My parents always favored my sister, Vivian, ever since we were kids. The most desperate time in my life was when Julian Thorne, my father’s much younger acquaintance, appeared. He was eight years my senior, a top-tier magnate in the city’s elite circles, a ruthless devil feared by all, with a brutal, cold-blooded approach. Yet, he held me in the palm of his hand, doting on me beyond reason. I said I liked ginkgo trees, so he bought an entire street and planted it full of them. I mentioned craving the artisanal churros from that famous shop across town, and he’d drive at 3 AM to bring them to me. When I had period cramps, he’d fly back from overseas for over a dozen hours, holding me and comforting me all night long. Every woman in the city’s high society wanted to marry him, but his eyes were only for me. On our wedding day, he knelt on one knee to put on my shoes, making the city’s most prominent socialites burn with insane jealousy. After we married, his adoration knew no bounds. When I had morning sickness, he’d cancel cross-continental meetings to stay with me. If I got leg cramps in the middle of the night, he’d wake instantly to massage my leg. When I was seven months pregnant, I returned to the family estate for a formal dinner party. Suddenly, a fire erupted, with thick smoke billowing everywhere. My always-partial parents, one on each side, shielded Vivian as they rushed out, leaving me to be knocked to the ground, my abdomen hitting the sharp corner of a table with a sickening thud. At death’s door, a figure burst through the flames. Julian, his hands covered in blood, scooped me up. “Don’t be scared, Seraphina. I’m here.” Tears streamed down my face in his arms. In that moment, I finally believed I was deeply loved. It wasn’t until three days later, waking up in the hospital, that I stumbled, dragging my IV pole, to find him. As I reached the hallway, I overheard a chilling conversation – “Who gave you permission to set the fire?!” Julian’s voice was like a blade of ice. “She’s only seven months along. You were so eager to drug her and cut the baby out. Were you trying to kill her and the child?!” My parents’ voices were barely a whisper, meek and submissive. “We had no choice… Vivian’s leukemia is getting worse, she desperately needs the baby’s bone marrow. We couldn’t wait any longer…” “I want to save Vivian more than any of you!” His deep, suppressed tone made my blood run cold. “Otherwise, why would I have gone to such lengths to get close to Seraphina, to get her pregnant?!” Seraphina Sterling’s world imploded. “You are not to act on your own again,” he said, slowly and deliberately. “I have my own plan.” My parents nodded repeatedly. “Yes, yes, we were too hasty…” Seraphina stumbled away from the hallway, her legs so weak she could barely stand. She leaned against the cold wall, silent tears streaming down her face. So, Julian married me, doted on me, got me pregnant… All of it was to use my baby to save his beloved Vivian Sterling. So, he loved Vivian too! I clutched the IV pole, my nails digging deep into my palms, but I felt no pain. My mind replayed countless moments from the past, uncontrollably. My mother had a difficult labor when she had me, almost losing her life, so she resented me from childhood. My father was famously devoted to his wife, which meant he despised me too, showering only Vivian with affection. For Vivian’s birthday, my parents rented out an entire amusement park. For mine, I didn’t even get a slice of cake. When Vivian was sick, my parents stayed up all night by her bedside. When I had a fever of 104 degrees, I could only curl up in my bed alone, trying to tough it out. I thought no one would ever love me. Until that day, when I went to the Thorne family’s party. Vivian deliberately pushed me into the pool, mocking me as a pathetic, unwanted wretch. I was soaked, humiliated, surrounded by laughter. Just when I was at my most desperate, Julian appeared like a godsend, taking off his suit jacket and placing it over my shoulders. His cold gaze swept over the crowd. “Anyone else laugh? Try me.” In that moment, I fell in love with him at first sight. I never imagined Julian would also like me. He pursued me relentlessly, and after we married, he doted on me to the heavens. Yet, every night, he would take me fiercely, refusing to let go even when I cried and begged. I thought he was my salvation. It turned out… He loved Vivian too. Three years ago, Vivian was diagnosed with leukemia. My parents immediately did a matching test, and even dragged me along. Neither of us was a match. I remember distinctly hearing the doctor say, “The only way now is for Ms. Sterling to have a child and see if the baby’s bone marrow is a match.” So, this was Julian Thorne’s purpose in approaching me, pursuing me? For Vivian, he was even willing to sacrifice himself. His love was also a lie… I was heartbroken, staggering back, but at Vivian’s hospital room door, I heard her on the phone. “Don’t worry, my leukemia is fake,” Vivian’s voice held a triumphant laugh. “I just wanted to see Seraphina get more and more desperate.” “And Julian, he thinks it was me he fell in love with at first sight all those years ago, which is why he’s so good to me. But he has no idea that the person playing the violin in the garden that day was actually Seraphina!” “I won’t let her steal Julian from me, never!” I froze, my blood ran to ice, freezing me in place. So… Julian had loved the wrong person all along. His heart and soul were focused on Vivian, yet he didn’t know the one who truly captured his heart was me. And I, because of this misplaced love, was thoroughly used. I numbly raised my hand, realizing I had recorded the entire video. I don’t know how I got back to the doctor’s office. “I want an abortion,” my voice was hoarse, yet exceptionally firm. The doctor looked at me in shock. “Ms. Sterling, the baby is already seven months old. Are you sure you don’t want to keep it?” “I’m sure,” I said, each word feeling like it was tearing my heart out. The doctor looked troubled. “But Mr. Thorne explicitly said this child is very important. We can’t perform the surgery without his consent. If you insist, this consent form must be signed by Mr. Thorne…” I