When I was nine months pregnant, the woman Julian Blackwood considered his one true love, Seraphina Hayes, moved into our home under false pretenses. Every time she saw me, she’d dramatically clutch her chest, a picture of delicate sorrow, as if my very presence was a painful memory for her. Julian became convinced I was deliberately parading my huge belly around to provoke Seraphina. “Seraphina is too delicate to have children! And you insist on flaunting your pregnancy in front of her every day! It seems you won’t learn your lesson without a good punishment!” He ordered his staff to seal me away in the forgotten attic, forbidding anyone from bringing me food. I struggled, begging him, telling him the ultrasound showed the twins were overgrown, and the doctor had ordered me to be admitted for labor *today*. But he just laughed, as if I’d told a hilarious joke, his voice like shards of ice: “You’re not due for another three days! Stop playing the victim! Go to the attic and think about what you’ve done! This is what happens when you upset Seraphina!” My contractions ripped through me, so intense I clawed my nails until they broke, but no one came to open the door. My raw, gut-wrenching screams echoed in that lonely attic for hours. Until I was soaked in my own blood, a small, unformed baby still tragically stuck in the raw, bloody cavern where my body had torn. Three days later, Julian, sipping a plain, unappetizing broth, finally spoke: “Tell Iris to come out and make me some broth, then have her go apologize to Seraphina. If her apology is sincere, then send her to the hospital to deliver the baby.” No one dared to answer. Because the blood from the attic had already seeped out, staining the second step of the staircase.
“Why isn’t that jealous woman, Iris, screaming anymore?” “Sir… is Madam alright? Her screams last night were truly agonizing, heart-wrenching…” Julian Blackwood took a sip of his broth, scoffing dismissively. “No one knows Iris better than I do. She’s just faking it for attention! This time, I’m going to teach her a lesson she won’t forget, so she’ll finally leave Seraphina alone!” Mr. Davis, the housekeeper, glanced nervously towards the attic, stammering: “But Madam is carrying twins, Sir. The doctor said she needed to be admitted for labor early…” Julian’s hand, holding the spoon, paused. A flicker of uncertainty crossed his face. “Is that so?” He scraped his spoon around the bowl for a moment, a hint of hesitation in his eyes. “Fine. Tell Iris to come out, make me some broth, and then crawl over here to apologize to Seraphina! It’s her due date today, so if her apology is sincere, we’ll send her to the hospital.” Julian warmed a glass of milk and walked into the guest bedroom. On the bed, Seraphina Hayes was breathing softly, evenly. The blanket had slipped off her shoulder, and a sliver of cleavage was tantalizingly revealed. Julian’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He stared at her for a long moment, visibly fighting to tear his eyes away, before finally leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips. Seraphina slowly opened her eyes, stretched languidly, and pouted, her voice a soft, alluring purr: “Julian~ You’re teasing me again~” Julian parted his legs, letting Seraphina settle into his lap, his fingers gently tracing her waist. “How could anyone resist when you look like that?” Seraphina buried her head in Julian’s chest, purring contentedly. “But Julian, Iris is carrying your child, and we’re both women. I can’t let you betray her when she’s at her most vulnerable!” Suddenly, as if remembering something, she looked up, her face etched with anxiety: “Iris was screaming so loudly last night, was she going into labor? Oh… even hearing Iris scream in such agony, I still feel envious! To carry *your* baby, Julian – even the pain of childbirth would be a sweet happiness for me.” Sweet happiness? My spirit, now a ghost, hovered near them. The attic floor was slick with crimson blood, a horrifying canvas that covered every inch of the room. The walls bore deep gouges, raw streaks where I’d clawed in agony, fragments of my broken nails and torn flesh clinging to the plaster. And below, I’d torn myself apart, desperately trying to bring my children into the world. When I finally managed to deliver the first baby, he was already still, lifeless. Blood erupted from the gaping wound in my lower body, and the second baby was tragically stuck there, half-delivered in a ruined, bloody mess. My hair was matted with sticky blood. Cradling my lifeless, blood-soaked baby, my eyes wide and unseeing, I finally stopped breathing. I wondered what Julian’s reaction would be, whenever he finally saw this gruesome scene. But now, he was only concerned with pulling Seraphina deeper into his embrace. His voice was thick with guilt and self-reproach: “It’s all my fault! I shouldn’t have let Iris, pregnant or not, upset you. I swear, this is the last time *that woman* will ever be pregnant with my child! You won’t see another pregnant woman in this house, ever.” “You don’t know the lengths Iris went to, trying to manipulate me. She lied, claimed she was terrified of a difficult birth because the twins were so big, even said the doctor insisted she be hospitalized immediately.” “She’s a wilderness survival expert! She can last three days and nights in the wild without food! And she tells me she’s *scared* of childbirth?” My chest tightened in a sharp, agonizing pain, stealing my breath. A pregnant woman’s body is already so vulnerable, let alone carrying twins. From the moment I conceived, the relentless discomfort of this pregnancy had drained me, body and soul. Several times, my poor health during pregnancy forced me into the hospital to prevent miscarriage.
