Over the ten years of her marriage to Declan, Elise lost seven pregnancies.

This time, Elise had finally conceived again, but Declan wouldn't let her near a hospital for checkups.

"The hospital is too crowded," he said. "Something could go wrong."

To ease her fears, he even pulled strings, using his rank as brigade commander to have doctors from Boston come to their home for exams.

Elise trusted him.

But then, one day, she saw him—the man who'd told her he was off on a classified mission—carefully ushering her sister, who had been "missing" for three years, out of the maternity ward.

Her heart trembled at the scene.

Clara, cradling a sleeping infant, gazed at Declan with teary eyes.

"Deck, our baby's here at last. Ellie's suffering through all those miscarriages wasn't for nothing.

"These years you kept me hidden, allowing me to give birth right under Ellie's nose... thank you.

"I know I've let you down. I don't deserve to raise this child. All I ask is to stay near you both, to watch our baby grow—even if it means being nothing more than a servant."

Declan's face was grim, his words measured.

"You haven't been recognized all these years and have been kept in the shadows. You're the one who's been wronged.

"Ellie's my wife in name—she's got status and privilege. I made her miscarry to ensure you'd bear my firstborn. That's my promise to you. Our child will inherit everything."

Elise stood rooted to the spot.

Tears spilled before she could stop them.

The truth crashed over her like a tidal wave: Declan had orchestrated her miscarriages so Clara could give him his heir.

Every loss she'd suffered wasn't an accident.

Clara's disappearance was also a lie. Declan hadn't sent her away. He'd hidden her, shielding their affair.

"Lara!"

A familiar voice jolted Elise, her body stiffening.

She turned to see her parents, Hooper and Lucille Monroe, stepping out of a military jeep. They rushed to Clara, their eyes brimming with concern and love.

"You've been through so much," Lucille said. "Giving birth takes such a toll on a woman."

"Your face is so pale," Hooper added. "Come home with us. I've arranged for a reliable maid to look after you."

Clara's eyes shimmered with gratitude, her voice catching.

"Mom, Dad, I'm so sorry. I thought you'd disowned me for good."

Lucille's voice cracked. "Silly girl, even if you're not our flesh and blood, we raised you.

"No parent holds a grudge forever. Seeing you suffer like this—it's like a knife in my heart. You're a mother now, Clara. No more recklessness."

Clara nodded but hesitated before climbing into the jeep. "Can I really come home? Ellie will be furious if she finds out. Maybe I should go back to my rented room."

Hooper's response was resolute. "Don't worry. We've thought this through. If Ellie loses this pregnancy too, she'll never bear another child. Then your baby will be Declan's only heir. She'll have to accept it."

Lucille chimed in, "Exactly. Clara, you've paid your price. It's time for Ellie to let go.

"Come on, sweetheart, let's go home."

The family climbed into the jeep, their voices warm and united.

Elise stood alone, a solitary figure in a world that had turned its back on her.

She watched the jeep disappear into the distance, then finally broke down, crying until she almost passed out, collapsing to the ground.

She couldn't fathom why her parents would say such things. When she'd announced this pregnancy, they'd been overjoyed.

Declan had cradled her belly with red-rimmed eyes, his touch gentle and reverent.

Hooper, beaming with pride, had given bonuses to the household staff and guards.

Lucille, who rarely went to church, had started attending Sunday services, praying for her grandchild.

But now, Clara had borne Declan's child, and they were all conspiring to deceive her.

Elise felt like she and the child in her womb were nothing more than surplus, forever excluded from their hearts.

A sharp, searing pain gripped her belly, but it paled compared to the agony in her chest.

She was Hooper and Lucille's biological daughter, yet everyone rallied around Clara—the impostor who'd stolen her identity for years.

Elise was the long-lost daughter that Hooper and Lucille had found a decade ago.

Hooper was a general, so Elise had transformed her life from a poor village girl to the cherished daughter of a prominent family, with a brilliant fiancé, Declan.

She'd been elated.

But Clara, unable to accept that she wasn't their biological child, had turned her resentment on Elise, tormenting her at every turn.

The day Elise arrived at the Monroe's manor, Clara pushed her down the stairs when their parents weren't looking, leaving Elise with fifteen stitches across her forehead.

On the day the Monroes officially recognized Elise, Clara lured her to a rural village, where she narrowly escaped assault by a vile old man.

***

Over countless days, Clara tried every trick to destroy her.

But Elise survived, believing her trials were over, that happiness was finally within reach.

On her wedding day to Declan, Clara escaped from prison and drove a battered car straight at her.

Elise barely escaped death, but her legs were shattered, robbing her of her chance to dance again.

Dance was her lifeblood.

It had carried her from her village to Boston, a journey paved with sacrifice.

The ugly scars on her legs drove her to the brink of despair, tempting her to end it all.

But then, a miracle happened. She discovered she was pregnant.

The sensation of a tiny life taking root inside her filled her with uncontainable joy.

She had been so expected to have another blood-bound companion in this world.

However, that joy was short-lived.

At three months, she miscarried without warning.

As blood poured from her, Elise's heart hollowed out.

Three days later, Declan found abortion pills in Clara's room, purchased at a steep price.

Clara didn't deny it. She admitted it brazenly.

Hooper had a heart attack from the rage. Lucille wept daily. Everyone agreed Clara owed Elise an unpayable debt.

Declan, livid, nearly shot Clara on the spot.

Elise stopped him, unwilling to let him carry the weight of a life taken.

To avenge her, Declan had Clara banished to a remote village, and left her to live in obscurity forever.

Not long after, word came that Clara had vanished.

Hooper and Lucille searched tirelessly but found no trace.

Elise thought the darkness had lifted.

In the years that followed, Declan, Hooper, and Lucille seemed to revolve around her.

Declan brought home flowers, jewelry, and books—little surprises to brighten her days.

On dangerous missions, he never failed to send telegrams, no matter how late.

Hooper, a proud man, pulled strings to secure her a comfortable job.

Lucille, ever nurturing, delivered homemade treats daily.

Elise believed her suffering had finally given way to sweetness.

Now, she saw the truth: their kindness was a façade, a way to keep her from digging into Clara's crimes.

