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Abandoned in Labor, I Married My Husband’s Deadliest Enemy

NovelShort new Completed

Mystery Devil Husband

“I don't care what happens to my wife. Just save the baby.” Those were the last words my mafia husband said before leaving me bleeding on the delivery table. Instead of staying beside me through the premature labor, he rushed to comfort Arabella, the innocent orphan I'd once treated like a younger sister. To him, I was nothing more than a foolish woman who had married him to settle a blood debt. Once I delivered his heir, he planned to throw me away and raise our child with his mistress. He never imagined I would fake my baby's death, sign the divorce papers, and disappear into a deadly winter storm with his most dangerous enemy. Three years later, Lucian found me at an elite banquet and seized my arm. “Who would want a barren woman that her own husband discarded?” Before I could respond, the VIP doors exploded open. The most feared Don in the underworld stepped through, his gun aimed straight at Lucian's head. “Take your hands off my wife,” my new husband ordered.

Chapters (4)

第1章

I was seven months into my pregnancy when a sudden gush of blood sent me into a panic. Lucian drove me to the hospital himself, but by the time we arrived, I was trembling so badly that I could barely think. The baby was far too young to be born, and the bleeding showed no sign of slowing. “Lucian,” I cried, clutching his hand so tightly that my nails dug into his skin. “Please, you have to save our baby. Please don't let anything happen to our child.” His expression was tense as he looked down at me, and for one desperate moment, I thought he would reassure me. Then his phone rang. The sound seemed strangely loud in the middle of my panic, and when Lucian answered, a familiar voice came through the speaker. Arabella. The helpless little orphan I had once taken under my wing. I had paid for her education, filled her wardrobe, brought her into my home, and treated her like the younger sister I had never had. Now she was crying so hard that she could barely get the words out. “Lucian, please don't do this to me. I can't leave the country.” Her voice shook with desperation. “You can't just send me away when you know how I feel about you. I love you, Lucian. I've loved you for so long. If you force me onto that plane, I swear I'll do something I'll regret.” Everything inside me seemed to stop. Lucian went rigid. “Arabella, calm down,” he said immediately. “Don't do anything reckless. Just stay where you are.” “Lucian?” I reached for his sleeve, struggling to breathe through the pain. “Where are you going? I'm bleeding. The doctors are trying to save the baby.” He didn't even turn toward me. Instead, he faced the doctor with an expression so detached that I barely recognized the man I had married. “I have to leave,” he said. “Whatever happens to her isn't my concern right now. Just make sure the baby survives.” Then he walked away. He didn't look back once. The pain became unbearable after that. It swallowed every thought in my mind until the hospital lights blurred above me, and eventually, I slipped into darkness. When consciousness returned several days later, I found myself alone in a room so quiet that I could hear the faint hum of the machines around me. I stared blankly at the ceiling, unable to summon tears or anger. There was simply nothing left. I felt as though someone had scraped everything out of me and left only an empty shell behind. Lucian didn't come until two days later. Arabella came with him. I looked at them standing together beside my hospital bed and felt nothing at all. There was no confrontation, no screaming, and no desperate plea for him to reconsider. “I want to end our marriage,” I said quietly. Lucian's answer came without hesitation. “Then sign the divorce documents.” He placed the papers in front of me, his expression utterly indifferent. “But once you've signed them, don't come looking for us again. You couldn't even protect the child you were carrying, so there's nothing left for me to expect from you. As far as I'm concerned, you're no longer useful.” Something inside me cracked at those words. I had thought the hospital had already taken everything from me, but Lucian somehow managed to reach the last piece that remained. Three years passed before I ever expected to see either of them again. Yet there they were at an