Chapter 1Bonita's POV
On my fifth wedding anniversary, I was abducted.
A month after I was rescued, I found out I was pregnant.
I explained over and over that I had never been assaulted.
But nine separate paternity tests all confirmed that the baby in my womb had no blood relation to my husband, Enoch Presley.
He underwent a vasectomy right afterward, proving through his actions that he would still love me even if the child wasn't his.
But I was crushed by overwhelming guilt. After every hypnotherapy session, I would dream of myself being raped.
Soon, I spiraled into severe depression and eventually tried to kill myself.
After the sixth failed attempt, I stumbled out of my room barefoot. When I reached the door of the study, I heard Enoch—the man who once swore he couldn't live without me—laughing and chatting casually with a friend.
"Eno, to bury Gwyneth's explicit photos from trending, you staged Bonita's abduction and even framed your own child as the abductor's. Don't you think you've gone too far? Nine fake paternity tests—aren't you afraid you'll drive Bonita to her death?"
After a few seconds of silence, Enoch sighed softly.
"Gwyn got pregnant because she helped me after I was drugged with an aphrodisiac. I owe her. Those heartless paparazzi put her explicit photos on the trending list for ten whole minutes, and she cried her eyes out. Only a bigger scandal could bury that."
His friend sounded confused.
"With your power, you could've found any story to bury the scandal. Why put Bonita through this?"
Enoch scoffed.
"That's because she's always been mean, looking down on Gwyn's background. It's only fair she tastes the pain Gwyn's been through."
"Don't worry. She's my wife. Even if word gets out, no one would dare disrespect her. It's just gossip—it won't actually hurt her. Think of it as a small punishment for how she treated Gwyn."
"Once Gwyn gives birth safely in six months, I'll send her abroad. And then I'll make it up to Bonnie and the baby properly. After all, Bonnie is the only woman I've ever loved, and our kid is the only heir to the Presley Group."
My skeletal hand drifted to my abdomen, and I laughed until tears streamed down my face.
Too bad that Enoch wouldn't have what he wanted.
This baby would never be born.
Enoch's friend hesitated before speaking up.
"What about the hypnotherapy? Shouldn't it be stopped? Every time, you feed her psychiatric meds between sessions and plant fake memories of assault to make her believe it really happened. Her mental state is already fragile. If this continues, she won't survive it."
Enoch just smiled nonchalantly.
"Stop exaggerating. I consulted professionals. Those meds won't hurt her body at all, and I get her the best nutrient supplements after every session. It's just a few nightmares. They won't kill her."
"But she's already tried to end her life six times…"
Before he could finish, Enoch cut him off impatiently.
"She's afraid I'll abandon her because of the baby, so she's pulling these stunts to make me pity her. Otherwise, how do you think I managed to save her every time?"
With that, he smiled smugly, looking certain of himself.
I stood outside the door, my blood turning to ice.
Only half an hour ago, he'd knelt beside my bed, tears in his eyes, holding me tightly while swearing that if I died, he'd kill himself too.
How could he become a stranger in the blink of an eye—dragging me straight into hell with his ruthless words?
His friend sighed.
"Eno, I still have to warn you, Gwyneth's not as innocent as she looks. You risked everything to marry Bonita back then. With her personality, if she learns the truth, she'll never forgive you."
Enoch smiled and said with absolute confidence.
"Don't worry. She'll never find out."
"Gwyn's pure, and she's devoted to me. She doesn't need marriage. All she wants is a baby to keep her company for the rest of her life. How could I deny such a small request?"
He couldn't refuse to give Gwyneth Rucker a child.
But he had no problem dumping all the pain and hurt on me and my baby.
He wasn't my salvation or the light guiding me out of the darkness.
He was a hypocrite who stabbed me in the back without hesitation.
The warmth he showed me was an illusion, as was his love.
Only the deception and pain were real.
I stared at the overlapping old and new scars on my wrists.
In no time, tears blurred my vision.
My body was broken, I'd become a paranoid schizophrenic, and the baby inside me had been branded a bastard with a criminal father. And all of this was just because Gwyneth's sex scandal had trended for ten minutes!
For the poor bursary student he believed was innocent, Enoch destroyed my entire world without a second thought.
He watched me drown in fabricated rape memories, endure the guilt and revulsion of carrying a "stranger's" child, and called it a small punishment.
I trembled all over.
An overwhelming wave of nausea rose from the pit of my stomach.
I couldn't hold it in any longer, rushing to the bathroom and retching until my body convulsed.
When Enoch rushed in, I was slumped beside the toilet, tears streaming down my face.
He swept me up in his arms in an instant, his eyes full of worry.
"Honey, did you have another nightmare?"
He crouched in front of me, his red-rimmed eyes locking onto mine as he held my hands tight.
