When My Husband’s First Love Returned, I Ran Away with the Baby

On the day I discovered I was pregnant, my husband's first love—who also happened to be my half-sister—returned.

I excitedly opened the door to Ashton Wallace's office, ready to surprise him with a piece of good news. However, what I saw stopped me in my tracks—he was holding a delicate, tearful woman in his arms and comforting her tenderly.

Startled by the noise, the woman turned toward me with her tear-streaked face. She looked beautiful yet pitiful. Ashton's expression briefly flickered with panic and confusion when he noticed me.

I froze on the spot for a moment before managing to say, "Sorry for interrupting." Without waiting for a response, I stepped out and quietly shut the door behind me.

Leaning against the door, I gently placed a hand on my abdomen. "I'm sorry, baby. It looks like you might not have a dad, after all."

The woman I just saw was Mallory Stevens—my half-sister.

Ashton and I had been married for five years. But before our marriage, he had been Mallory's long-time boyfriend.

Our wedding was not born out of love; it was completely a coincidence.

The Wallace and Stevens families were business powerhouses in Regensburg, and many had their eyes on our assets. Hence, Ashton and Mallory's romance was a sensational topic in the industry.

However, just before their wedding, our rivals in the business world could not resist stirring up trouble. That was when they kidnapped Mallory.

As fate would have it, I was with her that day, helping her pick out her wedding dress. As a result, I was taken along with her.

The kidnappers delivered Mallory to the heir of Regensburg's mafia. Meanwhile, I was locked in a dark, tiny room without food and water for three grueling days. I didn't even manage to get a wink of sleep during that period.

When we were finally rescued, Mallory's mental state had deteriorated. Our family had no choice but to send her abroad to recover.

Then, in order to cover up the shocking scandal, the Wallace and Stevens families spent a fortune suppressing the news. The wedding proceeded as planned, with me standing in for Mallory as Ashton's bride.

While I was lost in thought, the office door suddenly opened, startling me. A rare trace of awkwardness was evident in Ashton's voice as he invited me back in.

I gripped the doorframe tightly, shaking my head. It was not just about seeing Ashton—I did not want to face Mallory either.

When I was ten years old, I was thrust into the Stevens family. The abrupt change in my identity shattered everything I had known in my first decade of life.

The Stevens family lived in a wealthy neighborhood, in a standalone two-story villa with a large garden and an outdoor swimming pool. I had only ever seen such luxury on television. At the time, I could not fathom that my father was such a wealthy man.

The housekeeper had led me to the garden, where I first