The Night I Went Into Labor, His Stepsister Livestreamed Herself Bedding My Husband

I looked at Bianca standing there in front of me and thought about how absurd my old life had been. Eight years ago. Julian had married me straight out of Columbia. He'd made me turn down a job offer at a top firm, told me to stay home and be his wife, promised he'd take care of me for the rest of my life. I met Bianca for the first time at the old Ashford estate. She was sobbing her heart out, and since she was Julian's sister in name at least, I personally arranged for her to move back into the family home. She thanked me over and over. Swore she'd repay me someday. I could never have guessed her thanks would come in the form of a video of them going seven rounds in one night. Seeing I hadn't answered, Julian's voice hardened. "Are you deaf? Stop embarrassing us. Look at what your mother is wearing—she looks like she crawled out of a dumpster. Take the kids and go home. Now." I nearly laughed. Did Julian actually believe Vivienne was my mother? That my children were his? Where did he find the nerve? His child and mine had died the night he was busy going seven times. No one came in time. I hemorrhaged. I nearly died along with the baby. I stared at the man who'd killed my child, forcing my emotions down. "You're getting ahead of yourself. These two have nothing to do with you."

Before I could finish, Bianca cut in, wounded expression already in place. "Stella, please don't get the wrong idea about Julian. There's nothing between us—I'm just his stepsister. This is what stepsiblings do, isn't it?" "My baby won't be any trouble, honestly. As long as there's food, it'll be fine." "Stella, think of the children. Don't drag them around like vagrants anymore." Her words were so brazenly hypocritical I nearly laughed out loud. Julian, of course, was moved. He stepped forward and used that tender voice I remembered so well. "Don't say things like that. I'll treat your baby just the same." Then he turned on me, furious. "Stella Sinclair, haven't you caused enough of a scene? What kind of woman picks a fight with a pregnant lady?" "Have you no shame? If anything happens to Bianca's baby, I'll make you pay with your life!" *This* was what he called treating them "equally"? Revulsion rose in my throat. Vivienne had had enough. She spoke up. "Stella, who are these people? Why are they screaming at us for no reason?" I didn't want Vivienne dragged into any of this. I took her hand gently and lowered my voice. "Probably mentally unstable, Vivienne. Let's get out of here." I tugged her along, ready to leave. My husband, Sebastian, wasn't flying back until tonight. I didn't want to make more trouble. When Julian heard me call him mentally unstable, he grabbed the front of my coat. "Stella Sinclair, I'm being generous—don't throw it back in my face. Who the hell are you calling crazy?" Vivienne couldn't stand to see me pushed around. Her face darkened and she slapped Julian's hand off me. "Watch your mouth. Don't touch my daughter." Warmth bloomed in my chest. I'd grown up in a broken home. To my parents, I was nothing but a burden. That was half the reason I'd been foolish enough to fall for Julian right out of college. But Vivienne treated me like her own flesh and blood—more, even, than her own son. She used to say I was a gift God had given her, and no one was allowed to hurt me. Now, seeing Julian dare to lay a hand on me, she'd flown at him without a second thought. Julian gave her a contemptuous glance, no trace of respect in his eyes. "Don't think I don't know why you showed up today. You just want money, riding on the fact that Stella gave me twins. Fine. Here's a thousand. Now get lost." He pulled a small wad of bills from his pocket and threw them at her. Vivienne had never been so insulted in her life. She slapped him. Twice. "Where does a little punk like you get off insulting me?" Seeing Julian take the hit, Bianca shrieked. "You homeless bitch, how dare you hit him!" Homeless? *Vivienne?* I glanced at what Vivienne had chosen to wear that day. A patchy, deliberately shabby outfit. Even her shoes were torn. I almost laughed. Vivienne loved keeping up with trends—had the same mindset as women half her age. Too bad Julian and Bianca had no idea who she was. Julian was a textbook bully—cowering before the strong, savage with the weak. Once he saw Vivienne fight back, he didn't dare touch her. He turned all his venom on me instead. "Stella Sinclair, drop the act!" "Slap your own face. Twice. Right now. Do it, and I'll consider letting the kids come back to the Ashford family. Otherwise, don't blame me for not acknowledging them!" I let out a cold laugh. "I'll say it one more time. Those children have nothing to do with you." Bianca made her voice small and sweet. "Stella, this is really on you. Julian's already swallowed his pride and given you an out. And now you're back groveling for scraps—your kids won't have a father at this rate." Vivienne looked ready to swing again. I stopped her. Sebastian wasn't here. I was scared I couldn't protect them alone—there was no telling what Julian would do if he really lost it. Nothing mattered to me more than Vivienne and my children. Ignoring Vivienne's agitation, I pulled them both away, letting Julian and Bianca's curses die against my back. My phone rang. Marcus, Sebastian's assistant. "Mrs. Shaw, Mr. Shaw is still in his meeting. The cardiac specialist has been arranged. Mr. Shaw says he'll fly out the moment the meeting ends." "Tell him not to rush. I've got Vivienne and the children. Don't let him do what he did last time and buy another private jet." "Yes, ma'am. I'll pass it along. But Mr. Shaw becomes impossible if he's away from you longer than twenty-four hours. I'm afraid I won't be able to talk him out of anything." I laughed helplessly. Sebastian was perfect in every way—except he was clingy as hell. I hung up and led Vivienne and the twins to Dr. Quentin's consulting suite. Vivienne had been having heart trouble lately. Sebastian had gone out of his way to book the best cardiologist in the country for her. But the moment we reached the office door, we saw Julian chatting with the hospital director.

