Chapter 002

Morgan’s POV

The leather seat of the Reynolds family's private car feels cold against my skin as we wind through Los Angeles traffic toward the hospital. My stomach churns—perhaps motion sickness, perhaps morning sickness, or perhaps just the nauseating familiarity of this journey. This is the route I've traveled hundreds of times over the years: Olivia in her VIP hospital suite, Alexander perpetually at her side, even before he became my husband.

I press my forehead against the tinted window, watching palm trees blur past. The irony of my situation isn't lost on me. My husband is in love with my sister—a woman with a rare autoimmune disorder that prevents her body from producing enough platelets. Her immune system is so unique that only a handful of people worldwide have matching cells. Even a paper cut could cause dangerous bleeding for Olivia. She's the Montgomery family's precious miracle, untouchable and adored simply for existing.

I, on the other hand, exist only as Olivia's compatible stem cell donor. I admit I leveraged my medical value, and I've paid for it with five years of indifference. Five years of being Mrs. Reynolds in name only.

My father Robert only has eyes for Olivia. My brother resents me as if I'd stolen Olivia's health. In truth, I only "stole" the man she wanted. But they saw me as a medical resource long before that. Marriage to Alexander merely made their utilitarian view of me more obvious.

That summer when I was thirteen, I first realized my true worth to the Montgomery family.

That day, Robert pushed open my bedroom door without knocking, without greeting. His eyes held only cold determination, as if I were a project in his company, not his adopted daughter.

"Tomorrow, 9 AM, hospital. Olivia needs your stem cells," he instructed me, rather than making a request.

I put down my novel, my stomach churning. I knew Olivia was sick, but until that moment, I hadn't understood the real reason I was adopted.

"I don't want to go," I said, my voice much smaller than intended. "I heard it hurts. And... I have dance class tomorrow."

Robert's eyebrows furrowed slightly, the only sign of his displeasure. "This isn't a discussion, Morgan. Cancel your dance class."

"But why does it have to be me?" I asked, feeling a wave of confusion and hurt.

Robert walked into the room and sat on the edge of my bed. This closeness should have felt warm, but his gaze sent a chill through me.

"Because you're SPECIAL," he said, his voice softening slightly, though his negotiation tone remained, "Your immune cells match Olivia's at an extremely rare level. Do you know what that means?"

"No," I shook my head.

"It means you can SAVE HER LIFE."

I looked down at my hands. These hands should have been pursuing my dreams, but now they were assigned a different responsibility.

"Will it hurt?" I asked quietly.

"Mom will go with you," he avoided my question, standing up. "This is your responsibility to the family, Morgan. Don't disappoint us."

As he turned to leave, I knew I had no choice.

The car pulls up to the hospital's private entrance. I need a moment to regulate my breathing, to let the fine sheen of sweat on my forehead dissipate, to swallow back the nausea lingering at the back of my throat. These luxury vehicles always make me feel ill, and the new life growing inside me isn't helping. I blame this tiny being, deciding it must be a boy—destined to bring me complications and trouble just like his father.

I laugh at my own childishness. Moments ago, this life was just a cold, frightening fact—a cluster of cells barely visible on advanced medical scans, a complication in my escape plan. Now I'm already imagining conversations with him, wondering about his smile. Even unborn, he's becoming part of my emotional landscape.

I want this child. I want to keep this connection to life.

The thought terrifies me. If I follow through with my plan to leave, can I really raise a child alone?

After giving myself time for my tears to dry, I drag my tired legs through the hospital's marble corridors and take the exclusive elevator to the VIP wing. Alexander is waiting inside—not for the pregnancy announcement I'd considered giving him, but for the divorce papers.

I thought I was ready. I thought Alexander's five years of coldness had numbed my heart beyond feeling. But standing here, looking at the ornate wooden door to Olivia's room, I feel a stinging sensation. With a child in the equation, every decision becomes infinitely harder.

As I stand outside the ward, I hear Olivia's distinctive voice, slightly breathless, "Alexander, I'm so scared. Waiting for the treatment results feels terrible... hold me." Her voice is fragile yet calculated—the perfect performance of the delicate treasure she's always been.

Hearing those words, a wave of weakness washes over me. I know Alexander will embrace her, pouring what little emotional expression he has into that embrace. My eyes dim; I'm not sure how much genuine feeling he's capable of, but I know I've never received any of it.

What have I just done? After learning about my pregnancy, I actually told my best friend Aurora to cancel our escape plan? That plan set for today, the one that would be executed right after my divorce papers with Alexander were finalized. I actually felt a glimmer of hope because of this child's existence, thinking it might bring a turning point to our marriage that exists in name only? If I had any hesitation before, it vanishes now. This marriage can only end one way. I remind myself that I'm here to deliver divorce papers, to fulfill my promise. And the baby in my womb... just a variable that won't change the complex relationship between the Reynolds and Montgomery families.

Five years of mistakes is long enough. I no longer have the emotional resources to maintain this one-sided marriage. Alexander married me to satisfy family and medical needs. His heart has always belonged to Olivia—past, present, and future.

I texted Aurora to let her know that the plan remained unchanged, and her affirmative response brought me some relief.

I can't back down now, and Alexander wouldn't let me if I tried. He's been waiting for these divorce papers. I need to figure out what this child means in this mess. That's probably a question only I need to answer, because Alexander won't want anything to do with the baby, and Olivia... if Olivia allows this child to live, that would be merciful enough. I'm certain if she asked Alexander to make me terminate the pregnancy for "medical reasons," he wouldn't hesitate to agree.

"The stem cell transplant was three months ago, you silly thing," Alexander's laughter softly echoed, pulling me back to reality from my thoughts.

"What if the treatment fails again?"

Alexander's response was immediate, protective. "Then we'll keep trying. You know I won't let anything happen to you."

"I know you'll be there," Olivia whispered, her voice a clever tool to get what she wanted. "But if I'm still just that fragile flower... I can't be with you..."

I decide I'll leave tonight on Aurora's private jet, heading somewhere I can start over.

And the most important thing now is Alexander's signature on these divorce papers. I knock on the door.

But then, contrary to every possibility I had imagined, Alexander's voice cut through the tension.

"Olivia, I'm already married."