They Killed My Twins A Wife's Revenge Against Her Husband's Family

"Don't worry, I won't make you wait twenty years to have another one. Just get rid of this baby first, and I'll talk to my mom and my sister. I'll convince them to let you try again soon."

He leaned close to my ear, his voice barely above a whisper. "Come on, Edith. I have a low sperm count, not zero. Worst case, you tough it out for a few more years. You'll get pregnant again."

My heart went cold. Ice cold.

Three years ago, the premarital physical had revealed his low sperm count. He'd cried that day, helpless and pitiful, terrified I'd leave him.

I chose to marry him anyway, because I couldn't bear to throw away three years of love.

To protect his pride, I let everyone assume the fertility problems were mine.

Three years. Eighteen rounds of IVF. Each one stripped a layer off me, body and soul. And all I got in return was his not complaining and his worst case, a few more years.

A laugh tore out of me, sudden and raw, tears streaming down my face.

"Sunny is your mother's whole world, and your sister treats him like her lifeline. So why isn't my baby my lifeline?"

I tried to grab his collar, but my fingers trembled so badly I couldn't grip anything.

"Victor, do you understand this might be your only child? Are you really that heartless?"

Something flickered in his eyes. He turned to face his mother.

"Mom, maybe we should keep the baby. It wasn't easy for Edith to get pregnant. We can raise Sunny ourselves. Whatever conditions Jeanette has, we'll agree to all of them."

Theresa exchanged a glance with Jeanette, then softened her tone.

"I don't want to lose my grandchild either. Your sister's just worried that once Edith has her own baby, she'll neglect Sunny. How about this: to put your sister's mind at ease, have Edith sign an asset-transfer agreement. Everything goes to Sunny. Then the baby can stay."

Jeanette immediately produced a document and shoved it in my face.

"Sign it."

"Babe, just look it over," Victor said. "If there's anything they don't know about, hand it over too. Give my mom and sister some peace of mind."

I stared at the agreement, numb. Every asset I owned was listed in meticulous detail.

A twenty-one-hundred-square-foot luxury apartment in a top school district. Value: $3 million.

Two commercial storefronts in the downtown business district, each over a thousand square feet. Combined value: $20 million.

A beauty clinic. Value: $5 million.

Fixed deposits across three major banks. $4 million.

A Mercedes. Seven ounces of gold. Appliances, furniture...

Everything from real estate and savings down to the smallest household item, documented with surgical precision.

I hadn't even realized I owned this much.

The final clause stood out like a brand.

All assets to be managed by the legal guardian on behalf of the minor. Designated guardian: Jeanette Chavez.

A voice screamed inside my head, and suddenly it all made sense.

Getting rid of the baby was just the excuse. Seizing my assets was the real goal.

I lifted my head and locked eyes with Victor, my teeth clenched so hard my jaw ached.

"Victor. For this, you'd sacrifice your own child's life?"

His gaze darted away. "Babe, you said the baby was your whole life, right? Trading everything you own for the baby's life... that's a fair deal."

The blood drained from my face. I snatched the agreement and hurled it to the floor.

"I won't sign. This is my premarital property. It has nothing to do with any of you. This is extortion, and I will press charges."

Jeanette erupted. She seized a fistful of my hair and slapped me across the face, once, twice, three times, until my skull rang like a bell.

"Shut your filthy mouth, you little tramp! You belong to the Chavez family. That means your money belongs to the Chavez family!"

She grabbed my hand and forced it down onto the red ink pad.

"I was being nice, giving you a choice. Now press your thumbprint and sign before I stop being polite."

Her grip was terrifying. I felt the bones in my wrist grinding together, ready to snap.