“As long as the baby comes to term, that healthy little heart will save Aurora. That was the deal from the beginning. Marry Amelia. Get her pregnant. All for this.” My world shattered. He had raced into the flames to save me, not out of love, but because my womb carried the spare parts for his true love. I wasn’t his heart. I was the incubator for a heart. The disposable vessel. And my purpose was nearly served. Amelia POV Alexander loved me. All of New York knew it. For a blissful, foolish stretch of time, I believed it too. When my fingers turned to ice after hours with the cello, he’d gather them into his own warm, broad palms, his brow creased with a concern that felt utterly real. “My Amelia’s hands are meant to create beauty, not endure pain.” In the Sterling mansion, I had been a ghost. The light, the warmth, every smile-all flowed to my sister, Aurora. Then Alexander came. He didn’t just notice me. He pulled me forcibly from the toxic swamp of my birth family. He gave me a wedding they still talk about. He gave me Sycamore Estate, with its cathedral of rustling plane trees. Most of all, he gave me a home. I was naive enough to believe this was the beginning of happiness. Until the fire. It didn’t just engulf the yacht. It turned every dream I owned to ash. It was the anniversary celebration of Pierce Group. The yacht cruised slowly along the Hudson River, packed with Manhattan’s elite. Halfway through the dinner, he presented me with a sapphire necklace in front of all the guests. “Amelia, you are my heart.” He whispered in my ear, his gaze burning with an intensity that took my breath away. Leaning into his strong embrace, I closed my eyes in contentment, feeling I had no regrets in this life. But catastrophe doesn’t knock. It explodes. The fire erupted without warning, thick smoke billowing out, sharp alarms tearing through the facade of luxury. People screamed and fled; the scene was pure chaos. I was shoved violently, a tearing pain shooting through my ankle, leaving me unable to move. In the confusion, I saw my parents-Mr. and Mrs. Sterling. Their faces were etched with panic. When they saw me on the ground, their steps faltered for only a fleeting moment before they unhesitatingly stepped over me, rushing in the opposite direction. I heard my mother’s heartbroken cry. “Aurora! Where is my Aurora!” They didn’t even spare me a glance. At that moment, my heart felt like it had been plunged into the frozen Atlantic, even the pain turning numb. The smoke was suffocating. Flames clawed at the doorframe, and the air itself burned in my lungs. I curled up in a corner in despair, my consciousness on the verge of being swallowed by darkness. Just then, a tall figure forcefully burst through the warped door, rushing in against the fiery glow. It was Alexander. His usually immaculate golden-brown hair was wild, his bespoke suit scarred by burns and sparks. He stripped off his jacket, wrapped my slender body tightly, and swept me into his arms. A burning piece of wood crashed heavily onto his back. I distinctly heard his muffled groan, but the arm holding me tightened even more. “Don’t be scared, I’ll get you out.” His voice cut through the inferno, anchoring my drifting soul. Held securely in his embrace, those dozens of feet through the sea of flames became the hottest brand on my memory. I thought, even if the whole world abandoned me, Alexander Pierce wouldn’t. When I woke again, I smelled the antiseptic of a hospital. I lay in a VIP room, Alexander by my side. Seeing me awake, his deep eyes filled with joy and relief. “Amelia, you’re awake? Do you feel unwell anywhere?” I weakly shook my head, wanting to check if he was hurt. He pressed me gently back onto the pillows. “I’m fine, just superficial burns. What matters is that you and the baby are safe.” Baby? I instinctively stroked my flat stomach. The doctor had checked me and said I only suffered from smoke inhalation and a twisted ankle, nothing serious. The baby was also safe. Alexander, however, was still worried and insisted I stay for observation. My parents and Aurora also came, thanking Alexander profusely. My mother held Aurora’s hand, weeping like a broken doll, as if her most cherished youngest daughter was the one who had just narrowly escaped death. After Alexander escorted them out, the medication made me drowsy, and I drifted back to sleep. Time lost all meaning. I was pulled back to awareness by hushed, urgent voices just outside the door. I didn’t open my eyes, but their words pierced my ears, clear as day. It was my mother’s urgent voice. “Alexander…the baby. Amelia’s baby. The fire didn’t…harm it, did it?” “It’s fine. The doctors have confirmed. The fetus is perfectly healthy.” Alexander’s voice was as steady as ever, but devoid of the usual tenderness. “I was careless. I shouldn’t have put her in danger. This child is too important for Aurora.” Aurora? My heart constricted fiercely, a chilling cold spreading through my limbs. Then I heard my father sigh heavily. “Aurora’s heart probably can’t wait much longer. Alexander, once the baby is born-” “I’ve already made arrangements, Dad.” Alexander cut him off, his voice cold as ancient ice. “As long as the baby comes to term, that healthy little heart will save Aurora. That was the deal from the beginning. Marry Amelia. Get her pregnant. All for this.” To marry Amelia? To get her pregnant? It was all for this day. To take the heart of my unborn child to save Aurora? Boom-my world shattered into a million pieces. He had raced into the flames to save me, not out of love, but because my womb carried the spare parts for his true love. I wasn’t his heart. I was just a vessel, an incubator for a heart, expendable at any moment. Cold liquid flowed into my veins through the IV drip, and also into my heart. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the blood in my body freeze inch by agonizing inch.