exclusive private banquet, standing in the middle of a room filled with people who had no idea what had once happened between us. I was near the balcony, dressed in an emerald silk gown tailored specifically for me, a glass of sparkling water resting between my fingers as I waited for my husband. Not Lucian. The man who had found me when I was little more than a collection of broken pieces. He had never asked me to forget what happened. Instead, he had stayed while I learned how to live again, patiently helping me rebuild the life I thought I had lost forever. He gave me a new beginning, a new identity, and a love so deep that sometimes it frightened me. He was upstairs attending a short meeting, and I had no reason to rush him. Then a familiar voice cut through the music. “What the hell are you doing here?” I turned slowly. Arabella stood only a few steps away. She was almost unrecognizable from the timid orphan I had once brought into my home. Diamonds glittered against her ears and throat, while an extravagant couture gown emphasized the wealth she now flaunted without shame. One hand rested possessively over her very pregnant stomach. Lucian stood beside her in a perfectly fitted tuxedo, looking every bit as self-important as the man who had once walked away while I bled on a hospital bed. “Alessia,” he said, my name carrying unmistakable disgust. “Didn't we make ourselves clear? You were never supposed to show up in front of us again.” His gaze traveled over my dress before settling on my face. “Are you following me now? Did you waste whatever money you received in the divorce settlement and come crawling back because you've run out of cash?” I met his eyes without flinching. “I didn't follow you. This is a private event, and I was invited.” Arabella gave a soft, derisive laugh. “Invited?” she repeated. “Alessia, look around you. Do you honestly think you belong among these people? You're only here because you want to spoil my evening.” Her expression suddenly changed. She moved closer to Lucian, clutching his arm while her other hand went protectively over her stomach. “Lucian, please get her away from me.” Her voice became small and frightened. “I don't want her anywhere near me or the baby. What if she tries something? You remember how she behaved when you chose me over her.” The accusation struck deeper than I expected. For an instant, I was no longer standing beneath the glittering chandeliers. I was back in that hospital corridor three years ago, gathering the few belongings I had left after signing the divorce papers. Arabella had cornered me there. She had leaned close enough for me to smell her perfume and whispered with a smile, “Your child had to die before I could take my place, but at least you don't have to worry anymore. I'll give Lucian the heir you couldn't.” I had slapped her. And Lucian had appeared at exactly the wrong moment. He had shoved me against the wall and called me a jealous, infertile monster who couldn't accept that he had chosen someone better. The memory still burned. I could feel anger rushing through me, but before I could answer Arabella's accusation, Lucian stepped closer until there was barely any space between us. His eyes held nothing but disdain. “Leave,” he said. His voice was quiet, but the threat underneath it was unmistakable. “This event isn't meant for someone like you, and I'm not going to let an unstable woman create unnecessary stress for my pregnant wife. You've embarrassed yourself enough already.” I lifted my chin. “I'm not going anywhere. My husband will be here soon.” For a moment, Lucian simply stared at me. Then he laughed. The sound was filled with cruel disbelief. “Your husband?” He looked me over as though the very idea amused him. “Who exactly would marry a woman her own husband threw away? Stop pretending, Alessia. You're only making yourself look more pathetic.” He reached inside his tuxedo jacket and pulled out a thick bundle of hundred-dollar bills. Before I could understand what he intended, he flung the money straight into my face. The wad struck my cheek, and the bills scattered across the polished marble floor around me. Lucian looked down at the money, then at me, with the same contempt someone might reserve for something unpleasant beneath their shoe. “Take it and leave,” he said coldly. “Consider it enough to keep you quiet for tonight. Pick up your money, get out of here, and stay away from my family from now on.”