They were all preparing her to accept Declan and Clara's child.

In their hearts, Clara was the only one who mattered.

The realization was absurd, laughable, yet it tore through her, tears streaming uncontrollably.

She wanted to scream, to demand what they'd seen her as all these years.

"Mrs. Pierce..."

A guard under Declan's command approached, holding out a telegram.

"It's from Commander Pierce."

Elise took a deep breath and slowly opened the envelope.

Declan's familiar, fervent words greeted her eyes. "Ellie, how's our baby doing? I'm out here on a mission, missing you like crazy.

"I hope you and the little one are okay. I love you so much. Kisses, your husband."

His words spoke of longing, of love, sealed with a kiss.

Elise stared at the letter, a bitter laugh escaping as tears welled up.

Minutes later, she wiped her face dry and marched into the hospital without a second thought.

She scheduled an abortion.

Then, she submitted her application to CNSMD de Lyon.

"Ellie, this dance academy program is a lifelong commitment," her supervisor, Stuart Wilde, said, his voice cautious.

"If you graduate, you'll have to stay and work there. Coming back won't be easy. Are you sure about this? It's a big step, leaving everything behind."

"I'm sure," Elise replied, her voice steady.

Stuart noticed her swollen eyes and swallowed the rest of his advice.

"Once the application's approved, you'll need to fly out in ten days. Talk it over with your parents and your husband."

"I will," she said, signing the agreement without hesitation.

By the time Elise returned home, dusk had settled over the house.

The moment she opened the door, the sound of laughter spilled out from the living room.

Declan sat on the couch, cradling a sleeping infant with a tenderness she'd never seen.

This man, who once stared down the barrel of an enemy's gun without flinching, now tensed at the baby's slightest stir.

Lucille emerged from the kitchen, carrying a bowl of chicken soup, spoon-feeding Clara with care.

Clara took a few sips before wrinkling her nose, whining playfully, "Mom, it's too rich. I can't drink this."

Hooper, ever indulgent, pulled a few milk candies from his pocket, coaxing her like a child. "Come on, finish it, and you'll get a treat."

Lucille chuckled, shaking her head. "You're a grown woman, Clara. Stop acting so spoiled!"

Elise stood frozen in the doorway, her legs refusing to move.

"Ellie?" Declan's voice broke through, spotting her. He handed the baby to Clara and strode over, enveloping her in a warm embrace.

His voice brimmed with concern. "You're back late. You look pale. Is the baby giving you trouble?"

His care felt rehearsed, a perfect imitation of the devoted husband he'd played for years.

Elise didn't respond. Her gaze drifted to Clara, who sat quietly, clutching the child.

The room's warmth evaporated the moment Elise appeared.

Hooper cleared his throat awkwardly. "Lara's been through a lot, wandering out there, tangled up with some deadbeat who left her high and dry.

"She made mistakes and had a child out of wedlock. The baby's so young, and she can't manage alone. I've decided she should come back home for a while."

Lucille nodded, her tone soft but firm. "Exactly. The child is innocent. I can't bear to think of them suffering out there."

Clara stood, clutching the baby, her voice small and pleading. "Ellie, I was foolish before, hurting you like I did. Please, for Mom's and Dad's sake, let us stay."

Elise stayed silent, her eyes shifting to Declan. "Mom and Dad have spoken. What about you? What's your take?"

His gaze had been fixed on Clara and the baby the entire time, only snapping back when Elise addressed him.

"I'm with you, Ellie," he said, his voice gentle. "Whatever you decide, I'll back you."

Elise raised an eyebrow, his words ringing hollow, almost laughable.

She let out a dry chuckle. "Fine, let them stay. It's only right for the family to be together, isn't it?"

Her words eased the tension she'd brought into the room.

Hooper and Lucille exhaled in unison, relief washing over them. Lucille scooped up the baby. "Wonderful! I'll have the maids prepare a room. We can't be careless with a little one around."

Hooper stood. "I'll have Kelley whip up something light for Lara, something good for a new mother."

Declan said nothing. He handed Elise a steaming mug, patting her back gently.

It was a familiar gesture, his usual show of comfort.

Soon, delivery workers streamed in, arms full of baby supplies: toys, formula, diapers, and even an imported breast pump.

They carried carefully packed boxes, asking where to assemble the stroller.

Elise picked up a receipt that had fallen to the floor. Her eyes caught the buyer's name, and a quiet, bitter smile curved her lips.

Declan noticed her expression and quickly snatched the receipt away. "It's chaos in here with all these people coming and going. Let me take you to your room to rest."

Elise didn't ask questions.

She followed him to their bedroom, her steps heavy.

Once there, Declan tucked her in with care, pulling the blankets snug around her. After a moment, he spoke. "There's beef soup simmering in the kitchen—your favorite. I'm just going to check on it.

"Don't worry. I'll be right back."

Elise's gaze pierced through him, seeing everything. She nodded. "Go ahead. Take your time."

She watched as he left, heading straight for Clara's room, and felt... nothing.

It was clear now. His heart wasn't hers. Clinging to him seemed pointless.

Elise turned away, rising slowly from the bed. She began packing, methodically clearing out anything tied to Declan.

With each item she set aside, her heart felt lighter, unburdened.

Suddenly, the door swung open. She looked up to see Declan and Clara standing there.

Declan's eyes locked on the suitcase in her hands. "What's this? Why are you packing?"

Elise didn't answer. She closed the suitcase and asked softly, "What's wrong?"

Declan hesitated before speaking. "Your mom thinks the east room doesn't get enough light for the baby. It's not good for them."

A cry interrupted him. Lucille appeared, holding the fussing baby. "Ellie, your room gets the best sunlight, and it's spacious. The baby's things won't fit anywhere else.

"Let Lara and the baby stay here. We'll get you a new place later."

Elise looked at them—her family, standing together—and felt a desolate chill settle in her chest. Clara lingered behind Declan, her posture timid, as if Elise might lash out.

Declan leaned forward, subtly shielding Clara, as if Elise were the threat.

"No need," Elise said quietly. "It's just a room. I don't mind giving it up."

Elise didn't just agree to give up her room—she called Kelley over to help clear it out.

