“But Sylvia has suffered enough,” Christine protested. “You arranged her kidnapping to break off her engagement with your brother so he could marry Rebecca instead. She endured three days of torture because of you! Now that she’s finally healing and carrying your child, the least you can do is look after her.”

Azazel impatiently cut her off. “Enough, Mom! I’ve already made amends by marrying her despite everyone mocking me for taking a ‘damaged woman.’ I’ve devoted three years to helping her recover. Isn’t that enough? Do you expect me to sacrifice my entire life for her?”

His voice hardened with resentment. “I’ve suffered for three years, pretending every single day. I can’t take it anymore! Living with her has been nothing but torture for me. Now fate has given me a chance to be with Rebecca again. I won’t give that up…”

I couldn’t bear to hear more. My entire body went cold. A searing pain shot through my chest as if I’d been stabbed. I stumbled back to my room, trembling uncontrollably, my face streaked with tears.

It hit me all at once—the man who died in the accident wasn’t my husband but his brother, Alaric. For three years, Azazel’s devotion and tenderness had all been an elaborate act. The person he truly loved had always been Rebecca, just like his brother.

Even worse, Azazel was the one who arranged my kidnapping, simply to clear the way for Rebecca to marry Alaric. If they didn’t want to marry me, they could have canceled the engagement honorably. Instead, they chose to destroy me.

The cruelest irony? I had mistaken my tormentor for my savior. And now I was risking my life to bear his child…