第2章

The bundle of cash struck the polished marble with a dull slap, the bills scattering in every direction. For a brief moment, the entire ballroom seemed to freeze. The string quartet continued playing, yet the music felt impossibly distant. Conversations died away, champagne glasses paused halfway to waiting lips, and an uncomfortable silence settled over the hall. Every gaze landed on me. The city's wealthiest families, mafia leaders and their wives, influential businessmen, and politicians all watched with open curiosity, as though I had suddenly become the evening's entertainment. Then the murmurs began. “Isn't that Don Lucian's former wife?” “I heard she lost her mind after the baby died.” “So she actually came here to ask him for money. How humiliating.” I remained where I was, my hands clenched so tightly that my nails bit into my palms. Arabella, meanwhile, performed her role with practiced perfection. She shrank behind Lucian, wrapping one arm protectively around her swollen belly while gripping his sleeve with the other. “Lucian...” she whispered just loudly enough for everyone nearby to hear. “She's frightening me. I think she's been following us. What if she's angry enough to hurt our baby?” Lucian immediately pulled her against him, glaring at me as though I were some dangerous animal that had wandered into the banquet. Then Arabella took another step forward. “Oh dear,” she murmured as her jeweled clutch slipped from her hand and landed beside my feet. She bent to retrieve it. As she did, the pointed heel of her designer shoe deliberately crushed the scattered bills before sliding onto the hem of my emerald silk gown. The expensive fabric stretched beneath her weight. She leaned closer until only I could hear her. “No matter how expensive your dress is,” she whispered with a smile, “you'll always belong beneath my feet.” The words struck somewhere far deeper than they should have. Suddenly, I wasn't standing in the ballroom anymore. I was back inside the mansion. Night after night, I had sat beside Arabella's bed while she cried herself to sleep, insisting she was nothing more than a forgotten orphan with nowhere to belong. I had brushed her hair, wiped away her tears, and promised she would never be alone again. I had opened my home to her. I had paid her tuition. I had bought her very first designer dress because she had been too embarrassed to attend a charity gala in borrowed clothes. “You're the closest thing I've ever had to a sister,” she had whispered against my shoulder one evening. “You've given me everything. I'd rather die than ever betray you.” I had believed every word. I never noticed the way her eyes followed Lucian whenever she thought I wasn't looking. I never questioned why she always found reasons to linger outside his study after everyone else had gone to bed. I had mistaken calculation for innocence. Just as I had mistaken Lucian's affection for love. To everyone else, Lucian had always been feared as a ruthless Don. With me, he had been patient, attentive, and gentle. I truly believed I was the one person capable of reaching the man behind the violence. Until the night I carried tea to his office. The study door hadn't been fully closed. As I reached for the handle, I heard his underboss speaking from inside. “You're getting attached to her, Boss. The men have started noticing.” Lucian laughed. It wasn't the warm laugh I thought I knew. It was empty. Cold. Mocking. “Attached?” he scoffed. “Don't insult me.” The tray in my hands suddenly felt unbearably heavy. “Her father owed the Syndicate five million dollars. Since he couldn't repay the debt, he handed over his daughter instead. That's all she is. Payment.” The porcelain cup rattled violently against its saucer. “So she actually believes you married her for love?” the underboss asked with amusement. “If believing that keeps her obedient, then let her keep believing it,” Lucian replied without the slightest hesitation. “She's attractive enough to produce an heir with the proper family name. Once she gives birth, I'll have no further use for her.” I had stood frozen outside that door while my entire world collapsed. Every kiss. Every embrace. Every promise whispered in the middle of the night. None of it had been real. I hadn't been his wife. Arabella had never been my sister. I was simply the daughter offered to settle a mafia debt, while she quietly waited to take everything that belonged to me. The memory dissolved, leaving me once again beneath the crystal chandeliers. Arabella straightened, clutching her purse as satisfaction flickered across her face. Lucian pointed toward the ballroom entrance. “You heard my wife,” he said coldly. “Pick up the money and disappear before I have someone drag you out.” Three years ago, those words would have destroyed me. I would have cried. I would have begged. I would have left in humiliation. But that woman no longer existed. My eyes dropped briefly to the money scattered around my shoes before lifting calmly to meet Lucian's. “You can keep it,” I said, my voice carrying effortlessly through the silent ballroom. “I don't need your charity anymore. My husband provides everything I could ever want.” Arabella let out an exaggerated laugh, but I didn't spare her another glance. “I wasn't here because of either of you,” I continued. “I'm waiting for someone. Now, if you'll excuse me.” Without another word, I turned away. The silk of my gown swept gracefully across the marble as I walked, leaving every dollar exactly where it had fallen. I could feel countless eyes following me, but I refused to lower my head. I had crossed barely half the room when strong fingers suddenly closed around my arm. The force jerked me backward so abruptly that I nearly lost my footing. I turned to find Lucian standing inches away. The composed smile he wore for society had vanished completely. His jaw was rigid, and a pulse beat visibly in his cheek. The fury burning in his eyes wasn't simply anger. It was possessiveness. “How dare you marry someone else?” he said under his breath, tightening his grip until it hurt. “Where are the tears? Where's the woman who swore she'd spend the rest of her life loving only me? You once said I was the only man you'd ever belong to.” He was waiting for me to break. Waiting for the frightened woman he had discarded three years ago. Instead, I held his gaze without the slightest hint of fear. A slow smile spread across my lips. “People change,” I replied softly. Then I leaned in just enough for only him to hear. “And besides...” My smile deepened. “I learned from the best. I cheated too.”