Kelley moved swiftly, erasing every trace of Elise's presence in no time. Clara's belongings crept in, filling the space bit by bit.

Within half an hour, a pristine nursery had taken shape, complete with every detail a baby could need.

Elise's heart twisted as she watched Clara eagerly settle in with her child. She stood at the doorway, taking in the room—carefully arranged, every corner radiating thoughtfulness.

The crib alone, shipped from overseas, must have taken weeks to arrange.

It was clear: this family had been planning this for a long time.

Elise lowered her gaze, a quiet ache settling in her chest.

She turned and slipped into the small, dim room at the far end of the house. She didn't bother unpacking; she just left her suitcase by the door.

She wasn't planning to stay long.

She'd bide her time, then leave for good, never troubling their perfect little family again.

She'd hoped for a few peaceful days before her departure, but that hope was shattered by evening.

After dinner, Clara knocked on her door. Without waiting for an answer, she stepped inside. "Ellie, thanks to your generosity, my baby and I have a place to call home. I wanted to show my gratitude, so I got you a little gift."

Elise's eyes flicked to Clara's face—still radiant, still deceptively innocent.

She instinctively stepped back. "No need. Letting you stay was their decision. Just focus on your health—it'll put their minds at ease."

Clara didn't back off. Instead, she closed the distance, her voice soft but insistent.

"Ellie, don't be scared. I've been through so much these past years, and I've truly changed. I'd never hurt you again."

Before Elise could protest, Clara pressed a beautifully wrapped box into her hands.

"Mom and Dad want us to get along," Clara said, her tone almost pleading. "I spent ages picking this out. If you reject it, they'll be heartbroken."

Elise had no choice but to take it.

She glanced down and froze. Inside was a photograph—a face she could never forget.

Years ago, that man's twisted grin had haunted her as he dragged her into an alley. She could still feel his rough hands tearing at her clothes, his heavy body pinning her down, and his foul breath lingering on her neck.

If Declan hadn't arrived in time, she might never have escaped that nightmare.

That moment had branded itself into her soul, a shadow she could never shake.

Elise's body trembled uncontrollably. She hurled the photo and box away, the movement frantic. The box struck Clara's arm.

Clara let out a sharp cry. "Ellie, please, don't..."

Footsteps thundered from upstairs.

Declan rushed in, pulling Elise back and turning to Clara with concern. "What happened? Are you okay?"

Clara's voice quivered, tears brimming. "I was so grateful Ellie let us stay, despite everything. I wanted to make things right, so I got her a gift.

"But... I guess she still hates me. She threw it at me."

Elise's lower back throbbed from where she'd hit the armrest. She gritted her teeth, struggling to stand.

"She gave me a photo of the man who attacked me years ago," she said, shaking her head.

"I was terrified and dropped it by accident. I didn't mean to hit her."

Declan's brow furrowed. "That old creep's still in prison. He's got no family, no connections. How could there be a photo of him?"

His voice sharpened. "Elise, stop making up stories!"

Tears stung Elise's eyes.

She pointed at the photo on the floor. "I'm not lying. Look for yourself."

Declan picked it up, his expression darkening after a single glance.

Elise's heart sank. Bracing herself, she took the photo from him.

It had changed.

The leering face of her attacker was gone. In its place was a kind-looking elderly man she didn't recognize.

"How..." Elise whispered, shaking her head in disbelief.

Clara's voice broke, her face a mask of hurt. "That's... my birth father's photo.

"When I found out I wasn't Mom and Dad's biological child, I was devastated.

"I wanted to track down my real parents, to ask why they abandoned me, why they swapped me with Ellie and left me to carry this guilt."

She gestured to the picture. "I had this taken after I found them.

"I must've put it in the wrong box by mistake. I never imagined Ellie would think such a thing of me..."

Her voice cracked, tears spilling over.

Declan's throat bobbed, his gaze softening with pity as he looked at Clara.

"Lara..."

Clara shook her head, wiping her tears. "I'm fine. I know Ellie's been under so much stress. Maybe she just... saw it wrong."

"That's not true!" Elise's voice trembled as she turned to Declan, Hooper, and Lucille, desperation clawing at her. "It was him, I swear. I don't know how it changed..."

"Enough!" Declan cut her off, his tone sharp.

He didn't look at her again, instead helping Clara to her feet, his voice gentle. "Let's get you back to your room to rest."

Elise stood frozen, watching their retreating figures. She caught Declan's soft words to Clara. "No more gifts. She won't appreciate them, and you'll only end up hurt."

Turning back, Elise saw Hooper and Lucille staring at her, their faces heavy with disappointment.

"Do you not believe me either, Mom? Dad?"

Hooper and Lucille said nothing, their silence heavier than words. They let out long, weary sighs.

Hooper drifted back to the living room, burying himself in a newspaper. Lucille busied herself in the kitchen, tending to a simmering pot of soup.

Elise stood rooted to the spot, suffocating in the emptiness of their dismissal.

She felt like a stranger in her own home, an afterthought in their lives.

However, she knew she should have seen it coming. This wasn't new—time and again, the same scene had played out.

No matter how cruelly Clara spoke to her, no matter how vicious her actions, all it took was a few crocodile tears and a trembling apology to their parents or Declan, and Clara walked away unscathed.

"Ellie came back, and I was terrified you'd all abandon me," Clara would whimper. "I only acted that way because I was scared."

Those words were her magic wand. With them, Hooper and Lucille never held her accountable.

When Clara slapped Elise across the face, they didn't scold her.

When Clara lured Elise to that rural village, nearly costing her everything, they didn't punish her.

When doctors told Elise her legs would never dance again, they shrugged it off as if it were trivial.

Everyone believed parents loved their children unconditionally, but Hooper and Lucille's love belonged to Clara, the daughter they raised, not Elise, their own flesh and blood.

Once, Declan had been her champion. He'd risked his military honors, demanding fairness from Hooper and Lucille.

He'd looked into her eyes and vowed to shield her, to never let her suffer again.

Elise had believed him with all her heart. But now...

Her gaze lifted to Declan, his arm protectively around Clara as he guided her away. A sharp, searing pain sliced through her chest.

The truth was undeniable: Declan's heart belonged to Clara too.

