My Sister and I Gave Birth to the Don’s Children on the Same Day

Novelix new Completed
16+、背叛、追妻火葬场、追悔莫及、怀孕、被欺骗/出轨、女儿、情妇、受害者、果断的、大女主、黑手党/黑帮、第一人称视角、女性力量/大女主、豪门、剧情/戏剧、现代/都市、现代

Elena Cole believed marrying Don Adrian Moretti would keep her safe. But when she and her adopted sister, Ava Pierce, go into labor on the same day, Elena learns Ava is also carrying Adrian’s child. In his private hospital, Ava gets a VIP suite while Elena is left bleeding in a hallway with a starving newborn. Every plea for help is dismissed as drama; every rule protects Ava. By morning, Elena’s daughter is dead. At the funeral, Elena demands they kneel before the child they abandoned—then walks away from her family, the Don, and the life that destroyed her.

Chapters (3)

第1章

My due date came early, and Don Adrian Moretti's phone kept going straight to voicemail. I'd been in the delivery room for ten hours before Adrian finally showed up. He was wearing a black suit, his expression so calm he might as well have been passing through. "Ava's going into labor too. I need to be with her. A doctor will come to deliver your baby." Ava was my parents' adopted daughter. I'd been in the delivery room for ten hours before Adrian finally showed up. He was wearing a black suit, his expression so calm he might as well have been passing through. "Ava's going into labor too. I need to be with her. A doctor will come to deliver your baby." Ava was my parents' adopted daughter. The pain had almost stolen my voice, but I still managed to grab hold of his fingers. "Adrian, I'm your wife..." He pulled his hand free without a flicker of emotion. "That's exactly why you should know the rules." "St. Gabriel is a Moretti family hospital. Every eye in this building is on me. If I personally stand guard outside your delivery room, people will say I'm funneling family resources to my own." I was shaking with hurt, clinging to him, refusing to let him leave. That was when my parents walked in. My mother, Catherine Cole, pressed down on my shoulder, her tone weary and impatient. "Elena, I'm going to be honest with you. The baby Ava's carrying is Adrian's." "He's been holding back for months just to spare your feelings during the pregnancy. He's been suffering enough." My father, Charles Cole, stood behind her, his voice low and grave. "Just this once, be the bigger person. Let him go watch his own child being born." I stared up at the harsh white light of the surgical lamp. All I could hear was a dull ringing in my ears. It wasn't until they placed that tiny baby in my arms that I heard my own trembling voice. "Sweetheart, it's just going to be you and me from now on, okay?" ... When I came out of the delivery room, there were no flowers. No comfort. Just the faint glow of my phone screen. "Elena, something urgent came up at the company. Your father and I won't be coming." A group of nurses walked past, lowering their voices, but every word still reached me perfectly. "That Miss Ava on the top floor is really something special. I heard Mrs. Cole had someone send up this enormous bouquet." "She even asked the nursing station to keep an extra eye on her. Said Ava was the daughter she raised, and she shouldn't have to suffer." "Not even her biological child, and yet the bond seems stronger than blood." I slowly closed my eyes. This hurt worse than the labor. The hospital rooms were all full. The head nurse recognized me and made a call to Adrian's assistant. Before long, the call was transferred to Adrian himself. "Boss, don't worry. I'll make sure your wife gets a private room." Adrian's voice came through the receiver, stern and cold. "Follow hospital protocol. She gets whatever she's entitled to." "There's no reason to give her special treatment and make other patients suffer for it." I had nearly died giving him this child, and he brushed me aside like an inconvenience. I lowered my head and nuzzled my daughter's flushed little face, unable to stop the tears. After a runaround of dead ends, I was temporarily placed on a bed in the hallway. Before long, Adrian came striding past with several of his men. My daughter cried out from hunger, her voice thin and weak. His steps faltered for a moment, but he didn't turn around. The doctors trailing behind him murmured to each other. "Boss is probably rushing up to the top floor to see Mrs. Moretti." "I heard he personally ordered that VIP room held for her." I was right there, crammed into a narrow, noisy hallway. So who was this Mrs. Moretti they were talking about? Was it Ava? For her, Adrian would actually speak up himself. Blood seeped through the stitches on my lower abdomen, and sharp waves of pain hit me one after another. I couldn't let myself think anymore. My daughter's face was red from crying, but I had no milk to give her. All I could do was beg a nurse to help me get a hot meal so my milk would come in. I waited for a long time. What finally came was a few slices of dry bread. The nurse looked embarrassed. "Don Moretti said every postpartum patient gets the same meal plan. He said you shouldn't expect special treatment." I took it without a word. A few minutes later, I scrolled past Ava's social media post. "Hubby arranged my postpartum meals. I have to finish every bite. I'm definitely going to gain weight." The photo showed a meal prepared by a nutritionist. Fish, shrimp, and a carefully paired soup. Her son was sleeping peacefully in an expensive bassinet, his cheeks rosy and full. My daughter lay in a worn swaddle, her little face already purple from crying. So their precious rules only applied to me. If they wanted to make me suffer, fine. But now my child had to bear the same fate. I was done with this family.

