He Stole My Womb, Lost All

My fiancé, Kayson Alexander, was my protector, a man whose fury had avenged our lost child. I believed his every word, every tender touch, convinced I was the center of his universe. Then, the night before our wedding, I heard him plotting with his ex-wife, her pregnant belly a sickening symbol of his ultimate betrayal.

I was set to marry Kayson, a powerful CEO, seeing him as my devoted savior. He'd waged war against his ex-wife, Camille, after she caused me to lose our baby, making me feel cherished. Our lavish wedding was hours away, the culmination of a love I thought was unbreakable.

But then, whispers from Kayson's study shattered my world. I heard his voice, tender and intimate, with Camille-the woman he'd supposedly ruined. She was pregnant with his child, and their conversation laid bare his elaborate deception: his "revenge" a cruel charade, and me, merely a "replacement" for business.

The shock ripped through me. Kayson, the man I loved, had known my injuries made carrying a child nearly impossible, yet he'd let me hope while building a future with Camille and their baby. He even suggested I raise their child, expecting my gratitude.

My love curdled into cold rage. The man who'd avenged my phantom child now gaslighted me for not accepting his "generous" offer. The audacity of his betrayal, left me reeling, a hollow ache where my heart had been, replaced by an icy resolve.

Leaving the study, the remnants of my perfect future lay shattered. A long-buried instinct resurfaced-a name from a past I'd tried to escape. My fingers, steady now, dialed a number I hadn't touched in years, a silent promise to reclaim my life and make Kayson pay.

Eliza Pace POV

The day I lost our child began with a confrontation. My fiancé's ex-wife, Camille Perry, appeared at our home, her face a mask of triumph.

The pristine marble floor was cold against my cheek. The presence of two imposing figures blocked my path, their shadows swallowing the light, and I found myself on my knees as Camille loomed over me.

Her red-lacquered nails grazed my scalp as she tilted my head back. Her smile was a slash of victory. "Did you really think you could take him from me, you little tramp?"

A sharp, chilling premonition, more agonizing than any physical blow, tore through me. I gasped, a strangled cry tearing from my throat.

"Please," I begged, my voice a hoarse whisper. "Please, the baby..."

"The baby?" Camille's laughter was like shattering glass. She leaned in close, her breath hot and smelling of expensive champagne. "That little inconvenience should never have existed in the first place."

She straightened up and, with a casual flick of her wrist, struck me hard across the face. The world swam. A devastating certainty of loss washed over me, a truth that felt as tangible as the sudden, tragic bloom of color against my white dress.

The front door burst open. Kayson Alexander, my fiancé, the charismatic