After My Mate Forced a Miscarriage, I Married His Uncle

The gates of Victor's estate swung open, revealing a sprawling mansion of stone and glass. As the car wound up the driveway, I pressed my palm against the window, watching my reflection blur against the passing landscape.

"Welcome home," Victor said, his voice neutral yet somehow reassuring.

Home. The word felt foreign after weeks of hiding in motels and cheap hotels. I touched my mother's locket, drawing strength from it as I stepped out into the crisp autumn air.

"Marcus will show you to your suite," Victor continued, already walking toward the main entrance. "We have work to do."

My "suite" turned out to be a spacious apartment on the east wing—elegant but impersonal, like a luxury hotel room. A wardrobe of new clothes awaited me, all in bold colors and sharp silhouettes nothing like my usual soft, flowing dresses.

"The press will be watching," Victor explained later that afternoon, as a stylist named Philippe arranged my hair into a sleek updo. "You need to look the part."

"What part?" I asked, watching my reflection transform.

"Luna," he replied simply.

Philippe nodded approvingly as he finished. "Perfect. You look nothing like the broken Beta who fled her cheating husband."

I flinched at his words, but Victor's expression remained impassive. "That's the point."

---

The charity gala glittered with New York's elite. As Victor's hand settled at the small of my back, guiding me through the grand entrance, cameras flashed like lightning.

"Ready?" he murmured.

I nodded, straightening my shoulders beneath the midnight blue gown that hugged my curves. Diamond earrings—Victor's gift—caught the light as I tilted my head.

"Mrs. Pierce," a reporter called out, "is it true you left your husband for his uncle?"

Victor's arm tightened around my waist. "My nephew's unfortunate behavior toward Lyra has been deeply disappointing to our family," he said smoothly. "The Pierce family takes care of its own."

I stepped forward, my voice steady despite my racing heart. "I'd like to thank Victor for his support during this difficult time. Sometimes the strongest bonds form in the face of adversity."

The questions came rapid-fire after that, but I was prepared. Each answer painted Hayden as the villain—the cheating rogue who'd abandoned his responsibilities. By midnight, #PierceScandal was trending, and Hayden's name was synonymous with betrayal.

---

"Can you believe this?" Blair's voice dripped with disgust as she kicked the tire of their broken-down van. "No air conditioning, no WiFi, and now this?"

Hayden wiped sweat from his brow, his once-pristine designer clothes now wrinkled and stained. "It's just temporary," he insisted, though his voice lacked conviction.

"We've been 'temporary' for three weeks," Blair snapped, scrolling through her phone. "My followers are losing interest. 'Van Life' was supposed to be glamorous, not... this."

Hayden's phone chimed with a notification. His face drained of color as he read it.

"What is it?" Blair demanded.

"My accounts... they're frozen." His voice cracked. "The Pierce Family Office has cut me off."

Blair's eyes narrowed. "What about your trust fund?"

"Also frozen." He ran his hands through his hair—that familiar gesture that once made my heart race. Now it just looked desperate.

"Well, figure it out," she huffed, storming back into the van. "I need a shower."

---

The scent hit me without warning—rich, fruity wine wafting from a nearby table. Suddenly I was back in our penthouse, Hayden's hand pushing the glass toward me.

"Drink it," he'd said. "We can talk when you're not being hysterical."

The room spun. My chest tightened as panic clawed its way up my throat.

"Lyra?" Victor's voice seemed distant.

I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. The wine, the baby, the betrayal—it all crashed over me in waves.

Before I could collapse, Victor swept me into his arms. Through my panic, I registered his expression—not annoyance but concern as he carried me from the restaurant.

"Call Dr. Chen," he barked to someone I couldn't see.

Dr. Sarah Chen arrived at the estate within the hour, her kind eyes and gentle hands a stark contrast to the clinical setting of Victor's study.

"The trauma you've experienced is significant," she said softly as I sat across from her. "The forced miscarriage, the betrayal—these aren't things you can simply move past."

"I feel... unworthy," I admitted, the words burning my throat. "Like I should have seen it coming. Like I deserved it."

Victor stood by the window, his back to us. At my words, his shoulders stiffened almost imperceptibly.

"You did nothing wrong," Dr. Chen assured me. "Hayden's actions were calculated abuse."

As she guided me through breathing exercises, I caught Victor's reflection in the window. His expression had transformed into something cold and deadly.

Later, as Dr. Chen prepared to leave, Victor escorted her to the door.

"How is she?" he asked quietly.

"Struggling," she replied. "But stronger than she knows."

When Victor returned to the study, I was standing by the fireplace, staring into the flames.

"Thank you," I said simply.

He nodded once, then turned away. In that moment, something shifted between us—a current of understanding, perhaps even respect.

"Hayden will pay for what he did to you," Victor said, his voice low and certain. "Not just financially. Not just socially."

I shivered, not entirely sure if it was from fear or anticipation.

"Some debts can only be paid in blood," he continued, his eyes meeting mine in the firelight. "And I intend to collect every drop."