The Forsaken Bride

​"No! I can't! I won't have an abortion!" Elena Vance reflexively refused, the doctor's warning echoing in her mind: an abortion in her weakened state would leave her permanently infertile.

​As soon as the words left her mouth, a heavy ceramic teacup flew across the room, striking Elena's forehead. The skin split instantly. Blood mixed with scalding tea, trailing down her pale cheek in a gruesome streak. Already frail from years of forced blood draws, the impact sent her collapsing onto the carpet.

​"...Cillian Thorne? Why did you bring me here? What does my pregnancy have to do with you?" Elena's voice was hoarse with desperation. She remembered her cousin mentioning that Cillian was the "Emperor of the Capital" and was set to marry into the Vance family. But because Cillian was wheelchair-bound and her sister was already involved with Jackson Reed, the family had been in an uproar.

​Cillian stared at her, his gaze like a predatory animal. "Mrs. Thorne, you've been running from our wedding for a month. It was quite a challenge to track you down."

​"And yet, you've spent that month carrying a bastard in your belly," he added, his voice devoid of any warmth. He flicked the medical report at her face. The sharp paper edges left red marks on her skin, joining the blood from her forehead.

​A terrifying realization washed over Elena. The Vance family, unwilling to sacrifice their favored daughter to a "disabled" man, must have used Elena as a substitute. Cillian believed she had fled the wedding because she was already pregnant by another man.

​The Devil's Mercy

​"Don't you have anything to say?" Cillian asked coldly. "Or do you want to head straight to the operating table?"

​Elena bit her lip until it bled. She was trapped. Cillian suddenly barked, "Come here!"

​Terrified, Elena approached him. Despite being in a wheelchair, Cillian's presence felt like a mountain looming over her. Suddenly, he reached out and jerked her into his lap. The faint, sweet scent of her skin stirred a flicker of familiarity in him-it was so similar to the woman from that night. But he dismissed it instantly. That girl had been innocent; Elena, according to the rumors, was a "vulgar social climber."

​He gripped her chin so hard she could barely breathe. "If you get rid of the child, maybe I'll keep you around as a pet," he whispered cruelly.

​"I won't do it... I can't," Elena sobbed. "The surgery will kill me!"

​Cillian scoffed, "You don't have much longer to live anyway." He turned toward the door. "Philip Woods! Prepare the OB-GYN unit. I want the procedure done immediately."

​The Operating Room

​Elena was dragged from the room and forced into a black car. At the hospital, she was surrounded by bodyguards and shoved onto a cold, metallic operating table. The sterile smell and the bright lights triggered her deepest traumas the years she spent being bled dry for her sister.

​Under Cillian's orders, her hands and feet were bound. A cloth was stuffed into her mouth to silence her screams. She could only watch through a blur of tears as Cillian wheeled himself into the corner of the room to watch the procedure personally. He was a monster, far more ruthless than any Vance she had ever known.

​"Prepare for the ultrasound and the anesthesia," the doctor commanded. "Followed by a full curettage."

​Elena shook her head frantically, her eyes pleading with Cillian for mercy. He remained a statue of ice. As the anesthesiologist approached with a long needle, Elena let out a muffled scream. She knew that if she went under, with her current health, she might never wake up again.

​The needle pierced her skin, and the world began to tilt into darkness.