Chapter 1
3 years, 8 miscarriages, 68 rounds of IVF–I nearly died bringing my son Lucas into this world, only for him to be sickly from birth, spending six months in the ICU.
Last night, Lucas took a critical turn again. My husband Damien immediately chartered a plane to bring in the world’s top medical team. After the surgery, our son’s life was saved, but I collapsed from exhaustion.
When I woke up the next morning, I dragged my weak body to the ICU, only to overhear a conversation between the doctor and Damien outside the door.
The doctor’s voice was heavy: “Lucas and Noah are a perfect match. The transplant was successful, and Noah is out of danger. But honestly, Lucas could have survived even without the neural tissue transplant.”
Damien’s voice was cold as ice: “Lucas has neuronal activity far beyond normal–he’s a genius. Noah is Sienna Rivera’s child, and he deserves the very best of everything.”
‘Lucas, with his damaged life, doesn’t need to continue existing. He’s fulfilled his purpose.”
The world spun around me. I gripped the wall to keep from collapsing.
So it had all been LIES. Our entire marriage was nothing but a con.
Enough.
It was time to let go. Completely.
The doctor wanted to say something more, but finally managed only: “Your wife hasn’t left his side for a second. If he kid suddenly dies, how the hell are we gonna explain that?”
Damien’s eyes turned ice–cold. “Tell her it was post–surgical complications that triggered some genetic condition. Say we couldn’t save him. Clean this mess up and don’t leave any loose ends. I won’t let this screw up my marriage.”
He paused. “Get that new high–radiation equipment we just brought in ready. I’m taking her for a scan–targeting he uterus. Make sure she can never have kids again.”
The doctor’s voice trembled. “Mr. Hawthorne, Lucas is already gone… and you still want to do this to your wife? I can’t do it. This is just too damn cruel.”
Damien’s tone stayed gentle, but his eyes were arctic. “I love Sienna. I can’t give her my name, but I sure as hell won’t let any other woman have my children either. That’s my promise to her. Just do what I’m asking.”
The doctor tried to argue: “That equipment’s brand new–we’ve never used it on humans, let alone on a uterus. The high–radiation side effects…”
Damien cut him off impatiently. There won’t be any “what–ifs. We’ll disguise it as postpartum recovery treatment. She trusts me–she won’t suspect a thing. I’ll make it up to her financially. Just hurry up. I don’t want Sienna
worrying“.
The doctor looked down. Those eight miscarriage procedures before–we handled them all cleanly. If it wasn’t for the blood type and bone marrow matching your wife wouldn’t have had to go through all this hell. Sixty–eight IVF attempts, our research…..
Damien interrupted him. “The patent’s yours, and you can publish the papers. Brooklyn Hayes’s body can take the abuse–that’s her value.”
I couldn’t listen anymore. I turned and stumbled into the stairwell.
So…. Three years of hell. Eight miscarriages. Sixty–eight IVF attempts.
All just part of some twisted scheme!
My poor Lucas–nothing but spare parts for someone else!
For Exter I Dierovered His Sick Plan