Her heart throbbed, each pulse a fresh wound.

Hooper, Lucille, and Declan—they'd all deceived her.

Clara had everything now, welcomed back into the family with open arms, her place secure.

Elise had nothing. Not even the child growing inside her was allowed to exist in their eyes.

A bitter smile tugged at her lips, cold and fleeting.

For half her life, she'd been nothing but a stepping stone for Clara's triumph.

No one in this family had ever truly seen her, not even for a moment.

Tears spilled down her cheeks, hot and unstoppable. Then, suddenly, excruciating pain gripped her abdomen. A warm gush flooded between her legs, and the world spun, her vision blurring.

She reached for the wall, desperate for support, but her strength failed, and she crumpled to the floor.

"Help! Please, save my baby!" she cried, her voice raw with panic.

Declan heard her and rushed back. When he saw the blood pooling beneath her, his face blanched with fear.

He scooped her into his arms, sprinting toward the hospital.

As Elise's consciousness began to fade, she kept praying silently. She begged the heavens not to take this child from her too, not like the last one.

It wasn't about her love for Declan anymore. It was the fierce, primal pull of motherhood, urging her to protect the life within her.

***

When her eyes fluttered open, the stark white ceiling of the hospital loomed above her. She turned her head and found Declan, his face etched with worry.

"Ellie, how are you feeling?" he asked, his voice soft, almost tender.

His concern stirred nothing in her. The warmth it once sparked had long since faded.

Her mind replayed the images that haunted her: Declan gently cradling Clara at the hospital, meticulously preparing a nursery for her and her child, and whispering careful instructions as he helped her up the stairs.

He had given Clara everything that Elise had once longed for.

Tears traced silent paths down her cheeks. She turned her face away, unable to bear his gaze.

"Ellie, I messed up," Declan said, his voice thick with remorse. "I didn't think things through, and I got you all worked up.

"The doctor says this might be our last chance to have a baby.

"Thank God, the baby's safe. If anything happened to you or the child, I wouldn't know how to go on."

He reached for her hand, careful not to disturb the IV line, his touch warm but hollow.

"I only see Lara as a sister," he continued. "Your mom and dad took her in because they felt sorry for her, raising a kid alone. Don't read too much into it.

"I've already got people looking for a place for her and the baby. Once we find something suitable, they'll move out. Please, don't be upset.

"For the baby's sake, you have to stay calm."

Hooper and Lucille nodded, their voices gentle but rehearsed. "He's right, Ellie. That baby of yours can't handle any more stress. We've been neglecting you, and we're sorry."

"The doctors say you need to stay put," Lucille added. "Rest here in the hospital, and we'll take turns looking after you with Deck."

Elise knew their words were empty, a flimsy veil of lies. But she was too drained to argue, too weary to fight.

She gave a faint nod and closed her eyes, exhaustion pulling her under.

"I'm tired. I just need to rest."

Her quiet surrender silenced them. Hooper, Lucille, and Declan exchanged uneasy glances.

A soft knock broke the stillness. Clara stepped into the room.

"Mom, Dad, Deck..." she began, her voice tentative.

Declan's brow furrowed, his tone sharp. "What are you doing here? The hospital's crawling with sick people—you could bring germs to the baby."

Clara's face softened with concern. "Ellie's here because of me. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't check on her.

"Mom, Dad, you're not getting any younger. You can't pull all-nighters.

"Go home and rest. Deck and I will take care of Ellie."

Hooper and Lucille glanced at Elise, who seemed to be asleep. Thinking of the baby back home with only a nanny, they nodded reluctantly.

As they left, the room grew still, the air heavy with quiet.

Declan turned to Clara, his voice low but firm. "Ellie's fine. You should go."

Clara's head bowed, her expression heavy with sorrow. "I'm glad she's okay. But I came today for another reason too. I need to tell you something."

She paused, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm planning to leave with the baby."

"What did you just say?" Declan blurted out the word before he could stop himself.

He turned toward the hospital bed, making sure Elise was still asleep. Seeing that she hadn't stirred, he finally exhaled.

"Clara," he said quickly, his voice low but urgent, "it's freezing outside. You barely have any money. Where could you possibly go with a baby?

"Don't you realize how much your parents worry about you? Lucille's hair has turned gray, fretting over whether you're suffering."

Clara's eyes glistened with reluctance, but she shook her head firmly. "If I stay here, Ellie will never be happy. You've already done more for me than I could ever ask. Having our child... that's enough to fill my heart. I can't keep burdening you."

Her voice broke, and tears brimmed as she bowed deeply to Declan, a gesture heavy with gratitude and sorrow.

Declan's hands tightened into fists, a pang of pity softening the rugged determination on his face.

"I'll make sure Ellie stays in the hospital to rest for now. She won't be coming home yet."

His tone left no room for argument. "You're staying home and taking care of yourself. That's final."

Clara opened her mouth to protest, but Declan gently pressed a finger to her lips, his voice dropping to a low, soothing murmur.

"This is my baby too. I won't let him wander the streets, cold and rootless."

Her resistance crumbled at his words.

She looked up, her eyes shimmering with fragile hope.

"Deck... I know your heart belongs to Ellie, but I have to ask—have you ever felt anything for me? Even just a little?"

Declan's throat tightened, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.

After a heavy silence, he spoke softly. "Yes. I've never forgotten the days we grew up together, the memories we shared."

He paused, his voice faltering. "You should go back home, Clara. It's too crowded here..."

Before he could finish, Clara surged forward, throwing herself into his arms and pressing her lips to his in a fierce, desperate kiss.

When they finally parted, her cheeks glowed with a feverish flush. "Deck, hearing you say that... It's enough to make my heart burst. I could die happy now."

Her voice trembled with raw emotion. "I know it's my fault, loving you so fiercely I couldn't let go. I've made things so hard for you."

She clung to him, her words a fervent whisper. "As long as there's even a sliver of space for me in your heart, I'd do anything for you."

Declan's gaze softened, his voice rough with feeling. "Silly girl, don't talk nonsense."

He cupped her face gently. "You and the baby will be fine. I'll make sure of it.

"I promise. My son will have everything he needs—a life full of joy, free from worry."

