Nicholas Sterling woke up.

The news sent a wave of unexpected joy through Isabella Sheffield as she gently cradled her eight-months-pregnant belly. Nicholas was her husband.

Two years ago, an accident had left Nicholas in a coma. In hopes of reviving his spirits, the Sterling patriarch arranged for Isabella to marry into the family.

Their child was conceived through in vitro fertilization. From their marriage to her pregnancy, Nicholas had been entirely unaware of any of it.

She wondered, how would he react when he saw her?

With a mixture of anticipation and anxiety, Isabella made her way to the hospital.

Just as she reached the slightly ajar door of his hospital room, she froze. Inside, another woman sat beside Nicholas, gently feeding him water. They were close intimate.

"Nicholas, are you really going to marry me? What about your wife?" the woman asked softly.

Nicholas’s voice was deep, void of emotion. "I'll divorce her."

"But she's carrying your child. If you leave her now, what about the baby?" The woman Charlotte Monroe bit her lip, her tone laced with feigned concern.

Disgust flashed in Nicholas’s eyes. "That child? I don’t want it. Anything conceived while I was unconscious should never have existed."

Isabella felt her world crack apart.

It was as if a dagger had been plunged into her chest, the cold wind howling through the gaping wound left behind.

Divorce. He wanted a divorce. And he didn’t even want their child.

Nicholas Sterling had been her college senior, the man she had secretly loved for four years.

When she heard he had fallen into a coma, she had agreed to marry him without hesitation.

For two years, she had taken care of him with unwavering devotion. Even while he lay unresponsive, she endured the painful injections required for IVF treatments, just so she could bear his child. And now, the moment he woke up, he was in the arms of another woman.

The door creaked slightly as Isabella inadvertently pushed it open.

Both Nicholas and Charlotte turned, their gazes locking onto her stricken face. Panic gripped her, and she turned on her heel, walking away as if in a daze. Each step felt heavier than the last.

A smirk curled across Charlotte’s lips. She picked up her phone and made a call. "She’s here. Do it now."

**

Isabella wandered the city streets like a ghost, lost in the abyss of betrayal and despair. Then, out of nowhere, dizziness washed over her, followed by a sharp pain to the back of her head.

Darkness swallowed her whole.

When she regained consciousness, she was bound, trapped inside a rough burlap sack, her body weak and powerless to struggle.

Through the haze, voices murmured beyond the sack.

"Nicholas, are you sure about this?"

A familiar deep voice, laced with frost, responded, "Throw her into the ocean. Make sure she never comes back."

Isabella’s eyes shot open, blood draining from her face.

She knew those voices. One belonged to Charlotte. The other...

It was Nicholas.

She had loved him for so many years. But in the end, she realized—she had never truly known this man.

Just because she held the title of Mrs. Sterling, he had decided she needed to disappear.

He was truly ruthless.

"She’s pregnant. A divorce might be complicated. But if she’s dead, it solves everything," Nicholas said coldly.

A second later, a sharp, agonizing pain shot through Isabella’s abdomen as he kicked her through the fabric of the sack, his foot pressing down without mercy.

Tears blurred her vision.

Then, her body was hoisted into the air.

"Time to die."

The next moment, she was hurled into the freezing, raging sea.

Icy water closed in around her, dragging her down. Salt burned her throat, her lungs screaming for air. As her consciousness faded, a memory surfaced—Nicholas, years ago, delivering a speech on stage. The wind ruffled his crisp white shirt, a hint of youthful charm still lingering in his sharp features.

Her heart clenched with sorrow and fury.

"Nicholas Sterling, even if I become a ghost, I will never forgive you!"

**

On the shore, a man and a woman stood watching the waves consume her.

The man looked young; his voice eerily similar to Nicholas’s. "Miss Monroe, it’s done. Let’s go."

Charlotte smirked, satisfaction gleaming in her eyes.

The man beside her was no more than a voice actor she had hired to play Nicholas.

She wanted Isabella to die believing Nicholas had been the one to betray her.

**

Two hours later, at the Sterling estate.

The housekeeper rushed into the study, his face pale. "Sir, something terrible has happened."

The old master of the Sterling family narrowed his eyes. "What is it?"

"The young mistress… she jumped into the sea. There's no sign of her."

The old man staggered back, his breath hitching. "What?!"

She was still carrying his grandchild!

"We’ve deployed a search team, but the chances of survival are slim," the housekeeper murmured.

"Find her. Dead or alive, bring her back!" The patriarch clutched his chest, his heart seizing with grief.

A flicker of surprise passed over Nicholas’s face.

The Sterling family’s diving team combed the ocean day and night for a full month.

No body was ever found.

When the news reached Nicholas, his expression remained unreadable.

Charlotte sat beside him, peeling an apple. "Nicholas, don’t blame yourself. She only married you for money. When she heard you wanted a divorce, she probably staged this to manipulate you. She just didn’t expect things to take a tragic turn. It’s fate."

Nicholas rubbed his temple, his jaw tightening. "Don’t speak of this again."

Charlotte flinched at the sudden sharpness in his voice.

For the first time, he sounded dangerous even to her.

But none of that mattered. In the end, Isabella was dead.

And soon enough, she Charlotte Monroe would become the new Mrs. Sterling.

**

Three months later.

In a small clinic on the outskirts of town, Isabella sat in bed, tears streaming down her face as she gazed at the three tiny babies nestled beside her.

Against all odds, she had survived.

Saved at the brink of death by her best friend, Natalie Clarke, she had been hiding ever since, too afraid Nicholas might discover she was alive.

"Isa, we need to leave this city," Natalie urged. "The Sterling’s are powerful. If Nicholas really wants you dead, we won’t stand a chance."

A storm of hatred burned in Isabella’s eyes. "But what about Declan?"

During childbirth, complications had arisen. Declan, the eldest of her triplets was weak, suffering from congenital leukemia. He wouldn’t survive long without proper treatment.

She couldn’t take him with her. But leaving him behind...

It shattered her heart.

Natalie hesitated before saying, "I can take him to the Sterling’s. He’s, their blood. Surely, they won’t be cruel enough to let him die."

Isabella shook her head violently, her heart breaking all over again.