Amelia POV I don’t know how I walked out of that hospital room. In my mind, only Alexander’s cold, ruthless words echoed repeatedly. Marry Amelia, get her pregnant, it was all for this day. I slid down the wall to the floor, my chest aching, suffocating me. Tears streamed down, blurring the entire world. All the good he had given me, all his preferential treatment, it was all just for this as-yet-unformed heart in my belly. I was such a fool, grateful to him even as he ensnared me in his scheme. Just as I was on the verge of collapse, a familiar and shrill voice, laced with unconcealed triumph, drifted from behind the emergency exit door. It was Aurora. “…Don’t worry, everything’s going smoothly. Alexander is obsessed with me; he’ll do anything for me. Marry that Amelia? He’s just using her uterus.” My sobbing stopped instantly. I forced myself to stand, inching towards the door, peeking through the glass pane. Aurora was casually leaning against the window, talking on her phone, her face twisted with a malice completely unlike her usual gentle demeanor. “Congenital heart defect? Ha! You actually believe that? It’s just a few falsified medical records. Someone like Alexander, blinded by guilt and ‘love,’ believes whatever I tell him.” My mind went blank. Fake? Even that heart condition, which had burdened me with guilt for over a decade, was a lie? “He fell in love at first sight with a girl playing the cello under the sycamore tree all those years ago. He was practically blind. All he remembered was a white dress. He never knew it was Amelia, not me.” “I simply took her identity, played her role, and he bought it hook, line, and sinker. Now, he’s going to give me Amelia’s baby’s heart to cure a non-existent illness. Isn’t that hilarious?” “Once I have the heart and stage a little ‘miraculous recovery,’ I’ll be his beloved, plucked from death’s door. And Amelia? No baby, no purpose. Do you honestly believe Alexander will look at that empty husk twice?” The voice on the other end of the phone was indistinct, but Aurora’s triumphant laughter pricked my heart like needles. So, he had loved the wrong person. And I was the girl under the tree. I was the one he was looking for. My fingers turned white as I pulled out my phone, calmly pressed the record button, and captured all of Aurora’s further malicious plans. Only when Aurora hung up the phone did I put away my cell and walk back to my room. Alexander returned shortly, carrying the chicken soup I loved. Seeing me sitting quietly by the bed, he sighed with relief. “Why are you up? Shouldn’t you get more rest?” He walked over, habitually reaching out to touch my head. I instinctively flinched, avoiding his touch. His hand froze in mid-air, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing.” I looked up and smiled at him. “I just feel a bit unwell. My ankle is still aching, I think it might be worse than we thought.” Alexander immediately frowned. “I’ll go call the doctor for you.” “But…” I feigned hesitation, gently stroking my belly, my voice laced with worry, “the doctor said medication for pregnant women can have side effects and might affect the fetus. I’m a little scared.” I could feel Alexander’s gaze immediately fix on my stomach. “Alexander, I’m so afraid. I don’t want there to be any risk to this baby,” I said, my eyes welling up, my voice trembling. Sure enough, his expression darkened. What he cared about most was the absolute health of this child. “Then let’s not worry about it for now,” he decided immediately. “But I really am uncomfortable,” I looked at him, my voice breaking into a whimper. “The doctor said if I leave it untreated, it could lead to permanent damage. I’m scared… this kind of stress might harm the baby.” That sentence hit his weak spot. Alexander’s expression shifted repeatedly before he walked out of the room. He returned shortly, followed by a woman in a crisp white coat. I recognized her instantly. Dr. Harper. She was the chief obstetrician at this private hospital, but more importantly, she had been Aurora’s best friend since their university sorority days. Harper looked at me with a professionally detached gaze, though a flicker of disdain crossed her eyes. “Alexander, Amelia seems very stressed, which could induce contractions. While her vitals are stable, I strongly recommend a special sedative to soothe her nerves, along with some nutrient fluids to help the fetus develop.” Harper said, taking a tray with a small glass from a nurse. Alexander hesitated, his brows furrowed. “Is it safe for the baby?” “Of course. I’m Aurora’s best friend. Do you think I’d risk anything that could harm her future nephew? It’s merely to grant her peaceful rest. And rest, Alexander, is the greatest gift we can give the baby now.” Alexander nodded, his guard dropping instantly. He never questioned anyone in Aurora’s inner circle. “Thank you, Harper,” he said, then turned to me, his voice softening. “Amelia, listen to the doctor. Drink this and get some sleep.” Just then, Alexander’s phone rang-an urgent business call-and he stepped out into the hallway. Silence filled the room. Only Harper and I remained. She walked to the bedside, holding the glass of cloudy brown liquid. The professional smile vanished, replaced by a sneer. She leaned close, her voice hissing in my ear like a snake. “Amelia, Aurora is too kind for her own good. But I’m not. This bastard in your belly is the biggest obstacle between Aurora and Alexander. Once this ‘problem’ is dealt with, Alexander will kick you out, right back where you belong.” She had no idea. She had absolutely no idea that Aurora needed this baby alive. Aurora needed the heart. In Harper’s mind, she was merely fulfilling the duty of a loyal friend, eliminating a rival’s leverage. She believed that by inducing a miscarriage, she would ensure Aurora and Alexander’s marriage proceeded smoothly. The irony was almost too perfect to bear. Aurora’s most devoted ally was about to unwittingly burn down her entire life’s scheme.