His hands slid to her waist, pulling her closer.

Clara let out a soft, trembling moan, then hesitated, her voice tinged with fear. "But... when Ellie's baby is born, will you turn your back on ours?"

"Never," Declan murmured, his lips trailing slow, deliberate kisses along her neck. "This is my only child. I swear it."

He paused, his breath warm against her skin. "Ellie's child... it won't see the light of day."

Clara's breath hitched, but she pressed further, her voice insistent. "The doctors said her baby is stable this time. How..."

Declan's breathing grew ragged, his words sharp and urgent. "We'll wait for the right moment. If she loses her baby so soon after you show up with our son, she'll hate you for it."

He leaned closer, his voice a dark whisper.

"Later, we'll pick the perfect moment. She'll lose the baby, and after that, she won't be able to have another. Then she'll embrace our child as her own."

Clara's arms tightened around him, her body pressing closer, desire igniting in her eyes.

Declan let out a low, teasing chuckle. "You little vixen."

The thrill of their forbidden moment, with Elise sleeping just steps away, sent a jolt of exhilaration through them, fueling their passion.

Declan's touch grew bolder, and Clara's soft gasps swelled into moans, each one more urgent than the last.

He pressed a hand over her mouth, his voice a heated growl. "Quiet, love. This isn't the place... Let's find somewhere else."

With a swift motion, he swept her into his arms and slipped into the storage room next door.

Soon, the muffled sounds of Declan's husky groans and Clara's breathless cries seeped through the walls, drifting faintly into the hospital room.

Elise lay still, her eyes closed, but her trembling lashes betrayed her. A scalding tear slipped down her cheek, carving a silent path of grief.

She had heard it all.

Their tender whispers, their calculated plan to "protect" her child—it was all a facade, a way to shield Clara from her resentment.

Everything they did was for Clara.

Her heart shattered into pieces.

She understood that an unwanted child by its family had no place in this world.

Elise wiped her tears, her resolve hardening. She pressed the call button for the nurse.

"I want to schedule an induction procedure. Now."

The nurse's eyes widened with concern. "Are you sure, Mrs. Pierce? The baby is developing well. You've had so many losses before—this could be your and Commander Pierce's only child."

"I'm sure."

As the words left her lips, tears flooded her eyes, spilling over in a torrent of anguish.

Soon, she was wheeled out of the room. Cold, unyielding instruments invaded her body, tearing away what little hope remained.

Elise felt a hollow ache in her womb, mirrored by the emptiness spreading through her heart.

She turned her head and caught a glimpse of a mangled mass of blood and tissue, discarded without a second thought into a waste bin.

That was her child.

Her thoughts drifted to the child's father and to her own parents, who had once been her world.

Elise closed her eyes, despair swallowing her whole.

As consciousness faded, a single thought pierced the darkness.

From this moment on, she and Declan Pierce were nothing to each other.

When Elise opened her eyes again, the hospital room was empty.

Her family had visited only once, right after she was admitted. Since then, it had been just the nurses tending to her, changing her bandages, and helping with her daily needs.

Not a single family member had come back.

She knew where they were—gathered around Clara and her child, basking in the glow of their new, perfect family. There was no place for her in that picture.

Not that she cared to intrude. She was leaving soon anyway.

As her discharge date approached, a nurse handed Elise a letter.

She opened it to find a note from a friend she'd met through the local dance troupe.

The words brimmed with longing and warmth, pulling at her heart.

She was about to leave Boston for good, and returning would be no easy feat. Elise decided she owed her friends a proper goodbye before she went.

On the day of her discharge, Elise packed her things and handled the paperwork alone.

After dropping her bags at home, she headed to the dance troupe's studio.

The moment she stepped into the hall, a wave of chatter and laughter hit her.

Then, a familiar voice made her heart clench.

Stepping closer, Elise froze. There was Clara, wearing the performance costume Elise had cherished before the accident, chatting animatedly with others.

Elise's eyes widened as she scanned the faces of her friends—people she'd cared for, supported, and laughed with.

They were all smiling at Clara, as if Elise were invisible.

She stood rooted to the spot, a hollow ache spreading through her chest.

Clara suddenly noticed her and called out with a warm, almost too-friendly tone. "Ellie! What are you doing here?"

Elise's lips tightened. "Why are you here? And why are you wearing my costume?"

"Oh! You're wondering about this?"

Clara's eyes sparkled as she pinched the hem of the skirt and twirled playfully in front of Elise.

"Deck was worried I'd get stir-crazy at home with the baby, so he pulled some strings to get me into the troupe."

She gestured at the costume. "This was just lying around, ready to wear."

Clara gave a sheepish smile. "I told him I didn't want special treatment, but you know Deck—he's impossible to argue with."

She glanced around the studio, her face alight with curiosity. "I had no idea the dance troupe was this much fun. No wonder you loved dancing so much."

Her gaze flicked back to Elise, her voice softening with a patronizing edge. "Since your leg won't let you dance anymore, I thought I'd carry on your dream for you."

She smoothed the skirt with a self-satisfied smile. "This costume fits me better anyway, don't you think, Ellie?"

Elise's fists clenched, her nails biting into her palms. She fought to keep her composure, but a storm of fury churned inside her.

Years ago, when she was still a baby, Clara's mother had taken her away and abandoned her by a village stream.

By some miracle, an elderly woman named Malinda Wilson had found her, raising her with tender care as if she were her own.

Malinda's only son had died in the war, leaving her alone in the world. She treated Elise like a granddaughter, pouring all her love into her.

To support Elise's dream of dancing, Malinda lived frugally, working multiple jobs to scrape together enough money for bus fare to the city.

She spent months saving for the fabric to make that dance costume, stitching it by hand under the dim glow of a single lamp, carefully crafting a soft lining for comfort.

That very costume had carried Elise to her acceptance into the Boston Ballet.

And now, Clara—the woman who had shattered her life—was wearing it, parading her stolen dreams.

Rage flared in Elise's chest. Clara had no right to that costume.

She had already stolen Elise's parents and her husband. And now, she dared to claim the last piece of Malinda's legacy.

"Take it off," Elise said, her voice low and trembling with barely contained anger. "Give it back."

