Chapter 3
Elena's POV
Jason saw the silence in my eyes and a flicker of irritation crossed his face.
"Stop making a scene. Your parents had an arranged marriage too, and they each did their own thing. You don't need to stand here pretending to be hurt."
My fists clenched. I clenched my jaw so hard my teeth ached, glaring at him through burning eyes.
He knew this was my deepest wound—and he'd ripped it open without hesitation.
Part of the reason I'd defied my father and chosen a vampire was because I truly believed in their nature.
Vampires were loyal to their mates—forever.
I had desperately wanted that kind of marriage, that kind of love. I'd believed that one day, Jason would feel the same.
But I was wrong.
He'd married me under duress, and all he wanted was a hybrid heir.
Every way I'd tried to please him only made him despise me more—a clingy woman who couldn't even produce a child.
To disgust me and make me give up sooner, he'd never even bothered finding a steady companion. Instead, he brought a different woman home every time.
He would never love me. Maybe he was loyal by nature—just not to me. That was why he resented me so deeply.
I finally saw it clearly. It was time to let go.
Jason noticed the shift in my eyes—the absence of any warmth or longing—and something in his expression faltered.
It was the first time I'd ever looked at him without love.
"Shut up!"
I lost control, lunging forward to slap him across the face.
But as a human, I had no chance against a vampire's speed and strength.
Jessica rushed in front of Jason, making a show of taking the hit for him—eyes closed, head bowed. But her hands were already braced, and she shoved me sideways with hidden force.
I slammed into the wall and crumpled to the floor, clutching my abdomen. The pain was blinding, and for a long time, I couldn't catch my breath.
Jason caught the scent of blood. Something seemed to register, and he moved to help me up.
But Jessica was already clinging to his arm.
"Jason, my face hurts so much. Look—is it swelling?"
That suffocating perfume flooded his senses again, overriding every instinct, making him dismiss the blood pooling beneath me. He turned to stroke Jessica's flawless cheek with tender concern.
"Don't get blood on my floor. Clean it up yourself."
"We should call a doctor, though. We wouldn't want Mrs. Valerie dying here, would we, Jason?"
She called his name in that helpless little voice, pretending to be frightened.
But I saw what she did when his back was turned—the way she raised her brows at me, her smile sharp and venomous.
She mouthed something. Then her eyes cut to my stomach with unmistakable malice.
"Go die with your baby."
They disappeared from sight. The door slammed shut.
In my last moment of consciousness, I felt it clearly—the child was gone.
The last reason holding me back from leaving this place had vanished.
In the darkness, I saw the ball again.
The night I first met Jason. The crowded room, the grand feast—and I couldn't take my eyes off that boy across the hall.
I had told my father: I would never regret this. I wanted to marry the man I loved.
I said I refused to have a marriage like his and my mother's.
All of it had been my mistake.
Chapter 4
Elena's POV
I woke to a bone-deep cold.
The air held a faint metallic tang. The room was empty—not a single lamp had been turned on for me.
I stared at the white ceiling for a long time before it sank in that I was still alive.
Beneath me, a patch of blood had already gone cold, sticky and nauseating.
I closed my eyes. My chest felt sealed shut, but I had no tears left.
He hadn't even called a doctor.
It took everything I had to pull myself upright using the edge of the bed. My body felt hollowed out—as if everything inside me had been emptied.
I braced myself against the frozen wall and inched forward, every step like walking on nothing. My vision went black in waves, my legs barely holding, yet I kept moving down the long corridor.
I reached the stairwell—and through a half-open door, I heard their voices.
The door wasn't fully closed. Warm golden light spilled through the crack, painfully bright.
Jason's laugh was easy and indulgent—a mocking contrast to the coldness from before.
His voice was low, carrying the kind of tenderness I had spent years hoping to hear.
"Stop fussing. You'll bump the baby."
Jessica giggled, her voice soft and syrupy, layered with rehearsed dependence.
"Were you spacing out earlier? I thought you were worried about her."
