Chapter 1

I bled out on a bathroom floor while my billionaire husband held another woman's hand at a charity gala three miles away. My contract said I'd carry his heir for two years, collect five million dollars, and disappear.

Nobody told me I'd fall in love with him. Nobody warned me that love would kill me.

The cold tiles pressed against my cheek as blood pooled beneath me, warm and dark and endless. My phone screen glowed two feet away — I'd been trying to call Dominic Ashford when my body had finally given out.

Seven months pregnant. Carrying his son.

The doctors had warned me at five months that my placenta was dangerously positioned. They'd told me I needed bedrest, monitoring, weekly checkups.

They'd handed me a medical report and told me to give it to my husband immediately. I'd tried.

God, I'd tried. But every time I approached Dominic, Meredith Cole was already draped over him like silk.

And every time I opened my mouth, he'd cut me off with the same disgusted look. "Whatever it is, tell my assistant. I'm busy."

So I'd told his assistant. His assistant had laughed and thrown the report in the trash.

"Mrs. Ashford, Mr. Ashford specifically instructed me not to bother him with your complaints. You're a surrogate — act like one."

The bleeding had started at dinner. I'd stood up from the table — alone, always alone in that forty-room mansion — and felt something hot rush down my thighs.

I'd barely made it to the bathroom. Now, lying on the floor, I managed to drag my phone closer with trembling fingers.

I dialed Dominic one last time. He picked up on the sixth ring.

Music and laughter poured through the speaker. "What?" His voice was ice.

"Dominic… I'm bleeding. The baby—" My voice cracked.

"Please come home. I think I'm dying."

A pause. Then Meredith's sweet voice floated through the phone.

"Who is it, Dom? Come back — they're about to announce our donation."

"It's no one," he told her. Then, to me: "Stop being dramatic, Elara. You've been pulling stunts like this for months. I'll deal with you when I get home."

He hung up.

I stared at the ceiling as the phone slipped from my fingers. The chandelier above me blurred into a halo of light, and I thought — how fitting.

Even the lights in this house were beautiful. Everything Dominic owned was beautiful. Everything except me.

My hand found my belly. The baby had stopped kicking twenty minutes ago.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to my son. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you from your father."

The last thing I heard was the grandfather clock in the hallway striking midnight. And then — impossibly — I opened my eyes and found myself standing over my own body.

I was dead. My baby was dead. And through the bathroom window, I could see Dominic's Bentley pulling into the driveway, Meredith laughing in the passenger seat.