Clara's eyes flickered, but she didn't move. Instead, she bit her lip, her expression shifting to one of feigned hurt. "Ellie, my fiancé is your husband now. My parents are your parents."

Her voice took on a sharp edge. "You've taken everything I ever loved. Are you really going to make a fuss over a single dress?"

Elise let out a bitter laugh, once again floored by Clara's knack for twisting the truth.

Before Elise could respond, Clara's eyes welled up, her soft sobs painting her as the victim of some great injustice.

"Enough, Elise," a colleague snapped, wrapping a protective arm around Clara's shoulders.

"You're the general's daughter now. Have you no shame, bullying an orphan like her?"

"You have already taken her parents and her fiancé, and you're still acting so high and mighty to bully her?"

Colleagues who once shared laughter and late-night rehearsals with Elise now glared at her, their eyes cold and accusing, rallying behind Clara.

Elise's face paled. "I didn't take anything. Her mother swapped us at birth—those were my parents to begin with!

"And my marriage to Declan? That was always mine!"

Before she could finish, a box came hurtling toward her.

It was her old luggage, stored here long ago. It crashed to the floor, splitting open, her belongings spilling out in a chaotic heap.

Elise looked up, stunned. A colleague shouted, "Quit talking and get your junk out of here!"

"Yeah, you're not welcome here anymore!"

Elise crouched down, her heart sinking as she saw her clothes and keepsakes, many of them slashed and ruined.

She lifted her gaze to the circle of colleagues around Clara.

They stood like a human shield, as if protecting Clara from some imagined threat Elise posed.

These were people she knew well. She'd stayed up all night helping one choreograph a routine, spent a month's savings to buy one of them a new pair of dance shoes, and pleaded with the troupe to keep another from being kicked out.

Now, they stood united against her, their eyes cold, wielding their judgment like executioners' blades.

Elise's heart plummeted to a dark, hollow place.

But she wasn't surprised. If her own parents and husband had turned their backs on her, why should she expect loyalty from these people?

Silently, Elise gathered her scattered belongings. When she was done, she stood and faced Clara.

"You can take everything else. I don't want it anymore."

Her voice was steady, but her eyes burned. "But this dance costume means something to me. You need to give it back."

Clara's eyes brimmed with crocodile tears, her voice quivering with feigned hurt. "Ellie, it's just a dress. Are you really so heartless that you'd make me strip it off right here? Do you really have no compassion at all?"

Elise almost laughed. Compassion? Between them? What a joke.

Clara had shattered her leg and stolen her husband in a web of deceit. There was no sisterly love between them—only betrayal.

She didn't bother arguing. Words were useless now. She leaned into the role of the villain they'd cast her as. "Yes," she said coldly.

"Enough!"

A sharp voice cut through the air as Declan stormed in, his long strides commanding the room. He planted himself in front of Clara, a towering guardian.

"Elise, it's just a dance costume. If you want one so badly, I can buy you a dozen."

His eyes blazed with indignation. "But to demand Clara take it off in front of everyone? That's beyond cruel!"

Elise's throat tightened, a sour ache rising within her.

She'd once danced for Declan in that very costume.

He knew what it meant to her. Yet he'd handed it to Clara without a second thought.

No, it was worse than that.

Her place as the troupe's lead, her dreams, everything Clara had destroyed—Declan had given it all to her.

The realization choked her, leaving her speechless.

It hit her then that the man before her was no longer the one who used to hold her close, whispering promises of love and protection.

She forced out a trembling reply. "I'm just taking back what's mine.

"I left the troupe, and she took my spot. I lost my costume, and she's wearing that."

Her voice cracked with bitter irony. "Why does everything that's mine have to become hers?"

Declan met her gaze, and for a fleeting moment, something like guilt flickered in his eyes. But it vanished as he frowned.

"The doctors said your pregnancy is unstable. You're supposed to be on bed rest. Why are you here stirring up trouble?

"Do you have to upset everyone like this?"

He didn't know that their child was already gone, discarded in a hospital waste bin.

Elise's face was a mask of calm, her voice flat. "The doctor cleared me to go home last Monday."

No one had cared enough to notice.

Declan froze, his mouth opening, then closing, caught in awkward silence.

Before he could respond, Clara let out a sharp cry. "Ouch! There's something sharp in the dress!"

A colleague rushed over, pulling a blood-streaked needle from the fabric at Clara's waist.

Declan snatched it, his eyes blazing as he turned on Elise.

"What is this?"

Elise didn't flinch. "I don't know. Ask her."

Declan's jaw tightened, his voice low and dangerous. "The evidence is right here, and you still deny it?

"You're jealous of Clara joining the troupe, so you resort to petty tricks like this."

He stepped closer, his tone sharp. "Apologize to Clara. I'll let this slide if you do."

Elise shook her head, her face pale but resolute. "I didn't do anything wrong. I'm not apologizing."

The colleagues erupted, their voices piling on. "Commander Pierce, when you weren't here, Elise was bullying Clara nonstop."

"She didn't just demand the dress—she bragged that your marriage and your parents were hers and told Clara to know her place!"

"She even called Clara a tramp!"

"Does being the general's daughter give her the right to throw her weight around?"

Declan's brow furrowed as he absorbed their words. The warmth in his gaze faded, replaced by a cold ember of disappointment.

"Elise, you used to be kind and gentle. What's happened to you?"

Elise stood silent, the weight of their baseless accusations crushing her. She had no fight left to argue.

Had she changed? No. It was Declan who'd changed.

"Think what you want, Declan."

Her voice was steady, resigned. "No matter what I say, you won't believe me anyway."

Declan stared at Elise, his gaze unyielding.

Elise met his eyes without flinching, her own stare steady and defiant.

In the tense silence, Clara's choked sob broke the standoff. She clutched Declan's sleeve, her voice quivering.

"Deck, please don't fight with Ellie over me.

"It's just a dress she wants. It's my fault. I thought it looked pretty, so I tried it on.

"I didn't know it would upset her this much. I'll go change right now."

Under Declan's tender, protective gaze, Clara slipped into the changing room.

When she returned, she handed the dance costume to Elise.

