The Betrayed Bride's Ultimate Retribution

Evelyn POV:

The news spread like wildfire through the consortium' s elite circles, barely three months after Belen and Dedric' s hurried marriage. Belen was pregnant.

Three months. That was impossibly fast, even for human gestation. For a pure-blood like Dedric, it usually took longer. My stomach churned with a strange mix of suspicion and morbid curiosity.

I saw her myself at a public luncheon hosted by the Morgan family. There was no denying it. Belen' s belly was already noticeably rounded, far too much for a mere three months. She glowed with a triumphant, arrogant pride.

The Morgan family, despite the recent scandal with Dedric almost losing his engagement to me, was now in full celebration. Dedric, puffed up with self-importance, beamed at everyone, accepting congratulations as if he had personally orchestrated a miracle. This child, he clearly believed, was his ticket to reclaiming his family's prestige and securing his bid for Chairman.

The guests, a flock of social vultures, cooed and fawned over Belen, offering sycophantic praise. Everyone assumed this child would be the definitive "first heir," the future leader. No one even considered the possibility of an alternative. The path to power seemed clear for Dedric.

Ingram and I were seated at a table near the back, a deliberate choice on my part to avoid the spotlight. But fate, or perhaps Belen's innate need for an audience, intervened. She spotted me.

Her eyes, gleaming with malice, found mine across the crowded room. She sauntered over, Dedric in tow, her hand protectively cradling her belly.

"Evelyn, darling," she purred, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. "Fancy meeting you here. I hope you're not too... lonely, back here in the shadows." Her gaze flickered pointedly to my flat stomach. "Some of us are just built to carry on the legacy, aren't we?"

She knew my history, my past struggles with conception, a cruel irony given the painful lengths I' d gone to in my last life for Dedric' s sake. She thought she was hitting a raw nerve.

But I knew something she didn't. Half-beast offspring, if conceived with certain human bloodlines, could develop at an accelerated rate. It explained her rapid pregnancy, but it also hinted at things far more complex, and far more dangerous.

It also meant a much more difficult birth. I remembered the agony of my own childbirth in my past life, prolonged and brutal, endured alone while Dedric was off securing his political alliances. Belen, in her ignorance, thought she was simply fast-tracking her success. She had no idea of the true cost.

I looked at Belen' s swollen belly, a deep sense of pity, not for her, but for the innocent life she was so carelessly using as a weapon. My own children in my past life, innocent pawns in a cruel game. My love for them had been pure, unconditional, never transactional. Belen could never understand that.

"Congratulations, Belen," I said, my voice calm, betraying none of the turmoil within me. "Such... rapid progress. It truly is remarkable."

My words were innocuous enough, but the subtle emphasis on "rapid" and "remarkable" seemed to hit a nerve. Belen's confident facade wavered. Her eyes flickered away, a tell-tale sign of unease.

"Well, some of us are just naturally... efficient," she stammered, recovering quickly, though her voice was a little too high-pitched. She was trying to appear nonchalant, but I could see the sweat beading on her forehead.

"Indeed," I murmured, taking a sip of my wine. "I do hope everything goes smoothly, Belen. Certain... expedited processes can sometimes lead to unforeseen complications, wouldn't you agree?"

Her eyes widened, a flash of genuine fear in them. She tried to laugh it off, but the sound was forced, unnatural. She wasn't used to anyone questioning her reality, especially not me. She expected me to wilt, not to subtly prod at her insecurities.

She looked at Dedric, a desperate plea in her eyes. Dedric, however, was already turning his attention back to the more important guests, leaving Belen to flounder. She was losing her grip, her composure slipping away.

I set my glass down. "Well, I wish you all the best, Belen. May you have exactly what you deserve."

I rose from the table, Ingram rising with me, his hand once again resting protectively on my back. We walked away, leaving Belen standing there, her face a mixture of triumph, fear, and a dawning uncertainty.