I Carried His Dead Ex's Baby

Three months into my pregnancy, Lucian pointed at my belly in front of everyone and coldly ordered me to abort the baby.

I swallowed my tears, reaching for him, begging him to come home—but he shoved me away with a sneer. His voice dripped with contempt. "Lyra, you're nothing but a gold-digging whore. When did I ever promise you a home?" He scoffed, eyes dark with disgust. "Wasn't it you who schemed your way into my bed? Got yourself knocked up just to trap me?"

A sharp pain twisted through my stomach as I stood, but Lucian didn't even glance my way. Instead, he pulled another woman into his arms, kissing her deeply—right in front of me. The dim, smoky private room hummed with anticipation, everyone waiting to watch me break.

Lucian's gaze locked onto mine as his lips moved against hers. Outside, spring blossoms swayed in the breeze, but all I heard were the woman's breathy moans. "Lucian… not here," she whispered, her voice dripping with fake shyness.

He only smirked, gripping her tighter. A sharp rip tore through the air as he shredded her collar. "Who cares?" His eyes flicked to me, icy. "Lyra, take yours off and give it to her. Or do I have to strip you myself?"

My hands shook as I unbuttoned my jacket, draping it over the woman's shoulders. The room was too dark to see their faces clearly, but I didn't need to. "You're drunk," I managed, voice brittle. "I'll wait outside."

"Lyra, it's cold—here, take your coat back." A sickly-sweet voice called from behind me. Before I could react, fingers clamped around my wrist.

The woman—now wearing my jacket—smiled up at me. And that's when I saw them: the faint love bites scattered across her throat. But worse—her smile.

It was Astrid's smile.

My breath hitched. "Astrid?"

The woman flinched, burying her face in Lucian's chest. His roar was barely human. "You don't get to say her name! It should've been you who died that night—not her!"

He hated me.

For ten years, he'd hated me because I survived the crash that killed Astrid. The car accident I'd begged her to drive us to—the dance competition she never made it to.

What he didn't know? Astrid had faked her death. She'd left him because she fell out of love. And I—the fool who loved him—kept her secret, shielding him from the truth.

But a decade of devotion meant nothing. His heart was ice.

And I was done trying to melt it.

A brutal shove sent me crashing into the wall. Pain exploded through my back, stealing my breath. Instinctively, I cradled my stomach—which only enraged him more.