Julian sneered when he saw me. "I actually thought you had enough dignity to go beg on the streets rather than come crawling back to the Ashfords. I never imagined you'd chase me all the way here." The director asked, offhand, "And this is...?" "My wife. The one who ran away six years ago." That was the first time Vivienne learned who Julian actually was. She leaned in and whispered by my ear. "So *this* is the son of a bitch. Didn't even know how to treasure a gift from God." I nodded and squeezed her hand tighter. Vivienne's hand was warm, solid, sure. I didn't so much as glance at Julian. I addressed the director directly. "Excuse me, I have an appointment with Dr. Quentin." Director Hartwell looked the four of us up and down and curled his lip. "Very sorry. Dr. Quentin only has one appointment today. Please leave." I said quickly, "It's possible we're that appointment." I held out my phone to show him the confirmation. Julian snorted with laughter. "Photoshop's really something these days. Can fake anything. If it weren't for that pathetic getup of yours, you might've actually fooled the director." The director burst into laughter along with him. "Your wife's quite something, isn't she. Dr. Quentin is the top cardiologist in the country. Getting hold of her name is one thing—" "Unfortunately, Dr. Quentin's appointment today is with Sebastian Shaw. *The* Sebastian Shaw, from Wall Street. Why do you think I'm standing here waiting?" Julian visibly perked up at the name. "Thanks for the tip. I've been trying to arrange a meeting with him for months and haven't even caught his shadow. If I close that deal, there'll be a very generous cut in it for you." The director cleared his throat, unable to fully hide the excitement in his voice. "Say no more." I was tired of talking around them. "I'm Sebastian Shaw's wife. This is his mother. Now can we go inside?" They laughed even harder. The director looked ready to double over. "Julian, your wife's got a real gift for storytelling. Lies just roll off her tongue." Julian spat at my feet and sneered. "You think someone like *you* could ever snag Sebastian Shaw? I'm not even dead yet, and you're openly cheating on me?"

Vivienne fixed him with an icy stare. "Who exactly do you think you are, blocking our way? I'm Sebastian Shaw's mother, she's my son's wife. Is there a problem?" At her words, the director's face darkened even further. "You want to go through trash, go find it on the street. This isn't a place for trash like you." I laughed coldly. "This is a *hospital*. Anyone who's sick has the right to come in." The director gave me a scornful glance. "Some people can walk in, but they can't afford treatment. Save the money, buy yourselves a nice meal, and go home to die. I'm doing you a favor. Show some appreciation." Just then, Bianca reappeared, fresh from her check-up. The moment she saw us, she pinched her nose shut. "Stella, I'm just going to say it—Julian gave you a way out earlier and you refused it. And now you're back groveling for scraps? You've disgraced the entire Ashford name." "And look at your mother. She hasn't showered in days. She reeks." She gave a few exaggerated retches. Julian rushed over, worried, and rubbed her back. The director summoned every security guard on staff to throw us out. Vivienne roared, "I'd like to see anyone try to touch us!" The guards looked at one another, then at the director, who nodded. They didn't hesitate any further. They grabbed us roughly by the arms. I was terrified Vivienne would have a heart attack, so I stepped in front of her, afraid the stress alone might set her off. Seeing that my hands were full, Bianca lunged out and kicked Ethan square in the chest. Ethan, only four years old, screamed and burst into tears. Emma reached for him, panicked, and Bianca shoved her hard—hard enough that she flew backward and slammed into the wall. "Stella, these two brats have no manners at all. If you won't teach them, I will." I threw every ounce of strength into pushing the guard off me and pulled my children into my arms, checking them over frantically. While I was distracted, Julian slapped Vivienne. Twice. Hard. "You old witch had the nerve to hit me. Now I'll have to disinfect myself when I get home just because a filthy beggar like you touched me." Vivienne was pinned in place and couldn't move. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, bright and terrible against her pale skin. I wanted to go to her, but my arms were full of my crying children, and a wave of helplessness crashed over me. "Stella, don't worry about me. Just keep the children safe." Vivienne had always been iron-willed. Even now, she wouldn't bend. But I couldn't bear seeing her hurt. "Julian Ashford, Sebastian Shaw's mother has a heart condition. Let her go. Whatever your problem is, take it out on me!" Julian grinned. "Stella Sinclair, do you have any idea who Sebastian Shaw is? You so much as breathe his name, and he could erase you from the face of the earth." "You want me to let the old bag go? Fine. Slap yourself. Beg my forgiveness." "Actually, wait—two isn't enough. Keep slapping until I say stop." Vivienne shouted, "Don't you dare! You little bastard, I'll never let this go!" Before the words had left her mouth, Julian's foot was already swinging toward her chest. I let go of the kids and threw myself around Vivienne. His foot connected—hard enough that I thought my ribs had snapped.