closed my eyes, picked up the consent form, and turned to leave. As I pushed open the door, I collided with Julian, who was rushing over. He was impeccably dressed, his features as striking as a Greek god’s, but at this moment, he showed clear signs of anxiety. The moment he saw me, his frown eased, and he strode forward to pull me into his embrace. “Where did you run off to, sweetheart?” His palm rested on the back of my neck, his voice low and husky. “Were you trying to worry me to death? Hmm?” His crisp cedarwood scent enveloped me. The warmth that once brought me comfort now felt like a knife. I looked up at him, asking softly, “Are you very afraid of something happening to me?” Julian frowned slightly, his thumb gently stroking my cheek. “Of course. Who in the whole city doesn’t know you’re my life? Especially now that you’re carrying our child.” Child… My heart fiercely constricted, the pain almost making me lose my footing. I lowered my eyes to hide my emotions, handing him the consent form. “I’m going for a check-up, and I need your signature.” Julian took the document, his gaze pausing as it scanned the paper. “What kind of check-up?” I instinctively used my hand to cover the bottom half of the content, my voice as light as falling snow. “A routine… late-term pregnancy screening.” He frowned, about to look closer, when his phone suddenly vibrated. A SnapChat message from Vivian popped up: “Julian, I’m feeling so unwell…” Julian’s expression changed drastically. He didn’t look at the document again, hastily signing it and pressing it back into my hand. “Seraphina, I have an urgent matter.” He cupped my face and kissed me. “You go for your check-up first. Once I’m done, I’ll be with you and the baby.” Before his words fully faded, he had already turned and left, his silhouette disappearing around the corridor corner. I stood there, staring at his flamboyant signature on the consent form. My tears fell on the bolded words “Induction Abortion,” blurring them into an illegible smear. … On the operating table, cold instruments pierced my body. Because it was an induction, no anesthetic could be used. Every inch of flesh tearing apart was excruciatingly clear. I bit down hard on my lip until the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth, yet my mind uncontrollably replayed the past. When we first met, he took off his suit jacket and placed it over me, his eyes cold yet tender. “Don’t be scared.” On our wedding night, he knelt on one knee to put on my shoes, his fingertips gently caressing my ankle as he whispered, “Seraphina, I’ll be good to you for a lifetime.” When I had morning sickness, he personally fed me porridge, speaking softly like he was coaxing a child. “Just one more bite, hmm?” … All of it was a lie. “Ah—!” The pain suddenly intensified. I finally couldn’t hold back a scream, my nails digging deep into my palms. In a daze, I thought I heard a baby’s cry, but it might have just been a hallucination. “Julian Thorne…” I whispered his name in my heart, tears mixing with sweat. The baby was gone. So were we. I lay in the hospital for a day. No one came to see me. Not my parents, and not Julian. I completed the discharge procedures alone. As I passed the VIP ward, through the slightly open door, I saw the scene inside— My parents sat on either side of Vivian’s bed, looking heartbroken as they peeled fruit and gave her water. Julian stood nearby, holding a medical report, his brows slightly furrowed, talking softly with the doctor. Vivian tugged at his sleeve, as if pouting playfully. He immediately leaned over, gently tucking her blanket. I stood outside the door, my fingertips unconsciously digging into my palm. I remembered when Vivian and I both had fevers as children. My parents stayed by Vivian’s bedside all night, but never even poured me a glass of water. Later, I got used to it. Even later, I met Julian Thorne. The love he gave me was so abundant that I no longer needed to envy anyone. But now, For the first time, I saw Julian treat Vivian better than he ever treated me. It turned out, truly, no one loved me. … Back at the villa, I bought a fake pillow, stuffed it under my clothes, pretending to still be pregnant. Then, I placed the eight-month-old fetus I had aborted into an elegant gift box, preserved it in formaldehyde, and carefully locked it in a drawer. This would be my gift to Julian Thorne. After doing all this, I picked up my phone and dialed the number for St. Agnes Monastery. “Hello, I’d like to join your order,” my voice was soft, yet exceptionally clear. There was a moment of silence on the other end, then a slow reply. “My child, to enter our monastic order, one must sever all worldly ties and attachments, never again to be stained by the dust of this world. Are you sure you have thought this through?” “I have,” I replied. “Then please come to the monastery in two weeks, and we will hold your initiation ceremony.” I softly hummed in agreement and hung up the phone. Not long after, footsteps sounded outside the door. Julian pushed the door open, his brows slightly furrowed. “Seraphina, why did you discharge yourself without telling me?” He walked closer, placing his palm on my abdomen, his voice deep. “Don’t do that again, you hear? How were the test results? Is the baby alright?” Before I could speak, Vivian walked in, a sweet smile on her face— “Sister, how could you come back without a word? You don’t know how worried Julian was, he almost tore the hospital apart.” I looked up at Julian. The man immediately explained, “Vivian wanted to be discharged recently to recover, and the air here is good, so we brought her to stay for a few days.” Vivian smiled innocently. “I’ll be imposing for a few days.” Her eyes were full of provocation, as if waiting to see me collapse, go mad, or become hysterical. But I just calmly nodded. “No imposition at all.” … For the rest of the day, I sat on the sofa, watching silently. I watched Julian personally arrange for the staff to clean Vivian’s guest room, giving meticulous instructions: “The mattress must be the softest, her back isn’t good.” I watched him at dinner, remembering all of Vivian’s dietary restrictions.
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