Jason paused—just for a heartbeat. I held my breath.
"No."
His tone was as flat as if he were discussing the weather.
Jessica let out a small hum, sounding relieved.
"Good. I wouldn't want her dying here. That'd just be bad luck."
She paused, then laughed lightly, deliberately casual.
"But she did lose a lot of blood. You really aren't worried something might happen?"
Jason sounded almost bored. "I have a bond contract with her. It strengthens her body. She'll be fine."
He said it without a trace of emotion, like he was addressing something that barely concerned him.
A beat of silence. Then the rustle of fabric. A breath drawn close.
Jessica leaned into him, her voice dropping to a murmur. "You're too soft, you know. If it were me, I'd have kicked that barren woman out a long time ago."
Jason didn't answer. But I heard him laugh—quiet and low.
That one laugh said more than any words could.
He didn't deny it.
In that moment, the world went still.
My heart went quiet.
No anger. No grief. No urge to confront them.
I just stood there, listened to every last word, and turned away.
I walked down the stairs, one step at a time—slow, shaking with pain, but utterly certain.
It was over.
I was done with him.
Chapter 5
Elena's POV
The hospital lights were blinding—so white they hurt to look at.
I sat on a bench in the corridor, held upright by willpower alone.
The nurse froze when she saw me, her eyes dropping to the blood on my clothes.
"Do you... need help?" Her voice was cautious, startled.
I nodded, barely audible.
"I had a miscarriage. I need a doctor."
I lay there staring at the ceiling, waiting for an answer I already knew.
The doctor's brow creased as she reviewed the results, her expression turning grave.
"The baby is gone," she said gently. "The fetus had hybrid blood, but you bled for too long. It was past the point of intervention."
I nodded. No surprise. Just a hollow emptiness, as though everything inside me had been scraped out.
The child that should have been mine was gone—without any chance to fight for it.
The doctor studied me for a moment, seeming to recognize who I was. Something complicated flickered in her eyes.
"You're... Mrs. Valerie, aren't you? I've seen you before."
I didn't deny it, though the name felt strangely foreign now.
She hesitated before asking, "Should we notify your husband? In situations like this, we typically need a family member present."
I was quiet for a few seconds, as though confirming something with myself. Then I shook my head.
"Don't tell him. He doesn't need to know."
The doctor looked at me, didn't push further, and let out a quiet sigh.
It was already dark when I stepped outside. The night wind was cold against my face, but for the first time, it made me feel awake.
I flagged down a cab. As the door closed behind me, I finally felt a faint wave of relief—like breaking the surface after being held underwater.
The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror.
"Where to, miss?"
"The airport."
The car pulled away. City lights slid past the window, one by one.
Then my phone rang, the screen glowing in the dark.
I looked at the caller ID, hesitated a moment, and answered.
The voice on the other end was steady, as always—measured, commanding.
"Still there? How did things turn out?"
I murmured a response, my voice so low it seemed to come from far away.
"I'm almost at the airport."
A brief silence. He was reading my tone.
"And the result?" His voice was calm, but the edge beneath it left no room to deflect.
I watched the lights drift past the window. For a long time, I said nothing.
The car stopped at a red light. The whole street went quiet.
And then I said it.
"I lost."
The other end stayed silent, just listening.
I gripped the phone, my fingertips turning white, but I didn't waver.
Ten years ago, my father—as the head of our family—had entrusted me, his eldest daughter, with a critical mission: marry his key partner's son and carry on the legacy.
I'd turned him down. That was my mistake.
"Ten years. I didn't make him love me. I didn't make him faithful."
"This marriage, this bet—I lost everything. And the baby was gone."
I paused. My throat tightened, but I forced the words out.
"Dad, I have no reason to stay."
"I'll divorce Jason and marry the man you chose."
The car started moving again. The lights resumed their flow.
A few seconds of silence. Then I heard my father's voice—the steel-and-ice voice of a business titan, edged with a quiet fury.
"I'll back you up."
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