The fear in his gaze looked so real that for a moment, I almost believed him.
"I found a new hypnotherapist. Just hold on a little longer. You'll eventually forget the painful memories."
His palm was warm, but I only felt bone-deep cold.
My dry lips parted as I whispered.
"Eno, can we stop the hypnotherapy?"
He lowered his eyes, resting a hand gently on my abdomen, his voice low and muffled.
"Come on, babe. We can't truly start over unless you forget the pain. I'll love this baby like my own."
His performance was flawless.
I wanted to laugh, but my throat tightened.
No wonder he'd undergone the vasectomy without a second thought.
It turned out he already had two babies on the way—one in my womb, one in Gwyneth's.
And I, fooled by his fake tenderness, kept drowning in guilt.
I hated myself for being "tainted," for "betraying" him.
I even hated this baby for ruining everything for me.
But the truth hit me like a brutal slap. The raw skin from scrubbing myself, the nightmares that haunted me every night, the hideous scars lining my arms… All of it had been a carefully crafted punishment he'd made for me to avenge Gwyneth.
The Enoch who once loved me with all his heart was long dead.
Seeing that I remained silent, Enoch pulled me into his arms.
"Honey, tomorrow's Mom's birthday. Let's go to her party together."
Chapter 2
I didn't want to go, but Enoch insisted, dragging me into the car, saying it'd be good for me to get out and clear my head.
This was the birthday party for Enoch's mother, Camilla Presley. To my surprise, Gwyneth showed up too.
She was wearing a brand-new Chanel haute couture dress, cinching her waist on purpose to show off her slightly rounded belly.
Camilla's eyes were glued to that belly the entire time, her joy impossible to hide.
She held Gwyneth's hand, fussing over her nonstop.
She even told the chef to stew some tonic soup and planned to feed it to Gwyneth with her own hands.
Like me, Gwyneth was also carrying a baby with an unknown father.
Before, I never understood why Camilla doted on Gwyneth so much and was so cruel to me.
But now I realized it. Camilla had probably known all along that Enoch was having an affair with Gwyneth.
The second Camilla saw me walk in, the smile vanished from her face.
Gwyneth saw this and let out an exaggerated gasp. She jumped to her feet at once, hung her head, and mumbled meekly.
"Bonita, I know I'm low-born, that I don't deserve to be here. Please don't be mad at Madam Presley or Eno. I'll leave right now."
I hadn't said a single word since I walked through the door, yet she'd already put on this act like I'd bullied her badly.
Similar things happened countless times before.
I never did a thing to her, but with a few well-chosen words, she painted me as the villain and wrapped herself up as the poor, innocent victim.
Enoch frowned.
"You're already here. Why leave? Sit down. Can't even keep out of trouble when you're pregnant."
These sentences sounded like a rebuke, but every word was laced with concern.
Gwyneth met his eyes, and the corner of her mouth curved up in a faint smile.
I suppressed the bloody taste rising in my throat and smiled.
"Must be tough, being pregnant without being married, huh? Wonder who the baby's father is."
Enoch's hand, which had been warming a spoon for me, slipped, causing a harsh, scraping sound.
Before he could speak, Camilla snorted at me coldly.
"Like you have any clue who the father of that thing in your belly is."
"Gwyn's pure and chaste. She's carrying a precious child, of course. Unlike someone else, who claims she was abducted. Who knows if you didn't throw yourself at the abductors to save your own skin?"
My face paled in an instant, and I swayed on my feet, barely able to keep my balance.
Actually, in the days after I married Enoch, Camilla treated me well enough.
But everything changed after I was abducted and found out I was pregnant.
Enoch insisted on keeping the baby.
He even got a vasectomy to prove his resolve.
His open defiance and favoritism had made Camilla so angry that she'd fallen ill. And from that day on, her attitude toward me changed completely.
"Mom!" Enoch's voice rose suddenly. "It's a happy day today. Can you stop ruining everyone's mood?"
He then lifted his hand and brushed my hair gently.
"It's okay, honey. I'm here. No one's gonna bully you or the baby."
With that, he added casually.
"You've been through those terrible things. So don't push Gwyn. She's just a young girl. She must not want it to happen to her either."
I stared at the familiar face in front of me, and yet he felt like a complete stranger.
How ridiculous.
This man, who'd always stood in front of me, shielding me from every harm, was actually the one who brought all those harms down on me in the first place.
And yet now here he was, acting like none of it was his doing, putting on this show of deep, undying love.
He fooled himself as well as me.
I set down my fork and knife, my appetite gone entirely.
"I'm going to the toilet."
As soon as I stood up, I heard Camilla's disgusted voice behind me.
