Chapter 3
The funeral was a blur of black dresses and whispered condolences. I stood at the graveside, clutching a single white rose as they lowered my mother's casket into the ground. Nikolai had barely attended, claiming a business emergency that required his immediate attention. Sage hadn't come at all.
"She was a wonderful woman," Dr. Chen said, appearing at my side as the crowd dispersed. His eyes darted nervously around the cemetery. "Mrs. Harris, I—"
"Save it," I cut him off, my voice hollow. "Your conscience is a little late."
I waited until the last mourner had left before making my way back to the Harris estate. The house loomed before me, cold and imposing. I found Nikolai in his study, nursing a glass of scotch as he reviewed documents on his desk.
"You missed the funeral," I said from the doorway.
He didn't look up. "I had commitments."
I stepped inside, closing the door behind me. "Commitments that were more important than laying my mother to rest?"
Finally, he raised his eyes to mine. "What do you want, Adeline?"
Without a word, I pulled out my phone and pressed play on a recording I'd obtained from a sympathetic nurse.
"—the money has been transferred to your offshore account," Nikolai's voice filled the room.
Dr. Chen's reply followed: "The procedure will begin in an hour."
I watched Nikolai's face as he listened to his own voice damning himself. No shock registered—only a slight tightening around his eyes.
"You bought my mother's kidney," I said when the recording ended. "You let her die so your mistress's brother could live."
Nikolai set down his glass with deliberate care. "Sage and Orion saved my life, Adeline. They deserve whatever I can give them."
"And my mother didn't deserve to live?" My voice cracked despite my efforts to remain composed.
"Your mother was old and sick," he said coldly. "She would have died eventually. Sage and Orion are young and strong."
I stared at him, this stranger wearing my husband's face. "How can you say that?"
"Because it's true." He stood, circling his desk to face me. "You should be grateful I came back at all. Many wives wouldn't have a billionaire husband to console them after losing a parent."
---
A week passed in a haze of grief and disbelief. I moved through the house like a ghost, avoiding Nikolai and Sage whenever possible. But when Sage collapsed during breakfast one morning, clutched dramatically between contractions that weren't real, Nikolai summoned me to the library.
"The doctors say Sage can't carry the baby to term," he announced without preamble as I entered. "The stress is too much for her body."
I remained silent, watching him pace before the fireplace.
"But you," he continued, turning to face me, "you're healthy. Strong. You lost our baby, so you owe me one."
The room seemed to tilt beneath my feet. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying you'll undergo IVF to carry Sage's child." His tone left no room for discussion. "You'll be the surrogate."
"That's not possible," I whispered. "We're not even—"
"It's not about us," he cut me off. "It's about what you owe me. What you owe Sage and Orion for saving my life."
I felt the walls closing in. "And if I refuse?"
Nikolai's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Then I'll ensure you never receive a penny of your mother's estate. I'll ruin your reputation so thoroughly that no hospital will ever hire you again."
---
Two weeks later, I sat in the fertility clinic, allowing the nurse to draw blood for the preliminary tests. Nikolai had insisted on accompanying me, watching with cold satisfaction as I submitted to his demands.
"Good girl," he murmured as we left. "You're making the right choice."
I nodded meekly, playing the role of the broken wife. But inside, something hardened. Each night after Nikolai left for his office or Sage's bed, I meticulously planned my escape.
I sold my jewelry piece by piece, converting the proceeds to cash. I withdrew small amounts from my mother's savings account daily, staying below the threshold that would trigger notifications. I sewed the money into the lining of a winter coat, hidden in my closet.
"Mrs. Harris?" The clinic nurse called me back for another blood draw. "We need to check your hormone levels again."
I smiled vacantly as she inserted the needle. "Of course."
Behind my docile expression, I calculated timelines and distances. Two more weeks of treatments, then the implantation procedure. Three days of bed rest afterward—during which Nikolai would be at the Tokyo shipping conference.
Perfect timing for a disappearance.
As the nurse pressed the cotton ball to my arm, I caught sight of my reflection in the window. The woman staring back at me wasn't the devoted wife who had searched desperately for her missing husband. She was someone new—someone with nothing left to lose.
Someone who would make Nikolai Harris regret the day he thought he could own her.
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