Elise took it, her fingers brushing the fabric, only to find a gaping tear at the hem.

The delicate embroidered flowers, once vibrant, were ruined, split down the middle.

Elise, who had held herself together until now, felt her eyes burn with tears. "You did this on purpose."

Clara's face was a mask of innocence, her head shaking vigorously.

"I don't know what happened, Ellie. I swear I didn't do anything. The dress is yours now—what more do you want?"

Declan's brow furrowed as he stepped in front of Clara, shielding her.

"Elise, how long are you going to keep this up?

"Lara gave you the dress back. Isn't that enough?"

Elise's fingers traced the torn hem, the lifelike flowers stitched with care.

Those stitches were Malinda's, crafted through sleepless nights, each thread a labor of love.

When Malinda passed away, Elise had been in the middle of her audition and never made it back in time to say goodbye.

Now, even this last keepsake was gone.

Elise clutched the dress tightly, her knuckles whitening.

Declan instinctively moved to stand between her and Clara.

Elise's eyes flickered with disappointment, her heart turning to ash.

Seeing them so close, she swallowed her words and walked away.

Back home, Elise sat alone, painstakingly mending the torn costume.

Malinda's warm voice echoed in her mind, soft and comforting.

She pressed the dress to her cheek, whispering, "Grandma, I miss you so much.

"Life without you... It's been so hard.

Memories of her seven lost pregnancies and the betrayal of her parents and husband surged forward.

The dam of her suppressed emotions finally broke.

Elise's sobs erupted, loud and unrestrained.

Suddenly, the door burst open with a violent kick.

Declan and Clara stormed into her room, their faces twisted with fury.

"Where's the baby?" Declan demanded, his voice thunderous.

Elise looked up, tears still glistening at the corners of her eyes.

"What are you talking about? I don't know!"

Declan's gaze burned with something close to hatred.

"Don't play dumb. You're the only one with a grudge against Lara. No one else would be cruel enough to hurt a baby!"

Clara's eyes were red and swollen, her voice breaking as she pleaded. "Ellie, I know I'm in your way, and that's my fault.

"But the baby's innocent! He's just a child, clueless about the world.

"He's only guilty of being born to me. Please, let him go!

"I'm begging you, Ellie, I'm begging!"

Elise shook her head, desperate to explain. "The baby's always been with the nanny. I've never even touched him!"

Clara's face was streaked with tears, her voice a mournful wail.

"Ellie, please, he's my whole world!

"If you give him back, I'll pack my bags and leave. I'll never bother your family again."

Elise was at a loss, words failing her under their accusations.

Declan, impatient, kicked her luggage aside and began rifling through it.

"Declan, what are you doing?"

In moments, the room was a chaotic mess, her belongings strewn everywhere.

He pulled a trophy from an old tin box.

It was Elise's first dance competition award, a symbol of her triumph.

"Elise, I'm asking you one last time—where's the baby?

"If you don't tell me, I'll smash it!"

Elise lunged for the trophy, but Declan shoved her back.

She cried out, her voice breaking. "It wasn't me! Give it back!"

Declan raised the trophy and slammed it to the floor.

Elise reached out, but it was too late.

The trophy shattered with a sickening crash.

She scrambled to gather the pieces, her voice choked with sobs. "Declan, is this how you protect me?"

Declan faltered, his anger dimming for a moment. But he pressed on. "If it wasn't you, then who?"

Before he could say more, a child's laughter rang out from the hallway.

Declan froze, turning toward the sound.

The nanny was climbing the stairs, cradling the baby in her arms.

"Why is the baby with you?" Declan asked, bewildered.

The nanny glanced at Clara, puzzled. "This morning, Ms. Clara told me to take him out for some fresh air tonight."

***

Clara, rushing out, scooped the baby into her arms.

Her face lit up with relief. "Yes, I asked Kelley to take him for a walk. I forgot."

"When I didn't see him tonight, I panicked and jumped to conclusions. Ellie, don't hold it against me..."

Elise ignored her, silently picking up the shards of her trophy.

Declan exchanged a glance with Clara. He stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on Elise's shoulder.

His voice softened. "We misjudged you this time. The baby's a child—losing him is a big deal."

Elise shrugged off his touch, saying nothing.

Declan's face hardened; his pride was stung. "If you hadn't been at odds with Lara, would we have suspected you?

"It's just a trophy. I'll have someone make you an exact replica.

"You've got a baby to think about now. Don't get worked up."

Elise finished gathering the fragments, stood, and looked at him with icy calm. "Anything else? If not, please leave my room."

Declan and Clara walked out in silence, watching as Elise shut the door behind them.

The atmosphere at dinner was thick with tension.

Hooper and Lucille cast reproachful glances at Elise, their eyes heavy with blame for the evening's fiasco.

Elise knew they resented her for being petty, for making Clara so upset she could barely touch her food.

Hooper shot Lucille a pointed look.

She nodded, forcing a smile as she spooned food onto Elise's plate.

"Ellie, try this. It's delicious."

Elise didn't move. "Mom, I'm allergic to peanuts."

Lucille's face flushed with embarrassment, and she quickly pivoted. "Oh, then have some of this fish. It's good for you."

Elise stared at the plate. "Mom, you know I can't handle spicy food. Did you forget?"

Lucille pulled the dish back, and a heavy silence settled over the table.

Hooper finally snapped, slamming his fork down with a sigh. "Ellie, you're going too far.

"Your mother's trying to care for you, and you're disrespecting her like this?"

Elise shook her head, her voice calm but firm. "I'm just allergic. Should I force it down and suffer to prove I'm not 'going too far'?"

Her measured words only fueled Hooper's irritation.

"That's enough, Elise! Where are your manners? Is this how you speak to your elders?

"Don't think I don't see what's going on. You're sulking because Deck and Lara misunderstood you.

"Ever since Lara came into this family, you've been cold to her, giving her dirty looks.

"We've put up with your attitude, but this? What are you trying to prove?

"Are you determined to look down on everyone?"

Elise set her fork down. "I'm done eating. I'm going to my room."

Declan's voice cut through, sharp and cold. "Elise, your parents are trying to reason with you, giving you a chance to make this right, and this is how you act?

