A Tragic Deception

The crisp texture of the hospital report crinkled under Sienna Croft’s tight grip. Her heart pounded a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Two pink lines. Three months pregnant. A giddy smile stretched across her face as she hurried up the front steps of her home. Roman Knox, her husband, had been overseas on a grueling business trip for over half a month. He was scheduled to return tomorrow, but she could not wait to plan the perfect surprise.

Pushing the heavy oak door open, she stepped into the quiet foyer. Her smile faltered.

A pair of sleek, silver stilettos sat carelessly kicked off near the entryway mat. They were not hers. Her brow furrowed as she stepped closer, recognizing the distinct designer buckle. Blair Croft. Her half-sister had just flaunted this exact pair at a family dinner a few weeks ago.

Wait. Was Blair not supposed to be on that same overseas business trip acting as Roman’s assistant?

Before the thought could fully form, a muffled sound drifted down the grand staircase.

A woman’s voice.

Sienna’s breath hitched. Her fingers went numb, dropping her keys onto the console table with a soft clink. It was Blair’s voice. The sultry, teasing cadence was unmistakable. Her body trembled instinctively. Roman was not due back until tomorrow, but who else would Blair be with inside this house? Inside their marital home?

Sienna commanded her heavy legs to move. She gripped the mahogany banister, ascending the stairs one agonizing step at a time. With every inch she climbed, the voices emanating from the master bedroom grew sharper, slicing through the heavy silence of the hallway.

"What are we going to do when she comes back later?" Blair’s voice purred, soft and dripping with dark feminine satisfaction.

Then came the response. Cold. Deep. Unmistakable.

"I don’t care."

Roman’s voice.

Sienna stopped dead outside the bedroom door, her hand hovering over the cold metal handle.

"She’s been dreaming of having your child for a long time now," Blair giggled, the sound twisting like a rusty knife in Sienna’s gut. "But I beat her to it. How do you plan to explain this to her?"

A stifling silence stretched for a few seconds. Then, Roman’s chilling tone cut through the air again.

"I don’t care."

A sharp pain radiated through Sienna’s chest, freezing her blood. She stared at the closed door, the wood grain blurring as hot tears flooded her eyes. Her hand fell away from the handle. She could not push it open. She could not force herself to look at the tangled limbs and ruined sheets.

What good would it do? Everyone in their circles knew the truth. Roman Knox did not love her.

She had fought tooth and nail, defying her family and facing endless mockery, just to marry him. For two exhausting years, she endured his cold shoulders and long absences. Desperate to give him an heir, to forge some kind of bond between them, she had subjected her body to every fertility clinic in the city. She drank bitter herbal remedies until she retched. She endured dozens of agonizing injections.

And now, the very day she carried the miraculous proof of their child in her womb, he was in their bed with her half-sister. Blair was pregnant, too.

Sienna stumbled backward. She turned and fled down the stairs, bursting out the front doors into the sudden, torrential downpour. Rain soaked through her thin dress in seconds, masking the tears cascading down her pale cheeks. She wandered aimlessly down the slick pavement, the phantom voices of her husband and sister ringing in her ears.

No wonder Roman always insisted on making Blair his personal assistant. No wonder he demanded her presence on every international trip. They had been playing this twisted game right under her nose the entire time.

Back in the master bedroom, the heavy velvet curtains twitched.

Blair stood fully dressed by the window, swirling a glass of expensive red wine. A cruel smirk curled her painted lips as she watched Sienna’s fragile figure shrink into the stormy distance.

The bedroom was empty, save for her.

On the nightstand, her phone screen glowed, displaying an audio editing application. The deep, cold voice of Roman Knox played on a loop, stitched together from various board meetings and rejected advances. Blair knew her weak, pathetic sister well enough. Sienna would never dare open that door and face a confrontation.

*“My wife is Sienna. Please, have some respect for yourself.”*

*“I don’t plan on getting a divorce in the next few years.”*

Roman’s actual, ruthless rejections echoed in Blair's mind, fueling the venom in her veins.

With a sharp scoff, she tossed the wine back, picked up her phone, and dialed a set of numbers.

...

The storm raged on, transforming the city streets into rushing rivers.

Sienna dragged her feet across the slick asphalt of Crest Bridge. The usual bustling traffic was nonexistent, chased away by the violent weather. She hugged her arms across her chest, the pregnancy test still crushed in her freezing fist. Her mind was a swirling abyss of grief.

Through the curtain of rain, a pair of blinding headlights suddenly flared.

A massive cargo truck roared down the empty bridge, its tires throwing up walls of water. Sienna squinted against the glare, her sluggish, grief-stricken brain failing to process the danger until the engine roar drowned out the storm.

*Slam!*

Metal crunched against bone.

The sheer force of the impact launched her body into the freezing air. For a fleeting second, time stopped. Then gravity seized her, slamming her down onto the unforgiving concrete edge of the bridge.

Agony exploded through her nervous system. Every organ felt ruptured. Warm, thick blood poured from her scalp, washing over her eyes and dyeing her blurred vision a horrifying crimson.

She lay paralyzed against the guardrail, the heavy rain washing the blood down her face. Through her fading consciousness, she heard the heavy thud of a truck door opening.

Heavy boots splashed against the puddles. A large, shadowed figure loomed over her. A rough hand grabbed her jaw, fingers pressing into her neck to check her pulse.

Finding a heartbeat, the man released her and pulled out a phone.

"Mr. Knox," the driver barked over the roaring wind. "She’s still alive. Should I drive the car into her again?"

Sienna’s breath hitched, sucking in a lungful of bloody rain. The pain radiating from her shattered bones was nothing compared to the agonizing tear in her heart.

Mr. Knox.