第3章

For one suspended moment, it felt as though the entire ballroom had ceased to exist. Lucian stared at me in stunned silence. The arrogant Don who had always carried himself as though nothing in the world could touch him had disappeared, leaving behind a man whose pride had just been brutally wounded. His hand tightened around my arm until his fingers began to leave painful marks against my skin. “Repeat that,” he said, his voice dropping into a trembling whisper. The amusement was gone, replaced by something far more dangerous. “Who was he, Alessia? Tell me who you were with.” Arabella immediately sensed that something had gone terribly wrong. Lucian was supposed to make me feel small. He was supposed to expose me as the pathetic ex-wife who had supposedly come crawling back for attention. Instead, he was staring at me as though the thought of another man touching me had driven him completely out of his mind. Fear flickered across Arabella's face. This wasn't how she had imagined tonight unfolding. “Lucian, enough!” she protested, hurrying toward him and grabbing the sleeve of his tuxedo. “She's only saying that because she wants to provoke you. You know she's unstable. Please, don't let her ruin this evening. Everyone is watching us.” “Get your hands off me, Arabella.” Lucian jerked his arm away so violently that she stumbled backward. For the first time all evening, he didn't even seem to remember that his pregnant wife was standing beside him. His attention remained fixed entirely on me. “Tell me who he is,” he demanded, closing the distance between us until I could feel the heat coming from his body. “Who did you let touch you?” His expression was furious, almost frantic, yet I felt no fear as I looked into his eyes. Instead, something about his desperation dragged an old memory from the deepest corner of my mind. Once, I had been terrified of seeing anger in those eyes. I had loved Lucian with the kind of devotion that made a woman blind to everything she should have noticed. During our first year of marriage, I had believed every affectionate gesture and every whispered promise. I could still remember those nights when he would pull me onto his lap inside his dimly lit study, burying his face against my neck as though my presence was the only thing capable of bringing him peace. “You're the one good thing in a life surrounded by darkness,” he had murmured against my skin. “You're the woman who stands beside me as Queen of the Syndicate. No one will ever lay a hand on you. I'll destroy anyone who dares hurt you, because you're mine, Alessia. You always will be.” I had been foolish enough to believe him. I had treated his love like something sacred, convinced that I was different from everyone else who feared him. I thought I had somehow reached the humanity buried beneath the ruthless Don's reputation. What a cruel joke that had been. His tenderness had never been love. It had simply been another chain, carefully disguised so the woman traded away to settle her family's debt would remain obedient. That memory slowly gave way to another, far more painful one. The night I walked out of the hospital three years ago. I had nothing left by then. My body was weak from blood loss, my heart had been destroyed, and the divorce papers were already signed. I had surrendered the mansion, the money, and whatever remained of the family I thought I had built with Lucian. Even the child I had carried