Amelia POV Harper pressed the glass to my lips, her eyes full of menace. “This is a strong ‘calm-down’ medication. You might feel a little stomach ache, but you’ll sleep soundly. If you don’t drink it, I have plenty of ways to make sure you won’t stay in this hospital.” I looked at the cloudy liquid, and suddenly, everything became crystal clear in my mind. If I drank this, my baby would die, but he would die whole. He wouldn’t suffer the prolonged agony of being kept alive only to be cruelly murdered for his heart. If I refused and gave birth, my child would face a fate far more cruel than death. “Lord, forgive me,” I murmured silently. “I am not the one holding the blade. I am merely… ceasing to struggle.” I looked up, my hands trembling as I took the glass. “Alright,” I whispered, “I’ll drink it.” Under Harper’s triumphant gaze, I tilted my head back and swallowed the bitter, pungent concoction in one gulp. Harper clapped her hands softly, a satisfied smirk on her face. “Good girl. Sleep now. When you wake up, everything will be ‘better.’” She turned and left, the door clicking shut behind her. I leaned back on the pillow, waiting for the judgment to come. Harper, you, with your own hands, had destroyed Aurora’s only lifeline. The medication worked quickly, but it was potent. At midnight, a thunderstorm raged over Manhattan. The thunder rattled the windowpanes, drowning out my heavy breathing. A violent spasm seized me, my abdomen twisting and tearing, as if an invisible hand reached inside me, ripping everything to shreds. I bit down hard, my teeth aching, cold sweat drenching my hospital gown. The pain was clear, brutal, absolute. But I didn’t utter a sound. No operating table, no cold surgical instruments. Only the darkness of the VIP suite, and the slow draining of my life. I curled up under the blankets, feeling a warm gush of fluid from my body. Every time a life departs, a part of a mother’s soul breaks. I remembered Alexander’s smile the first time he learned I was pregnant. I remembered the fragile, fake bubble of happiness I once lived in. I’m sorry, my baby. Mama couldn’t protect you. Mama only hoped you could leave this dirty world unharmed. Better to return to God than to become a harvest for the wicked. I don’t know how long it was before the pain subsided, replaced by an empty, chilling loneliness. Gathering my last strength, I dragged my exhausted body to the bathroom and cleaned up the evidence. I gazed at my reflection in the mirror-my face pale as a ghost, my eyes dry, not a single tear trace, only a deathly silence. It was over. The “medicine” that could save Aurora was gone. The next morning, Harper came to the hospital, ostensibly for rounds. She dismissed the nurses and performed a quick examination. Seeing the results, a triumphant smile played on her lips. “Looks like you slept well,” she said. “Some things are just not meant to last. Now, you’re just a useless ex-wife.” She thought she had done Aurora a huge favor. I looked at her, feigning the weak, helpless, heartbroken victim. I put on a terrified front, widening my eyes. “My stomach… why does it feel so empty…” “Shh.” Harper pressed a finger to my lips. “Keep your voice down. Unless you want Alexander to know you’re too weak to carry his precious heir, then keep quiet. I’ll tamper with the medical records. As long as you stay silent, no one will know for now.” To avoid a malpractice lawsuit or an investigation into illegal drugs, she offered to help me cover it up. This was exactly what I wanted. “Please.” I clutched her sleeve, pretending to burst into tears. “Don’t tell Alexander. He’ll kill me.” “Hmph. You’d better leave the Pierce family soon.” She flung my hand away, strutting out of the room like a queen. I watched her retreating back, a faint, cold smile playing on my lips. Now, only one person in the world knew about my baby’s death. As long as Dr. Harper disappeared, this secret could be kept until I was ready to drop the bombshell.