When I was first locked in the attic, I pleaded and begged him to let me out. Because if I was truly locked up for three days, it would mean three lives lost – mine and both my babies! But Julian, right in front of me, loudly instructed Mr. Davis: “Go! Throw the keys into the filthiest river you can find! And no one, I mean NO ONE, is to secretly open that door for Iris! In three days, I want her crawling on her knees to apologize to Seraphina!” Desperate to survive, I tore down a framed picture from the wall, my hands bleeding, and used the jagged edges to pry at the attic window. I clawed at the frame, my fingernails brutally ripping off one by one. Gritting my teeth against the searing pain, I pushed myself out the window and onto the narrow ledge, clinging desperately to the roof tiles, inching my way towards an adjacent room, hoping to escape. But what did I find? Down in the garden, Julian Blackwood was passionately kissing Seraphina, pulling her fiercely against him. They were kissing with reckless abandon, a wild frenzy that was on the verge of spiraling out of control. Seraphina abruptly pushed Julian away, her head snapping up towards the attic, and she let out a piercing scream. Julian looked up and his face contorted with fury at the sight of me desperately trying to escape. He ordered men to bring a construction crane. He personally operated it, using the huge shovel attachment to pin against my swollen belly, brutally forcing me back into the attic. Excruciating pain exploded in my abdomen, and blood, seemingly endless, began to stream, gushing relentlessly from between my legs. Finally, my eyes remained wide open, staring blankly, my blood-soaked baby clutched lifelessly in my arms. And then I stopped breathing. Julian held the cup of warm milk to Seraphina’s lips. “I’ve already sent someone to bring Iris to apologize to you. If she’s sincere, we’ll send her to the hospital. If not, she can just give birth in the attic!” Seraphina took tiny sips of milk, but still managed to choke on a mouthful, coughing delicately, her eyes welling up with tears, a picture of fragile helplessness. “Julian, you can’t treat Iris like that! Childbirth is really dangerous for women!” Julian sighed, his eyes filled with doting affection as he looked at the girl in his arms: “You’re just too kind, that’s why women like Iris walk all over you! Iris is a wilderness survival expert; she could last three days without food or water! But you, my delicate little thing, you choke just from drinking milk!” He playfully tapped her nose. “And saying childbirth is dangerous, as if you’d know anything about it!” A flicker of panic crossed Seraphina’s eyes, but she quickly lowered her head, her voice laced with feigned hurt: “Only you, Julian… truly understand the delicate heart hidden beneath my strong exterior…” She looked up again, her eyes misty, her lips glistening from being gently bitten. Hooking her arms around Julian’s neck, she pressed her chest against his, a subtle, tantalizing rub. Julian could no longer resist. With a ragged breath, he kissed her, and Seraphina let out a soft murmur. Their lips tangled fiercely, their bodies hungry for each other. But at the last second, Seraphina abruptly pushed away the panting man: “No! You’re a married man, and Iris is still carrying your child! I won’t be a homewrecker!” Julian’s eyes blazed with barely contained desire. His voice was a raw, husky whisper: “Alright, Seraphina, I, Julian Blackwood, will never betray your true feelings! Just wait a little longer for me! A *clean* me, free of all this mess, will be worthy of touching a pure woman like you!” With that, still unsatisfied, he pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, as if she were the most precious, delicate jewel. A flash of triumph flickered in Seraphina’s eyes.