She had only ever known one Mr. Knox in her entire life. Roman Knox.

The boy she had loved since she was a teenager. The man she dedicated her youth, her dignity, and her unconditional devotion to.

Did he want her dead just because she stumbled upon his sordid affair? Did he order this hit to clear the path for Blair? To give the child in her sister's belly a legitimate name?

He did not even know about the child growing inside her. His child.

"Don’t blame me," the driver sneered, pocketing his phone. "Blame yourself for falling in love with the wrong man."

The man drew his leg back. His heavy steel-toed boot connected brutally with her broken ribs.

Sienna choked on her own blood. She was less than two meters from the edge.

The driver kicked her again. And again. Each merciless strike pushed her battered body closer to the abyss.

"See you in our next lifetime."

With one final, vicious shove, the driver kicked her over the edge.

Sienna plummeted into the dark, churning river below. The icy wind rushed past her ears, stripping away the present and leaving her with a single, haunting memory. A young Roman Knox, standing beneath a canopy of blooming cherry blossoms, offering her a warm, gentle smile.

That boy was gone. In his place was a monster.

I hate you, Roman Knox.

...

Hundreds of miles away in Port City, the atmosphere inside the corporate high-rise was tense.

Roman Knox strode out of the glass-walled executive meeting room. His tailored suit clung to his broad shoulders, radiating a dignified, imposing aura. He adjusted his cuffs, his sharp features locked in a mask of arrogant indifference.

His lead assistant scrambled down the corridor to catch up, his face pale and slick with nervous sweat.

"Sir," the assistant gasped, nearly tripping over his own feet. "It’s your wife. Something’s wrong."

Roman’s dark brows knitted together. He did not break his stride. "What trouble did she get herself into now?"

"Madam, she..." The assistant swallowed hard. "She was knocked into the sea by a truck. The authorities are searching, but her body hasn't been found."

Roman froze. His polished leather shoes halted abruptly on the marble floor. The arrogant mask cracked, his pupils shrinking to pinpricks as the words echoed in his brain.

Before he could force a single syllable from his dry throat, the sharp ring of his personal phone pierced the silence.

Roman pulled it from his pocket with a numb hand. The caller ID displayed the central hospital.

He swiped to answer, pressing the speaker to his ear.

"Mr. Knox," a doctor's somber voice came through the line. "Your wife didn’t want me to tell you about this just yet, but given the circumstances... I think you need to know. Your wife is pregnant. She is three months in."

The phone slipped from Roman’s grip, shattering against the marble floor.

...

Six years later.

The intercom echoed through the bustling terminal of Alden City Airport, announcing the arrival of an international flight from Europe.

Sienna stepped through the security clearance gates, the sleek wheels of her designer luggage gliding effortlessly behind her.

Six years ago, she was the naive, pathetic Sienna Croft. After dragging her shattered body from the jaws of death, she abandoned her past, choosing to be known simply as Sienna.

Her luscious chestnut hair tumbled carelessly over her shoulders. She wore a striking blood-red silk shirt tucked beneath a sharp, tailored black trench coat. The combination painted her as cold, untouchable, and fiercely mysterious. The woman who once begged for scraps of affection was dead. In her place stood someone forged in fire and betrayal.

Trailing perfectly in sync behind her were two children. A boy and a girl.

Nash and Hazel mirrored their mother’s aesthetic, donning matching miniature trench coats. Each dragged a sleek, compact suitcase. Though they appeared no older than five or six, the noble, glamorous aura they projected kept the milling crowds at a respectful distance.

"Sienna!"

A bright, ecstatic voice pierced the ambient noise of the terminal. Harper Hayes stood on her tiptoes near the barricades, waving both arms frantically. "Over here!"

Harper was one of Alden City’s most sought-after plastic surgeons. Five years ago, during a fellowship in Europe, she had scrubbed in on the grueling reconstructive surgeries that gave Sienna her new face. The shared trauma and triumph forged an unbreakable bond between them, turning the doctor into Sienna's most trusted confidante.

Seeing her friend return to Alden City, Harper rushed past the waiting crowd and grabbed the handle of Sienna’s main suitcase.

"The house is all prepped and ready," Harper beamed, her eyes shining with excitement. "We’ll head over there right now!"

"Thank you," Sienna replied, her cold exterior melting into a soft, genuine smile. She gestured to the two miniature figures flanking her. "Nash, Hazel, this is your Aunt Harper."

"Hi, Auntie!" Hazel chirped, her big eyes sparkling. The little princess blew a dramatic, sweet kiss toward Harper. "Please take care of us from now on!"

Harper melted instantly, but before she could coo over the girl, a cool gaze pinned her in place.

Nash eyed her up and down, his small hands resting in the pockets of his coat. "Aunt Harper, you don’t have a boyfriend, right?"

Harper blinked, taken aback by the boy's piercing assessment. "How do you know?"

The young boy let out a soft sigh, stepped forward, and firmly tugged his mother's large luggage out of Harper's grip. Taking charge of both suitcases, he marched ahead with the swagger of a seasoned executive. "Women who engage in too much hard labor will have a hard time getting married."

Harper stood frozen, her jaw dropping slightly. That little rascal!

Sienna chuckled softly, stepping in to smooth over the ruffled feathers. "He’s just bad with words, but he has a kind heart deep down. He’s just worried you’ll exhaust yourself."

Harper crossed her arms and pursed her lips. "Well, that sounds a bit better."

Shaking off the boy's sharp tongue, Harper looped her arm through Sienna’s, leaning in close as they navigated the crowded concourse.

"So, why did you decide to come back all of a sudden?" Harper asked, her gaze drifting over the twins. "And you only brought Nash and Hazel. Where’s Kian?"