Amelia POV I stayed in the hospital for two more days, behaving unusually docilely. Alexander visited me daily, completely unaware. He looked at my abdomen with anticipation-where a prosthesis was carefully padded. The night before I was discharged, Alexander sat by my bed, peeling an apple. “Amelia, you’ve been so brave these past few days. Harper says you’re recovering very well.” I picked up a slice of apple, chewed slowly, then casually remarked, “Yes, it’s all thanks to Harper. You know, Alexander… when I chatted with Harper, she confided her dream to me. She’s always wanted to be a researcher at UCLA Medical Center. It’s one of the top obstetrics and gynecology research institutions in the world.” Alexander paused, the knife suspended above the fruit. “Really? She never mentioned it to me.” “She’s too proud, too embarrassed to ask. Because she’s Aurora’s best friend, she didn’t want you to think she was using her connections,” I sighed, my tone serious. “But she’s taken such good care of me. I’d feel so guilty if we didn’t help her. Besides, if she studies there, think of what excellent medical care she could provide Aurora when she returns.” At the mention of “taking care of Aurora,” Alexander’s interest was piqued. “You have a point,” he nodded. “The Pierce Group has sponsorship funds at UCLA. Talent shouldn’t be buried. This would be a career-changing opportunity for her.” “And it has to be soon,” I added, pressing my advantage. “I heard the program starts next week. If she misses it, she’ll have to wait a whole year.” “Alright. I’ll have my assistant arrange it right away.” Alexander was always decisive, pulling out his phone on the spot. As he dialed, I lowered my head and took another bite of the apple. Crisp. Sweet. The next morning, Dr. Harper was summoned to the hospital director’s office. Instead of an inquiry into medical malpractice, she was offered a prestigious, fully funded scholarship to UCLA, along with a first-class ticket departing that very afternoon. Rumor had it she nearly fainted with joy. She presumed Aurora had pulled strings with Alexander for her. She barely packed, rushing to JFK Airport to catch her flight to the West Coast. She never dreamed that this so-called “bright future” was a golden cage I had built to silence her. I needed her far away so she wouldn’t discover that Aurora didn’t want the baby to die-she wanted its heart. If Harper had stayed, she would have quickly realized her mistake. … I stayed in the hospital for three more days, refusing all visitors. Alexander sent flowers and health supplements through his assistant, which I sent back. When he called, I pretended to be very tired, telling him to focus on his work. He praised me for being “understanding.” He had no idea I was recovering from a mother’s most profound trauma. The day of my discharge, the weather was overcast. Alexander’s assistant waited promptly at the door, respectfully opening the car for me. “Madam, Mr. Pierce sent me to take you home.” “No need,” I refused calmly, turning to hail a yellow cab. In the rearview mirror, I could see the assistant’s bewildered face. The car drove towards Sycamore Estate. As we neared the entrance, I asked the driver to stop a good distance away. Through the car window, I saw an incredibly heartwarming scene. Alexander, my parents, were all doting on Aurora, showering her with affection. Aurora, dressed in an expensive white dress, pouted playfully, charming Alexander. My mother lovingly tidied her disheveled hair. The four of them stood together, like a perfect painting. And I, like an outsider who couldn’t bear the light of day, hid in a taxi, spying on everything that should have been mine. My husband. My parents. Their devotion, a river that flowed only to the impostor who lived in my stolen skin. And I had just ended an innocent life, all alone. The familiar, rending ache bloomed again in my chest. This time, I didn’t look away. I let my eyes drink in the scene, let it sear itself onto the marrow of my bones. I never forgot that these people had forfeited all mercy. Only when their laughter had dissolved into the villa did I slip inside through the side door. The villa was empty. They were probably all in the side parlor with Aurora. I went straight upstairs to the bedroom and dialed the number of the Mother Superior at St. Jude’s Abbey. “Mother Superior, it’s Amelia.” “Amelia, may God be with you,” the nun’s voice was calm and peaceful. “Mother, I wanted to ask, does the abbey still take in broken hearts?” My voice had a slight tremor. There was a long silence on the other end. “The Lord’s door is always open for you. Come, St. Jude’s Abbey is always at your service.” “Thank you.” Then, I pulled out my phone again and drafted a scheduled email. The recipient was Alexander. The attachment was a photo. A photo of that tiny, fully formed fetus, suspended in a jar of formalin. I stared at the heartbreaking picture, my finger hovering over the send button, yet unable to press it. Not yet. I would wait for the perfect moment to drag them all into hell.
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