had become nothing more than another wound he had refused to acknowledge. Outside the hospital, freezing rain poured from the sky. I remember standing there without knowing where to go. I had been so empty that I considered simply lying down on the pavement and allowing the cold to take me. Then a black Maybach stopped in front of me. The vehicle was heavily armored, its dark windows reflecting the storm. A moment later, the rear door opened, and a man stepped into the rain beneath a large black umbrella. I knew who he was. Everyone in our world did. He was another Don, but unlike Lucian, his name was spoken in hushed voices even by men who feared nothing. He controlled an empire built in the shadows and was the one rival the Syndicate had never managed to eliminate. Lucian's greatest enemy. The man everyone whispered about as though he were something less than human. Yet when he saw me standing there soaked and shivering, he didn't offer me pity. He studied me. His gaze moved over my bruised arms, my ruined clothes, and my exhausted face with the cold precision of a man assessing a situation rather than comforting a victim. “You've been stripped of everything,” he said, his deep voice almost swallowed by the rain. Then he extended his gloved hand. “Come with me. I'll give you a new identity, a place no one can reach, and enough power to make the people who destroyed you regret ever crossing your path. In return, you give me your loyalty and become part of my family.” I looked down at my battered hands. Then I looked at the man standing before me—the one person Lucian had spent years trying to defeat. When I finally placed my hand in his, I wasn't simply accepting his protection. I was choosing a side. I was walking away from the Syndicate, severing Lucian's hold over my life, and placing my future in the hands of the one man he feared most. That was the betrayal Lucian was so desperate to know about. And choosing that man had been the best decision I had ever made. The memory dissolved, and suddenly I was back beneath the dazzling chandeliers, staring into my ex-husband's furious face. Lucian's breathing had become heavy. He shook my arm again, his patience completely gone. “Give me his name!” he snarled. “Tell me who he is, and I'll find him myself. I'll make certain he regrets ever coming near you.” Then he snapped his fingers. Almost immediately, four heavily armed Syndicate enforcers emerged from different corners of the ballroom. A nervous murmur swept through the guests. Lucian's eyes never left mine. “You're not going anywhere,” he said, his voice turning frighteningly calm. “Not until you tell me which man you gave yourself to.” I glanced down at his hand around my arm before meeting his gaze again. “You lost the right to control me the moment you divorced me.” My voice remained remarkably steady despite the chaos unfolding around us. “So take your hand off me, Lucian. Because if you don't, my husband will make you regret it.” For a second, Lucian simply stared. Then a harsh laugh escaped him. “Your husband?” His expression twisted with contempt. “You expect me to believe some nobody outside our world can protect you from me?” His fingers tightened around my arm. “I am the Don of the Syndicate. If this imaginary husband of yours thinks he can stand against me, I'll put a bullet through him right in front of you. Then I'll take you back myself, whether you want to return or not.”

