“How could you do this to Roxanne?!” my mother shouted again. “You were always jealous! Always cruel.”