Chapter 2 Feeding the Wolves

Her eyes widened in horror. He was going to auction off her child's organs.

This wasn't just about humiliating her—it was about devouring her baby.

Her voice was hoarse, but she still screamed, "You can't. That's your child."

"My child?" Benjamin's face twisted with cold disgust. "I had an amniocentesis done long ago. This bastard isn't mine."

"If he couldn't be used as medicine for Violet, I would have killed him already. But since he's here, he'll serve his purpose."

Helpless, she watched Benjamin hand the child to the doctor. Her throat was too tight to make a sound.

She had never been with another man. This child was Benjamin's.

She wanted to explain, to break free, but she had no strength left.

She was forgotten—left naked in the birdcage, watching the demonic smiles around her.

She didn't know how much time passed before a tiny bundle was placed on the auction stage.

By then, her consciousness was fading. From the cold, from the neglect after childbirth—her body slowly growing cold.

Maybe dying on the same day as her child wouldn't be so bad.

Her consciousness sank, turning to fog, drifting.

She waited for it to dissipate. Waited for death.

Hours later, the pain hadn't faded. It had only grown worse. Her torn flesh ached like a beast gnawing at her—unbearable. She wished she could die right then.

Whispers came from around her, barely above a whisper. "I heard they didn't use anesthesia, just took the heart right out."

"Blood everywhere, couldn't stop it. So awful."

It felt like a knife twisting in her chest, grinding her heart to mush.

She jolted awake, ignoring the blood still seeping from between her legs. "The child... where's my son?"

Her voice must have been terrible—the doctors' faces twisted.

A maid who had been with her for years knelt beside her, frowning, and spoke hesitantly. "Ma'am, how are you feeling? Mr. Moore isn't here. I'll untie you right now."

"Where's my child? Give me back my child."

She would agree to a divorce. She would let them be together. As long as Benjamin gave her back her baby.

Weak, she knelt on the ground. Her hands had been bound so long her arms were bloodless.

She said, almost pleading, "Take me to Benjamin."

As long as he gave her the child, she would do anything.

"Mr. Moore is with Ms. Martinez. Maybe you should wait—"

"Don't you understand? Do you want me dead?"

She grabbed a needle a doctor had dropped and pressed it into her own neck.

The needle broke skin, pierced an artery—blood sprayed. The sharp smell of copper filled the air.

"Don't do anything rash. We'll take you there right now."

The maid took her arm and led her down the dark corridor.

This was Benjamin's private hospital—a facility he had built specifically for Violet.

His preference for Violet had seeped into every part of their lives.

She hated herself for realizing too late. It had cost her her child's life—and soon, her own.

The private hospital was nearly empty. She didn't see a single doctor.

She clutched her chest, biting her lower lip. A glimmer of hope remained: as long as Benjamin did a paternity test, he would know the child was his.

Even Benjamin couldn't kill his own flesh and blood.

He was just scaring her. He had to be.

Finally, the maid stopped before a door with dim light seeping underneath. "Ma'am, this is—"

Before she could finish, Amelia pushed past her.

But inside, only Violet was there.

An incubator sat before her. She couldn't see what was inside—only Violet's faint smile, eerie and cruel.

"Violet."

Her voice was weak, but her certainty was solid. Her child was in that incubator. Why else would Violet be here?

Violet was here to kill her child. She had to get him back.

Violet slowly turned her head. Her waist-length hair swayed in the dim light.

Her skin was pale, her pink lip gloss making her look delicate and fragile—the kind of face that made men want to protect her.

"Amelia, what are you doing here? Are you okay?"

Her fake concern made Amelia want to vomit.

"Give me back my child."

She tried her best to sound sincere. "I'll give you Benjamin."

"Give?" Violet turned. Her thin body looked like a strong wind could knock her over. Her bony fingers slid along the incubator's edge—Amelia's heart lurched.

"Do I need you to give him to me?"

She turned, a strange smile on her lips, then straightened her lower abdomen. "A child couldn't bind Benjamin to you. And now, that very heart rests inside my womb."

"You're lying."

"Why would I lie?"

Violet stepped aside. The incubator was empty.

She destroyed her with the gentlest voice. "From the beginning, Benjamin never planned to let him live."

"How could he? His own flesh and blood."

Amelia slid down the wall to the floor. The wound between her legs tore open again—but that was nothing compared to the pain in her chest.

He had sacrificed their child. No matter how much he hated her, he shouldn't be this cruel.

That was a life. A living person.

"Amelia, you're still lying. That was clearly Andrew's bastard."

Violet had somehow moved closer. She looked at her with pity and mockery. "Didn't Andrew sleep with you long ago? How can you lie so easily?"

"Impossible. I was a virgin when I was with Benjamin."

Why wouldn't anyone believe her?

Benjamin was her first. Her only.

She shook her head desperately, as if she couldn't stop.

Violet gave a cold laugh, almost cruel. "The results are in. That bastard is a ninety-nine percent match with Andrew."

"That's impossible."

She muttered to herself, not knowing or caring who heard.

Violet had the air of a victor. She lifted her chin and laughed. "No intact body left. But if you're fast enough, you might still find his remains. Let me think—where did Benjamin throw him? Ah, the wolf pen. You know how he loves those wolves. Being eaten by them... your son was quite lucky."

"Ahh—you psycho. I'll kill you. I'll kill you."