"Lynda! Get the disinfectant. Scrub every inch of this house clean, three times over."
The housekeeper, Lynda Greer, grabbed a big bottle of disinfectant and sprayed it straight at me.
I stumbled back, choking on the fumes with tears coming out, and my eyes flew to Enoch instinctively, asking for help.
But he just took my hand, his face showing awkwardness.
"Honey, Mom's just upset. It's her birthday. Just bear with it."
Right after those words left his mouth, Gwyneth let out a soft cough. Then, before I could react, the warmth of his hand on mine was gone in an instant. Enoch pulled Gwyneth into his arms on pure instinct.
The man, who'd just told me to bear with it in a gentle tone, now glared at Lynda and roared.
"Are you blind?! Where the hell are you spraying that?! If anything happens to Gwyn's baby, I'll skin you alive!"
Chapter 3
Lynda wasn't the only one who turned pale with fright.
I froze where I stood too, my whole body feeling like it had been plunged into a frigid winter wasteland.
The air went deathly silent for a second.
Enoch finally realized he'd lost his cool. He let go of Gwyneth in a panic and reached for me.
"Bonnie, it's not what you think…"
I avoided his touch on instinct, spun around, and ran out the door.
Enoch didn't chase after me, but I didn't go far either. I just stopped a short distance from the door.
With me gone, the sound of laughter and chatter filled the room.
"Gwyn's belly is nice and pointy. It's definitely a boy."
"I had a cross necklace made for the baby. Gwyn, take it. It's for my first grandson."
"Eno, a tainted woman like that is no good for you. Girls as pure and kind as Gwyn are hard to come by. You have to cherish her."
"Have more kids while you're still young."
Enoch's voice was laced with a smile as he replied.
"I know, Mom. I'll make sure your wish comes true."
Gwyneth chimed in softly.
"As long as Eno's willing, Madam Presley, I'll have as many children as you want."
"Why still call me Madam Presley? Just call me Camilla."
"Okay, Camilla."
Laughter erupted inside.
I leaned my back against the cold wall, my heart feeling like it was being torn open raw.
Enoch got a vasectomy?
No, it was just another lie.
At that moment, the last flicker of warmth in my chest snuffed out completely.
I wiped my face, pulled out my phone, and dialed a number.
After I got home alone, I started packing my things.
But it wasn't long before the door was slammed open, and a brute force dragged me out roughly.
I barely steadied myself when I met Enoch's bloodshot eyes.
"Bonita, you're the one who's tainted. Why do you have to drag Gwyn down with you? When did you become so vicious?"
I frowned.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
Gwyneth stood to the side, tear streaks still on her face. She pointed at the phone on the coffee table, sobbing.
"Bonita, why are you smearing my name online? Why did you say that when I was abducted, I stripped on purpose to seduce the abductors because I was scared they'd kill me? And that I'm carrying a bastard?"
"This baby of mine is innocent. It's the fruit of love between me and his father. How could you slander me like this?"
She collapsed into Enoch's arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
I stared at her fake, cloying act and laughed in bitter exasperation.
"Gwyneth, why the hell would I slander you? How long are you going to keep playing these cheap framing games?"
"Of course you have your reasons," Enoch cut me off in a cold voice, his eyes filled with disappointment.
"You're the one who begged for your life by stripping and seducing the abductors. And you just hate that there are pure, innocent girls out there who aren't like you!"
"I even accepted that you're carrying a bastard. Haven't I been good enough to you? Why can't you just leave Gwyn alone?"
"If I'd known you were such a vicious, promiscuous woman, I never would have married you in the first place."
I froze, stunned completely by his words.
Enoch's look of revulsion and the faint, triumphant curve of Gwyneth's lips were like knives, stabbing straight into my heart.
Look, this was the man I'd loved for five years.
I laughed so hard that tears streamed down my face.
Enoch seemed to be triggered by my expression. He grabbed me by the arm and dragged me into the dim, dark basement.
"Reflect on what you've done here. I won't let you out until you admit your mistake."
"No! Enoch, I'll die in here!"
Unfortunately, the only answer I got was the cold thud of the door slamming shut.
Years ago, in an earthquake, my parents shielded me underneath them.
I'd sat in the dark, watching them take their last breaths, watching their bodies turn cold and start to rot.
I'd had severe claustrophobia ever since.
Once, I was trapped in an elevator for ten minutes, and Enoch couldn't wait for the rescuers to arrive. He pried open the elevator doors at the risk of his life and pulled me, who was trembling terribly, into his arms.
"Babe, it's okay now. I'm here. I'll never let you be trapped in the dark again."
Now, I huddled in the corner, hugging myself helplessly and despairingly, tears pouring down my face.
Not long after, the door creaked open a crack, and a bag was tossed inside.