第4章

Lucian's fingers tightened around my arm, and from the look in his eyes, he had every intention of hauling me out of the ballroom whether I agreed to go or not. A bolt of panic shot through me. I searched the crowded room frantically until my eyes finally found what I had been looking for. At the far end of the mezzanine, behind the glass doors of the VIP lounge, stood the unmistakable figure of my husband. He was deep in a private discussion with several of the city's commissioners, completely oblivious to the chaos unfolding downstairs. I had to get to him. I wrenched my arm free with every ounce of strength I had. The sudden movement caught Lucian by surprise, loosening his hold just enough for me to break away. I ran toward the staircase leading to the VIP level. “Move!” I called desperately as I pushed through the crowd. “Let me through!” I only needed him to look down. If he saw me, everything would be fine. I hadn't even reached the first marble step when two of Lucian's enforcers moved into my path. The venue's security guards quickly joined them, creating an intimidating wall of bodies between me and the stairs. My husband had spent three years making sure my identity remained hidden from the criminal world. Almost no one knew that the woman Lucian had discarded was now protected by one of the most powerful men in the underworld. To these guards, I was nothing more than a hysterical ex-wife causing trouble at a private event. “Ma'am, you can't go up there,” one of the venue guards said impatiently. “The VIP area is restricted.” Before I could explain, he planted both hands against my chest and shoved me backward. I stumbled violently. My heels slid across the smooth marble, and I went down hard, my knees striking the floor with enough force to send pain shooting through my legs. Then came the horrible sound of silk ripping. The hem of my emerald gown tore against the stone. A collective gasp traveled through the ballroom, but no one stepped forward. No one offered me a hand. Arabella stood nearby, watching with unmistakable satisfaction as I struggled on the floor. Then Lucian approached. He crouched in front of me and seized my chin, his fingers pressing painfully into my cheeks until I had no choice but to look directly at him. “Did you really start believing you're untouchable?” he murmured. There was nothing playful in his expression anymore. “You're still the same woman I left behind. You couldn't even keep our child alive, and now you think some powerful man upstairs is going to see something worth protecting in you?” His grip tightened. “What makes you think he actually loves you? He doesn't even know the truth about you. No respectable Don would want a woman who has already been discarded and declared incapable of giving him a child.” Each word landed with brutal precision. I could barely breathe. I had promised myself that Lucian would never make me cry again, yet my body betrayed me. A single tear escaped and slid down my cheek. His expression immediately changed. He had been waiting for that. A cruel smile pulled at his mouth as though my tears had finally restored his sense of power. “You see?” he whispered. “You're still breakable.” He grabbed my arm again and began pulling me upright. “Whoever this man is, he's using you. Once I deal with him, I'll put you somewhere you can't cause trouble anymore.” Then a tiny voice suddenly rang through the ballroom. “Mommy!” Everything stopped. A little boy in a perfectly fitted miniature tuxedo came rushing through the crowd. He ran straight toward me and wrapped both arms around my waist. My breath caught. I immediately bent down and pulled him against me, shielding his small body with my own. His warmth, his familiar scent, the little arms clinging tightly around me—it all collided with Lucian's earlier accusation. You couldn't even keep our child alive. The lie nearly broke me. Because my baby had never died. Three years ago, I hadn't suffered a miscarriage. I had gone into premature labor. I could still remember lying on that delivery table, surrounded by doctors while blood soaked through the sheets. I had been terrified, but beneath the terror was another memory that had refused to leave me. Lucian's voice from weeks earlier. Once the baby is born, I'll get rid of her. I had heard him say it myself. By then, I knew exactly what he intended to do. If Lucian discovered that my child had survived, he would eliminate me and take the baby for Arabella to raise as though I had never existed. But Lucian hadn't been the only powerful man who knew what was happening that night. My husband had been there too. Using his wealth and influence, he had found doctors willing to falsify the medical records and create the illusion that my baby had died. While Lucian was occupied with Arabella, who had conveniently been having another emotional crisis in the waiting room, my premature son was secretly carried out through a restricted exit. He was transported in a private medical incubator equipped with everything necessary to keep such a fragile newborn alive. Lucian had never known. Not until now. His entire body went rigid as he stared at the child clinging to me. “What the hell is this...?” He reached down, apparently intending to pull my son away from me. Then his hand stopped. His expression shifted as he stared at the boy's face. Confusion came first. Then disbelief. His brow slowly furrowed as he studied the child's features, as though some terrible realization was struggling to take shape in his mind. He never got the chance to finish the thought. A thunderous crack exploded across the ballroom. The security guard who had shoved me was suddenly lifted off his feet and sent hurtling across the room. He slammed into the towering champagne display, sending glass, bottles, and silver trays crashing spectacularly onto the marble. Everyone screamed. Before anyone could react, the massive doors leading to the VIP lounge above shook violently. Then they were ripped from their hinges. Silence fell. A man stepped through the ruined doorway. He descended the grand staircase slowly, each step carrying a quiet menace that seemed to drain the air from the entire ballroom. My husband. His gaze traveled over the crowd before settling on Lucian. More specifically, on Lucian's hand hovering dangerously close to our son. When he finally spoke, his voice was so cold that it seemed to freeze the room around him. “Take your hands off my wife.” His eyes hardened. “And stay away from my son.”