Chapter 3
The moment my eyes met Adrian's, everything came pouring out:
"Adrian, save our baby!"
His eyes bloodshot, he sprinted toward me, shoving aside the guards pinning me down. Then he ripped the induction needle from my vein.
"Get off her!" His roar echoed through the room as he pulled my trembling body into his arms.
When he saw the bloody marks the restraints had left on my wrists, his eyes went red.
"It's okay, Claire. Don't be scared." His warm hand moved in circles across my back. "I'm here."
Leaning against him, I finally let myself break down.
Adrian had always been protective of me. Last night, too frightened by that cursed orchid to sleep, I'd sent him a simple text: [Babe, I miss you.]
He'd been scheduled for at least two more weeks abroad, but he'd dropped everything and caught the first flight home.
He stroked my back patiently, waiting until my sobs quieted before he whipped around, fury blazing in his eyes as he faced my in-laws.
"What the hell is wrong with you people?!" His voice cracked with rage. "You said she was family—and this is how you treat family?!"
Then he turned to my mother, disbelief written across his face. "And you! You're her mother. Her MOTHER. You just stood there watching them hold her down and said nothing?"
Strangely, none of them fought back. They just stared at him with this strange look I couldn't quite place.
Ignoring them completely, Adrian swept me up and made for the door.
We're getting out. Relief flooded through me. Once we're out that door, my baby will live!
But just as he turned, Margaret's voice cut through the silence.
"Adrian, look at the Crimson Orchid. It's turned to sludge."
Adrian didn't even slow down. He shouted back without turning his head:
"I don't give a damn about your fucking flower! Claire and my child are all that matter!"
"Your child?" A cane thudded against the floor behind us.
Conrad's voice was cold as steel: "Adrian, you know better than anyone whose baby Claire is really carrying, don't you?"
Cradled in Adrian's arms, my mind went blank.
What was he even saying?! To force me into an abortion, he'd stoop to accusing me of cheating?!
Trembling with rage, I was about to turn and confront him when Conrad's cold voice struck again:
"Go look at that Crimson Orchid. It's been in our family for generations, and when it turns black, it's a warning—"
"Ending this pregnancy is for your own good—and for this family."
The moment those words landed, Adrian's arms went rigid around me.
He actually stopped. His head began to turn.
Panic shot through me.
No! One look at that cursed plant had turned my mother against me! I can't let him see it!
"Adrian, don't look!"
I threw my hands up, covering his eyes.
"Adrian, please! This baby is yours! You have to believe me—don't listen to him!"
But it was too late.
Like a puppet with cut strings, he slowly pulled my hands away from his face.
I watched in despair as his head turned.
His gaze swept past me, locked onto the orchid. On that puddle of rotting black liquid, his eyes froze.
Just one look, and the strength drained from his arms.
"Adrian, it's just a flower…" I cupped his face with shaking hands. "Please, I'm begging you, just get me out of here."
But Adrian lowered his head without a word and set me back down on the cold carpet.
The protective fury in his eyes was gone, replaced by the same lifeless emptiness as his parents'.
"Claire," his voice was hoarse, "we have to end this. There's no choice."
That destroyed me.
I grabbed his collar, hands shaking. "Adrian… have you lost your mind? Do you even hear yourself?"
He avoided my eyes, his tone flat. "We can't keep this child."
"Crack!"
I lost it completely and slapped him hard across the face.
I snatched the amniocentesis report from the floor and shoved it against his chest, voice breaking:
"This is your own child! Look at it! There's nothing wrong with the baby! How can you stand here with these lunatics and kill your own child over a rotting flower?!"
Adrian let the paper slip from his chest and flutter to the floor. His eyes were dead.
"The report doesn't matter. Once the flower turns black, the child can't be kept."
Hearing that death sentence, I laughed bitterly through my tears, feeling every ounce of strength drain from my body.
"Adrian… this is our third baby."
He froze, staring at me in shock.
I looked back at him in utter despair, voice shaking. "The first two pregnancies—they forced me onto operating tables while you were away. Your parents held me down just like today!"
"I was terrified of what it would do to you if you found out. Terrified you'd cut them off. So I buried all that pain and kept you in the dark! But now I see what a fool I've been…"
"Your entire family—you're all monsters."
Adrian stared at me, disbelief flooding his eyes.
But he never got the chance to respond.
A sudden weight dropped through my abdomen, followed by a tearing cramp.
That small dose of medication they'd managed to inject—it was taking effect.
Something warm and slick slid down my inner thigh. Bright red blood spattered onto the carpet.
The drug was tearing my child away from me. The pain doubled me over.
And through my blurring vision, I saw something that shattered me completely.
My in-laws, my own mother, even my husband who'd looked so horrified moments before—
When they saw that pool of blood, every single one of them visibly relaxed.
On the table, that rotting flower finally went still.
They were all relieved the "problem" was gone. Only I lay there in a pool of blood, destroyed.
As my consciousness began to fade, I felt myself being lifted onto a cold operating table.
Through the haze and clinking of surgical instruments, I felt that tiny life being scraped piece by piece from my body.
In the last second before darkness took me, I only hated myself for being blind enough to marry into this family.
When I opened my eyes again, it was the middle of the night.
I lay in a quiet guest room, the deep cramping in my abdomen a brutal reminder.
Adrian was asleep with his head on the edge of the bed.
Looking at his face made me physically sick.
I couldn't stand another second in this house. Fighting through the pain, I dragged myself out of bed and stumbled toward the door, using the wall for support.
The hallway night-lights cast everything in dim shadow. As I passed the staircase to the attic, a nauseating wave of rot hit me—
The Crimson Orchid!
That smell ignited every bit of hatred inside me. That fucking plant had killed my three children!
Rage overpowered pain. Half-delirious, I climbed those dark stairs, a single thought consuming my mind:
I'm going to burn that thing to ashes!
When I reached the top, I shoved open the half-closed door.
There was no flower inside.
What I saw in that moment was a sight I would carry for the rest of my life.
And I finally understood—
Why my in-laws, my own mother, even Adrian—why they would all obey a rotting dead flower, and force me to lose three children!!!