Julian couldn’t see it, but I could. Not a homewrecker? I found it utterly absurd, laughable! Then what about the countless times she tracked me down, shamelessly telling me that my pregnancy was just a temporary inconvenience, that I was simply ‘warming up the bed’ for her, and even the children I birthed would eventually call *her* ‘Mom’? What did *that* count as? She moved into my home under the pathetic excuse of being sick and alone. She openly flirted with Julian at the dinner table, so shamelessly that even our housekeeper, Mrs. Davis, couldn’t stand it and made a few pointed, sarcastic comments. Seraphina immediately ran to Julian, complaining that Mrs. Davis hadn’t washed the groceries properly, giving her a stomach bug, and demanded she be fired. Back then, I had no appetite due to my pregnancy, and Mrs. Davis’s cooking was the only thing I could stomach. Out of politeness, I approached her and offered to hire a private chef just for her. Her response was a stinging slap across my face. “It doesn’t matter if the food is good or not; what matters is knowing who the real lady of this house is! Iris, I want you to understand: there’s only one Mrs. Blackwood, and that’s *me*, Seraphina Hayes!” To further prove she would be Mrs. Blackwood, she huddled in Julian’s arms, whimpering like a kitten. She tearfully wailed about her misfortune, how she was cursed not to be able to bear him children. And seeing me, with my swollen belly, every day was bound to make her feel disheartened and sad. “I’ve tried my best to avoid Iris, but it’s impossible not to see her every day! Maybe I should just move out! Seraphina is so unhappy living in such constant pain!” Julian’s temper snapped. His face contorted into a cold, menacing mask as he lunged forward and slapped me so hard I stumbled and fell to the floor. “You *know* Seraphina gets distressed every time she sees a pregnant woman, yet you insist on parading your huge belly in front of her all day long! What exactly are you trying to accomplish?!” “You vile, wicked woman! You don’t deserve to be a mother! Today, I’m locking you in the attic! Let’s see how you like a taste of real hardship!” Several bodyguards grabbed my limbs, dragging and tossing me into the dusty, desolate attic. “The doctor told me to go to the hospital to deliver *today*! If I’m at the hospital, she won’t even *see* me!” I clawed desperately at the doorframe, begging through choking sobs. Julian sneered, “Even your lies need to be consistent. Your due date isn’t for another three days!” He ignored my desperate pleas, slamming the door shut with brutal force. My fingers were brutally caught in the frame, the searing pain making me arch my back and snatch my hand away, silencing any further words. Julian looked on, a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes, before locking the attic door. Meanwhile, back in the guest room, Julian and Seraphina were still lost in their passionate embrace, demanding from each other, when Mr. Davis came running, breathless, his voice trembling with panic: “Madam… Madam is gone!” “Gone?!” Julian snapped his head up, an irritated frown on his face, clearly annoyed by the interruption. Mr. Davis wiped the sweat from his forehead, his voice shaky: “The attic is covered in blood… Madam… she…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish.
Julian smoothed down his disheveled shirt. “What blood? Oh, she’s probably just spotting, a sign of labor, right? Send her to the hospital.” Mr. Davis swallowed hard, forcing himself to continue: “Madam… she’s not breathing anymore…” A flicker of panic entered Julian’s voice. Just as I leaned closer to hear, his tone hardened, becoming cold and vicious again. “Faking it! Keep faking it for me! I want to see how long she can keep up this act!” “She survived under such harsh conditions in the wilderness; she can hold her breath underwater for over ten minutes! She’s just trying to trick you all because you have no medical knowledge! Call my personal physician. I’ll expose her charade in front of him!” Mr. Davis’s eyes widened. “Mr. Blackwood, Madam’s babies are already…” “Whose orders do you follow?!” Julian interrupted impatiently. “Do I pay your salary, or does *that woman* pay your salary?” “Sir… I’ll go call the doctor immediately…” Mr. Davis sighed helplessly and left. Seraphina, soft and pliant, pressed against Julian. “Julian, don’t be angry. Anger is bad for your health.” “Iris is just so good at winning people over! How is it that after only a few years, this house belongs to her?!” Julian’s words struck me like a slap, waking me from my foolish delusions. In just three years, he had completely forgotten his old promises. On our wedding day, Julian, his eyes filled with love, had told me, “This is your home now, Iris. You are the sole lady of this house.” My tears streamed uncontrollably. Just moments ago, I was still foolishly fantasizing that if Julian knew I had died in childbirth, he might feel a trace of regret or self-reproach… How ridiculous I was now, was how foolish I had been then. I actually believed Julian’s promise that he would love me forever. Years ago, Julian and Seraphina were childhood sweethearts, destined for an arranged marriage. But Seraphina was unexpectedly diagnosed with a condition that made natural conception impossible. So, she left without a word, boarding a plane to another country, severing all contact with Julian. She claimed, melodramatically, that Julian was the sole heir to the Blackwood family, and how could she bear to marry him and end his family line? To escape the pain of their breakup, Julian joined a wilderness expedition team. And I, by chance, was the team leader. Later, when he proposed, he said I was courageous and resilient, the embodiment of all that was good in the world. That I was the guiding light in his lost wanderings, the destined harbor for his heart. After we married, he decided wilderness expeditions were too dangerous. He insisted I resign and stay home to prepare for pregnancy, to bear an heir for the Blackwood family. However, during the days Julian and Seraphina had broken up, he’d drowned himself in alcohol and sleepless nights, his body already frail and depleted. Under intense pressure from the Blackwood family elders to produce an heir, I worked tirelessly to restore his health while actively trying to conceive. Finally, in our third year of marriage, I successfully became pregnant with twins. Julian’s parents were so thrilled, they immediately called a press conference, announcing that the children I bore would be the sole heirs to the Blackwood Group. It was then that Seraphina returned to the country. And returned with a carefully crafted statement: “I have no interest in the company’s inheritance. Just being with Julian is all Seraphina needs to be happy for a lifetime.” 4 Julian started staying out all night, his crisp white shirts often bearing indelible red lipstick stains. I resolutely filed for divorce, but Julian refused to let me go, citing the twins in my womb as the Blackwood Group’s heirs.
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