"Sit down, eat properly, and stop being so dramatic.

"I know we wrongly accused you, but we've apologized."

Elise took a deep breath, her eyes flicking between Hooper and Lucille. "If I eat what you put on my plate, can I go to my room?"

They said nothing, so Elise, ignoring her allergies, shoveled the food into her mouth.

She swallowed without chewing, her throat tightening.

The allergic reaction hit fast—red, angry rashes bloomed across her face.

Hooper and Lucille reached out to stop her, but it was too late.

When she finished, Elise didn't spare them a glance. She walked back to her room.

In her heart, she reassured herself: just two more days, and she'd be gone.

Two more days, and she'd leave this place forever, never to return.

Her body itched and burned, but she told herself that sleep might dull the pain.

Elise crawled into bed early, only to be jolted awake in the middle of the night by searing agony.

Her skin prickled and stung, but she didn't cry out. She knew no one would come to help.

Gritting her teeth, she dragged herself out of bed to buy medicine.

But barely a hundred feet from the house, a heavy blow struck the back of her head.

***

When Elise came to, panic surged through her. She was bound and suspended in the air.

Glancing to her side, she saw Clara, similarly tied, dangling beside her.

In the shadows stood a figure, vaguely familiar but shrouded in darkness.

Mustering her courage, Elise called out. "Who are you? What do you want?

"If it's money, name your price. My husband's a brigade commander, and my father's a general.

"Lay a hand on us, and you'll regret it!"

The figure stepped forward, revealing a face.

A look at that man sent ice through her veins.

It was Blair Diaz—the lecherous old man who'd nearly assaulted her years ago.

"Well, well, Ms. Elise. Long time no see.

"Clara promised me a wife back then. You were in my grasp, but Declan had me locked up for over a decade.

"Now I'm out, and it's time to settle the score."

Elise clenched her jaw. "You got what you deserved!"

"I'm warning you—let us go, and I won't press charges. But if you don't, you'll rot in prison for more than just a few years!"

Blair didn't flinch. Instead, a sinister grin spread across his face.

"Word is, your Brigade Commander husband and Clara have a kid together now."

Elise froze, and Blair's voice dripped with malice. "Think he'll still protect you like he did back then? Let's see who he picks—you or Clara."

Declan arrived swiftly, his efficiency cutting through the chaos.

Seeing the two women strung up, veins pulsed at his temples.

"Blair, haven't you had enough trouble?

"You think you can take on the military? Let them go if you know what's good for you!"

Blair slunk behind Elise, pulling a dagger and plunging it into her thigh.

She let out a guttural scream, pain ripping through her.

"Don't play high and mighty with me, Declan.

"Keep talking, and the next stab might hit somewhere worse!"

Declan's face paled as he saw the blood streaming from Elise's wound, his brows knitting tightly.

At that moment, Clara stirred, her eyes fluttering open.

Seeing the scene, she shrieked. "Deck, save me!"

Blair sauntered behind Clara, dragging the dagger's edge slowly across her skin.

"Where's my payment?"

Declan signaled, and a suitcase filled with cash was brought in.

Blair inspected it, then turned to Declan with a twisted smile. "Make your choice.

"Your wife or your mistress?

"The one you don't pick stays with me."

Declan's face darkened. "You dare toy with me?"

Blair shook his head. "I said come to ransom them. Never said you'd get both.

"I'm childless and lonely, and it's been years since I've had a woman.

"I need one to give me a son."

Declan's eyes blazed with fury, as if he could tear Blair apart.

"Shut your filthy mouth!

"Let them go!"

Blair's voice grew manic. "Calm down, Commander. I've got nothing to lose—if I die, I'm taking them with me.

"It's not a bad deal, going out with two beauties like these."

Clara's tears spilled over, her voice frantic.

"Deck, please!

"The baby's waiting for me. I can't die!

"He's your child too. Can you bear to leave him motherless so young?"

Declan froze, his eyes darting to Elise.

She gave a bitter, broken smile.

"Have you decided? Who's it gonna be?"

Blair roared, the scene fueling his deranged excitement.

Declan said nothing, his silence deafening. Blair, impatient, drove the dagger into Elise's abdomen.

She gasped, cold sweat pouring down as she cried out in agony.

"No choice? Then they both die with me!

"I'm counting—three, two, one..."

"I choose Clara!"

Declan's voice trembled as he repeated, softer, "I choose... Clara.

"Ellie, I'm sorry. I can't let the baby grow up without a mother.

"Hold on. I'll come back for you."

With that, he lifted Clara, freed from her bonds, and strode out into the night.

Blair's triumphant laugh echoed. "See that? You thought he loved you? Look at him now.

"He's walking away with his mistress, leaving you behind.

"Clara was right about you."

Clara. In a flash, Elise understood.

"This kidnapping—it was your plan!"

Blair didn't answer, but the truth was clear.

Clara had orchestrated this to drive her out.

She didn't need to go to such lengths—Elise was already planning to leave.

But Clara wanted more than her absence. She wanted her destroyed.

Blair's hands roamed over Elise's body, vile and unrestrained.

Memories of that near assault years ago flooded back, turning her stomach.

Her body went rigid, nausea rising.

"Don't touch me..." she cried.

Her faint plea did nothing to stop Blair's advances.

Blood loss clouded her vision, her strength fading.

The thought of dying here filled her with despair, but a surge of defiance sparked within her. She grabbed the nearest object and smashed it against Blair's head.

He staggered, caught off guard. "Damn you!"

Before he could lunge, Elise stumbled to her feet, struck a match, and tossed it to the ground.

The old warehouse, filled with flammable debris, erupted into flames.

She staggered toward the door, catching sight of Declan's retreating figure, Clara in his arms.

"Declan..." she shouted.

He turned at her voice, his eyes widening in horror.

What he saw would haunt him forever.

Elise stood, blood-soaked and disheveled, framed by the roaring fire, her eyes filled with a despair he'd never witnessed.

"Ellie, don't do anything stupid!"

Ignoring his desperate cry, Elise summoned her last shred of strength and shouted, "Declan, I never want to see you again!"

With that, she turned and vanished into the inferno.

"No!" Declan's anguished scream echoed into the night.