第2章

My daughter kept sucking on her tiny fist, clearly starving. All I could do was force myself to chew the stale bread, washing it down with water as fast as I could. I ate too quickly, and the dry crust scraped my throat raw. I forced down piece after piece. The bread expanded in my stomach, making me want to vomit. Even so, the milk wouldn't come. My daughter began to cry in my arms, her breaths growing weaker. "Here, dear. Give this to the baby." The elderly woman in the bed across from me held out a steaming bowl of porridge. The tenderness and kindness in her eyes made my throat tighten. I thanked her quietly. She looked at me and couldn't help asking. "Where's the baby's father? Why isn't he here taking care of you?" I lowered my eyes. I couldn't say it. Her father was right next door, looking after someone else's child. I blew on the porridge again and again, then carefully brought it to my daughter's lips. "Don't feed her that!" Adrian strode over and knocked the bowl from my hands. Scalding liquid splashed across my legs. I flinched and instinctively pulled the baby away. His eyes were cold as a blade. "Do you have any idea she can't digest that yet?" He frowned at my sorry state, his tone dripping with irritation. "Have you really gotten so fragile you can't even hold a bowl?" That look was unmistakable. He thought I was playing the victim. I bit my lip, raised my head, and forced the heat back behind my eyes. "Then what am I supposed to do? She's hungry. I only had a few pieces of bread. I have no milk." Adrian's brow furrowed. "Are you blaming me?" "You're the one who never eats properly. Of course your nutrition can't keep up." As if I didn't want to eat. I couldn't. The morning sickness was so severe that everything I put down came right back up. I thought Adrian knew. After all, he'd once had someone compile a thick prenatal observation journal. At the time, my heart had been so full. I'd believed he was recording my every reaction, holding each detail close. Now I realized that all those notes that never quite matched my symptoms probably had nothing to do with me at all. They were about Ava. And I'd been the fool, reading them over and over like love letters. Tears fell without warning. Adrian pressed his thin lips together and finally softened his tone. He reached out and wiped my tears away, the motion stiff and mechanical. "This is a hospital. I can't be seen doting on you. People will say I'm abusing my power." "I'll go get you a bottle of milk. But this is the last time." He left for a little while and came back quickly, holding out a baby bottle. "Ava made it herself. Go ahead." The bottle was old, like it had been dug out of some forgotten corner. But I had no choice. I tested the temperature on my wrist and gently fed it to my daughter. She sucked greedily twice, then burst into a wail. The milk she spit up reeked of something sour and spoiled. I scrambled to wipe the residue from her mouth with a cloth. Adrian rubbed his nose, instinctively making excuses for Ava. "She probably grabbed the wrong one. She didn't mean to." "Besides, babies aren't as fragile as you think. Don't be so dramatic." His careless words had barely landed when Ava's soft, helpless voice drifted over from next door. "Adrian, the baby suddenly won't nurse. What do I do?" Adrian turned and left immediately, ordering the pediatrician to get over there at once. Every self-righteous rule he'd just lectured me about was thrown right out the window. So he could worry after all. Just not about us. I let my head drop, pressing my face against my daughter's soft cheek. The elderly woman came over and sighed. "Sweetheart, a man like that isn't worth keeping." I nodded. "I know. I'm done."

第3章

A kind nurse brought over a bottle of fresh milk. My daughter drank eagerly and finally fell asleep. But less than an hour later, someone shouting into a phone in the hallway woke her again. I had no choice. I carried her to find Adrian. In his office, he was bent over documents. Several of his men stood by, waiting for orders. I stood in the doorway, my voice exhausted. "I'd like to request a room." "No." He didn't even look up. "Every eye in this hospital is on me. I can't make exceptions for you." I took a step back. "Then let me and the baby rest here in your office. No one's going to gossip about that." Adrian finally raised his head. "If you're both in here, how am I supposed to handle family business?" From the day I met Adrian, I knew he was a complete workaholic. He rarely answered my messages. When he did, it was just a curt "Noted." I'd assumed he was like that with everyone. But right in front of me, he answered Ava's call on the very first ring, his voice so tender he sounded like a different person. "It's okay. I'm coming." "Don't worry about it. A meeting could never be more important than you." So he did know how to care about a baby. But since our daughter was born, he hadn't held her once. I grabbed his arm. I suddenly needed an answer. "Adrian, why does Ava get a VIP suite while our daughter and I are crammed in a hallway?" He looked down at me, and the coldness in his eyes made me step back. "Don't tell me you don't know why." "That winter, you shoved Ava into the pool over some petty argument and left her with permanent damage." "If my people hadn't been watching over her, she would have died on that operating table." "Elena Cole, can you really not stand to see her doing well?" I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I'd explained it so many times before. I didn't push her. But they only ever believed Ava's tears. Convicting me took no effort at all. Seeing my silence, Adrian's lips curved into a thin, mocking smile. "That's the real difference between you and Ava." "If she knew you were doing well, she'd be genuinely happy for you." "But you? You're never satisfied. Always jealous. Always acting like a lunatic." I shook my head through tears and reached for him, but my hand grasped only air. He was the one who'd pulled me close by the waist and said he wanted a child. I held the baby tighter and said quietly: "If I'm really that terrible, then I'll stop bothering you." "Adrian, let's get a divorce." His back stiffened for a moment. Maybe I imagined it. I was finally agreeing to a divorce. He should be relieved. I'd been standing too long. Pain throbbed through my lower abdomen. I steadied myself against the edge of the desk. I pushed the door open. A young nurse was waiting outside. "Miss Cole, Don Moretti asked me to take you somewhere to rest." She glanced at me a few times, then couldn't help whispering. "What is Don Moretti to you?" "I heard this room was taken from another patient on his orders." I pressed my lips together and answered the way Adrian would have wanted. "Just a friend." Finally, I had a place where I could sleep in peace. I gently patted my daughter's back, slowly coaxing her to sleep. But gradually, the temperature beneath my palm didn't feel right.

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