Losing Her Twins, the Billionaire Heiress Seeks Vengeance

“From today on, Chloe and her son will be living here. Clear out the master bedroom and make sure everything is childproofed by tonight.”

The cold, commanding voice of my husband, Damon Salvatore, echoed through the grand foyer the moment I pushed open the heavy oak doors.

I froze in the entryway.

The dull, throbbing ache in my lower back—a fresh reminder of the thick needle that had pierced my bone just an hour ago—suddenly felt entirely insignificant.

For five years, I had secretly lain on a cold hospital bed, letting doctors extract my bone marrow to keep Damon alive from a rare, aggressive blood disease. I endured the bone-deep agony so he wouldn’t have to.

I thought my silent sacrifices were the foundation of our marriage.

But right now, standing in the center of our living room, the man I had bled for was holding a three-year-old boy with a gentleness I had never seen.

Standing right beside him, looking like the perfect, delicate picture of a family, was Chloe.

Damon’s first love.

I gripped the strap of my handbag, my knuckles turning white, and forced my pale, exhausted legs to carry me forward.

“Damon,” my voice was hoarse. “What is going on here?”

Damon didn’t even look up at first. He carefully set the little boy down on the plush rug, patting his head, before finally turning his dark, emotionless eyes toward me.

“Exactly what you heard,” he said, his tone flat. “Chloe is moving in.”

“Katherine… I’m so sorry to intrude,” she said softly, her voice trembling just the right amount. “I didn’t want to cause trouble between you two. But my apartment was broken into, and Leo was so scared… Damon insisted we come here.”

She reached out and lightly grasped Damon’s sleeve.

“She isn’t intruding,” Damon cut in, his voice hardening as he looked at me. “Chloe is a single mother. She has nowhere else safe to go. I am taking responsibility for her and the boy.”

“Responsibility?” I asked, my voice shaking despite my best efforts to keep it steady. “You are a married man, Damon. You want to move your ex-girlfriend and her child into our home? Into our bedroom?”

Damon let out a short, mocking laugh.

“Don’t use that word with me, Katherine. You know exactly why she is here.”

He looked at Chloe, his eyes softening in a way that made my chest physically ache.

“Five years ago, I was trapped in that warehouse fire,” Damon said, his voice dropping to a reverent murmur. “Everyone else ran. But Chloe rushed into the flames and dragged me out. She saved my life. I owe her everything.”

My breath hitched.

The room seemed to spin, the edges of my vision blurring.

My fingernails dug so hard into my palms that they nearly pierced the skin.

Damon looked at Chloe like she was a goddess who had descended from the heavens to pull him from hell.

He didn’t know that the woman who had charged into that collapsing, blazing warehouse wasn’t Chloe.

It was me.

He didn’t know that beneath the high-collared, long-sleeved silk dresses I wore every single day, my back and shoulders were covered in hideous, twisted burn scars.

I had hidden them because I wanted Damon to look at me with love, not pity or disgust. I had let Chloe take the credit back then because she was his girlfriend at the time, and I was just the quiet girl standing in the background.

I thought my silent devotion would eventually win his heart.

“You owe her your life,” I repeated, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. “So you’re going to throw your wife out of her own bedroom to repay her?”

“Wife?”

He sneered, stepping toward me. The sheer disdain in his eyes made me instinctively take a step back.

“Did you really think playing house for five years made it real, Katherine?”

I stared at him, my mind going blank. “What are you talking about?”

“The marriage certificate,” Damon said coldly, delivering the words like a judge handing down a death sentence. “Did you honestly believe I would willingly marry a woman my grandfather forced on me?”

The blood drained from my face.

“My grandfather wanted you in this family, so he had the paperwork forged to keep you quiet and satisfied,” Damon continued, his voice devoid of any mercy. “I never signed it. Legally, Katherine, you are nothing to me. You are a guest who has overstayed her welcome.”

A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the grand hall.

Even Chloe seemed to hold her breath, though the faint, triumphant curve of her lips betrayed her.

Legally nothing.

Five years of pouring my blood, my bone marrow, and my dignity into this man.

In that moment, the baby in Chloe’s arms let out a small whine. Damon immediately turned his attention away from me, his harsh features melting into gentle concern as he reached out to soothe the boy.

I looked at the man I had loved with my entire life.

Suddenly, the desperate, agonizing pain in my chest went completely quiet.

I was just too tired. So incredibly drained that I didn't even have the energy to cry or argue anymore.

“Ma’am…” The head butler stepped forward, his forehead slick with sweat. He looked at me with pity. “Should we… should we pack your things for the guest room?”

Damon didn’t even look back at me. He was too busy wiping a stray tear from Chloe’s cheek.

“Move her things to the smallest room in the north wing,” Damon ordered without turning around. “Chloe doesn’t like the smell of her perfume. Make sure the master suite is completely sanitized.”

The servants hesitated, their eyes darting toward me, waiting for the inevitable breakdown. They were waiting for me to scream, to cry, to beg him to remember our five years together.

But I didn't.

I stood perfectly straight, ignoring the sharp, shooting pain in my spine.

“No need to move them to the north wing,” I said, my voice so calm it felt like it belonged to a stranger.

Damon finally paused, glancing over his shoulder with a frown, expecting a fight.

I met his gaze dead on.

“Pack my things,” I told the butler smoothly. “And have them sent to the front door. I’ll be leaving.”

Damon’s brow furrowed, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before it settled back into a cold sneer. He clearly thought I was just throwing a tantrum, playing a new trick to get his attention.

“Suit yourself,” he scoffed, turning back to Chloe. “Let’s see how long you last out there.”