Chapter 2

I woke up on an operating table.

The surgical lights were blindingly bright, and the sharp scent of antiseptic stung my nose.

Every tiny movement sent a jolt of agony through my body. Strangely, the sharp pain in my stomach was gone.

A terrifying thought crossed my mind. I reached down to touch my belly.

It was flat. There was nothing there.

Something inside me snapped. I froze, my mind going completely blank.

My baby...

She was eight months old. She was supposed to see the world so soon.

We were supposed to meet, but her own father had ended her life before it could begin.

Before I could even try to sit up, the door swung open.

A few doctors walked in. One looked at my chart and then at the nurse. "The patient is stable. Prepare the anesthesia for the hysterectomy."

I jolted upright, my voice cracking with horror. "What surgery did you just say?"

The lead doctor looked at me with a cold, professional indifference. "Mr. Sterling specifically requested that we remove your uterus."

Xavier...

He didn't just kill my baby. He wanted to strip away my right to ever be a mother again.

I don't know where I found the strength, but I leapt off the table and shoved past the nurses.

I burst through the doors and saw Xavier standing in the hallway. He frowned and signaled his men to grab me.

"Xavier, you monster!" I screamed, struggling against their grip. "Why are you doing this to me?"

He looked at me as if I were a piece of trash. A cruel smirk played on his lips. "I told you, Vera. You will never carry a child of mine. You aren't fit for it."

With a wave of his hand, his men dragged me back into the operating room.

I fought them, but the doctor was quick with the needle.

The world faded away, and I drifted back into a dark, dreamless sleep.

When I opened my eyes again, it was night. The hospital room was dimly lit.

A man was sitting on the sofa near my bed.

It was my brother, Vance Vaughn.

Seeing a family member made my throat tighten. Tears welled up in my eyes immediately.

"Vance..."

I sobbed, reaching out for the comfort only a brother could provide.

But Vance glared at me with pure vitriol, as if I were a stranger―or worse, an enemy.

"How can you be so disgusting, Vera?" he hissed. "Lexi told us she wouldn't press charges for the stabbing, but then you had to go and harass her in her room. She's in the ICU now because of the stress you caused."

The words hit me like a physical blow. I shook my head frantically, tears streaming down my face. "I didn't... I didn't do anything..."

"Stop lying!" he barked, cutting me off.

The hatred in his eyes cut deeper than any knife Xavier had ever used.

Vance and I had raised each other.

He was only an hour older than me, but after our parents died, he became the pillar of our home.

He dropped out of middle school and worked three jobs just to keep me in school.

I tried to quit many times to help him, but he would always get angry and scold me.

Once, I skipped class to find a job. I expected him to yell at me when he caught me.

Instead, he cried. He held my hands and apologized. "It's my fault. I failed to give you a good life. but Vera, for kids from the boonies like us, education is the only way out. You have to be the one to lead us out of these mountains."

I never forgot those words. I studied until my eyes bled and eventually got into the best university in New York.

Vance was so proud. He took the money our neighbors had scraped together and moved us out of the rural backwoods to the city.

While I studied, he worked.

Money was tight, but we were together. Life was finally looking up.

Then, tragedy struck.

Vance was involved in a horrific car accident. He needed a massive amount of money for life-saving surgery.

We had no savings. No one would lend us the astronomical amount needed for the operation.

In a state of pure desperation, I found a black-market clinic. I sold one of my kidneys.

I took that blood money and paid for his surgery. It was the only reason he survived.

The operation was a success, and Vance woke up soon after.

I never told him where the money came from. I never mentioned the scar on my side.

I told him it was a school-wide fundraiser and that we didn't have to pay it back.