His Nine Forged Truths

I was kidnapped while we were in Vermont celebrating our fifth wedding anniversary.

A month later, I found out I was pregnant.

The result was nine DNA reports, each one coldly declaring that the child in my womb had no relation to my husband, Sterling Hawthorne.

He put on a show of loyalty and heartbreak by having a vasectomy.

In the abyss of guilt, I tried to end my own life six different ways.

Until the day I drifted like a ghost to his study door and overheard a conversation between him and his friend.

His friend asked if it was worth it—orchestrating my kidnapping, framing me for carrying another man's child, and forging nine DNA reports, all to bury a sex tape scandal for some influencer named Cassidy Shaw. He asked Sterling if he wasn't afraid I'd actually lose my mind.

Sterling let out a soft laugh, his charming, cold voice carrying through the door. "Juliet loves me more than life itself. Even if she found out, she would forgive me."

In that moment, I understood. All the hell I had endured was nothing but a script he had meticulously orchestrated for another woman.

The next second, he opened the door and, acting as if nothing had happened, pulled my cold body into his warm embrace, whispering in my ear, "Darling, come with me to my mother's charity gala."

Later, at the gala, my assistant accidentally bumped into Cassidy. Sterling instantly swept the woman into his arms. The lips that had once whispered words of love to me now spoke the most venomous words:

"If anything happens to the child in her womb, I'll kill you."

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1

I was kidnapped during a trip to Vermont, on what was supposed to be my fifth wedding anniversary.

A month later, I discovered I was pregnant.

I insisted I had never been assaulted.

But nine DNA reports from different labs all concluded that the child in my womb shared no genetic link with my husband, Sterling Hawthorne.

He immediately underwent a vasectomy. It was a public performance of his devotion, a declaration that it didn't matter the child wasn't his.

But I was drowning in a tidal wave of guilt.

After every hypnotherapy session, I would wake up screaming from nightmares of being violated.

I sank into a deep depression and attempted suicide six times.

After my sixth failed attempt, I drifted from my room, barefoot and spectral.

When I reached the study door, I heard Sterling—the man who had sworn he couldn't live without me—laughing with a friend.

"Sterling, you staged Juliet’s kidnapping and framed her, all to bury a sex tape for that influencer you sponsor, Cassidy Shaw. Don't you think that's taking things too far?"

"And nine fake DNA reports? Aren't you afraid your wife will completely lose her mind if she ever finds out?"

"Relax. She'll never find out. Besides, she loves me so much, she'd forgive me even if she knew." A faint, unreadable smile played on Sterling's lips, his eyes calm and detached.

"Once Cassidy gives birth, she'll go to Europe. My father entrusted her to my care before he died. Protecting her is just me keeping a promise. There's nothing between us."

His friend raised his glass, a mix of admiration and resignation in his toast.

"You're a cold bastard, my friend. But I have to admit, it was a brilliant move. Juliet is wrapped around your finger."

At that, Sterling’s expression shifted, a dark, complex emotion flickering in his eyes.

He raised his glass and took a slow sip of whiskey.

"Juliet is important to me. Once this whole mess with Cassidy is over, I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to her."

I gripped the doorframe until my nails splintered in the wood.

My mind went blank. Then, a crushing numbness washed over me.

The kidnapping, the fake DNA reports, the nightmares, the depression, the six attempts on my own life—it was all a lie.

A conspiracy.

Everything was fake.

Cassidy Shaw was an influencer Sterling had sponsored for years. She was always so lovely and sweet, calling me "Juliet" in that gentle, intimate voice of hers.

Yet behind my back, her sex tape had caused an uproar online, drawing endless ridicule.

When Sterling said he wanted to help her, I had agreed without a second thought.

I never imagined his "help" meant making me the scapegoat.

My kidnapping, the fake reports, my child branded a "bastard"...

It was all an elaborate hoax he'd designed to salvage Cassidy's reputation.

The Sterling who once loved me with all his heart was gone. He was dead to me.

The door opened. Sterling must have found my silence unnerving, because he crossed the space between us in an instant and pulled me into his arms.

"Darling, tomorrow is Mom's annual charity gala. Let's go together."