Chapter 1
Vincent Shaw was walking toward me, holding the test results, his face beaming with excitement.
"Honey, the embryo implanted successfully. We're finally having a baby!"
Looking at the young, handsome face dripping with lies, I felt ice-cold, as if I'd been pulled from a freezer.
Vincent's hands gripped my shoulders so hard they nearly crushed my bones. His eyes were red, performing the role of an overjoyed father-to-be.
"Eve, did you hear what the doctor said? It worked! We're having a baby!"
His voice trembled. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his warm breath brushing my skin. All it made me feel was nauseous.
In my past life, I'd endured six months of hormone injections to conceive this child.
My thighs and stomach were covered in needle marks. The hormonal imbalance caused rapid weight gain, severe swelling, and at one point, dangerous fluid buildup that nearly killed me.
Back then, Vincent had pretended to feel guilty, claiming his low sperm motility was the reason I had to suffer. He'd promised to make it up to me.
And I'd believed him like a fool.
I thought he genuinely felt sorry for me. I thought his condition was the reason we had no choice but to do IVF.
It wasn't until I was on my deathbed that I learned the truth: the entire thing had been a carefully orchestrated scheme from the very beginning.
Vincent had no fertility issues whatsoever.
The only reason he'd insisted on IVF was to secretly swap my egg for Elena Carter’s, without anyone knowing.
Elena refused to have children for the sake of her dance career, but she still wanted a child with her own blood.
And I was the free surrogate and lifelong nanny they'd handpicked.
I looked down at the thin sheet of paper in my hands.
Intrauterine pregnancy confirmed. Embryo viable.
Growing inside me was a parasite that would feed on my blood and flesh, only to kick me aside when it was done.
In my past life, I'd given everything for this child.
I personally tutored his homework, pulled every string for his future, and stayed up night after night whenever he was sick.
And what did I get in return?
From a young age, he was inexplicably drawn to Elena. By the time he was ten, he'd asked her to be his godmother, all on his own.
He complained that I smelled like the kitchen, that I wasn't as elegant or refined as Elena.
He treasured every gift Elena gave him but tossed the sweater I'd knitted by hand straight into the trash.
At the time, I chalked it up to a rebellious phase. I even blamed myself for not being stylish enough.
Now I understood. It was blood calling to blood. A bond between biological mother and son.
A free nanny like me was never going to matter to him.
I took a deep breath and squeezed the test results until the paper crumpled and my knuckles turned white.
Vincent. Elena. And this unborn parasite.
In this life, I would never be their stepping stone again.
"Eve, let me drive you home to rest, okay? Something came up at the office." He held up his buzzing phone.
"It's fine. Go ahead, I'll call a car. Work comes first."
I patted his hand reassuringly.
That call had nothing to do with work. It was from Elena.
"My wife's always so thoughtful. I'll head out then. I'll bring home that roast chicken you love for dinner."
Watching him hurry away, barely able to contain his eagerness, I let out a cold laugh.
I pulled out my phone and found the contact for Ryan Morgan, a college classmate.
He now ran a fairly large private investigation firm in Suncrest City.
I gripped my phone, my voice cold as ice. "Hey, old friend. I need you to look into someone for me."
