The Stillborn Heirs He Stitched Inside Me Kicked Again

Zareena’s POV

The nurses looked troubled, clearly caught in a bind.

“Ma’am,” one of them said cautiously, “all the doctors in the city have been called to Edison by Sir Sullivan. Ma’am Shannah pricked her finger during a blood draw, and Sir Sullivan got worried something might happen… so he had every doctor stand by, just in case.”

She hesitated, then added softly, “Right now… there are no doctors available in Paterson. Not a single one.”

Terese’s face went pale with fury. She started calling her son again and again, her voice shaking with rage.

“This is madness! His wife is in labor, bleeding out, and he calls every doctor in the city away just to fuss over his mistress? Does he even care if his wife dies?!”

By the tenth call, Sullivan finally picked up, his voice cold and laced with impatience.

“What do you want, Mom? Don’t tell me she’s stirring up more drama and dragging you in to back her up.”

But Terese wasn’t having it. She shouted into the phone, her voice cracking with urgency.

“Your wife’s barely conscious from blood loss! The baby’s already in distress—it’s not getting enough oxygen! And you—you took all the doctors! Are you trying to kill them?”

There was a pause. Then came his low, sarcastic laugh.

“Oh please. Did she tell you to call me? She already gave birth yesterday. Now she’s pretending she’s still in labor? What a joke.”

He clicked his tongue and said dismissively, “Look, I’m busy. I’m taking newborn photos with Shannah and our son. Zareena wants a doctor? Fine, I’ll send someone.”

Terese hung up, gripping my hand tightly with her cold, trembling fingers.

“Don’t be scared, honey. The doctor will be here soon,” she promised, though her voice was full of fear.

I held my swollen belly with both hands, feeling the life inside me slowly grow weaker.

Tears blurred my vision. My whole body was trembling.

And at that moment, the past came rushing back.

In my previous life, this was exactly how my babies had died—sewn shut inside me by Sullivan’s order, suffocated before they even had a chance to breathe.

Fighting through the pain, I reached out and grabbed Terese’s hand. My voice was weak, but I forced the words out anyway.

“Mom, three years ago, when my dad fell into a coma trying to save Sullivan… you promised to treat me like your own daughter. You said… if he ever treated me badly, you’d help me leave him.”

Tears welled up again as I continued, “I’m begging you. Please… help me divorce him. I swear, I won’t get in the way of the woman he loves, or her child being his heir. Mom, I just… I just want my babies to be born safely.”

Her eyes brimmed with tears as she nodded repeatedly.

“Yes, I remember… At first, I just wanted to repay your father’s kindness. I only planned to make you my goddaughter. But it was Sullivan—he’s the one who pursued you. He confessed, he proposed, he said he loved you so much…”

She choked on her own words and shook her head. “How did it end up like this? It’s all that bitch’s fault! If she hadn’t shown up out of nowhere, none of this would’ve happened!”

I let out a bitter laugh, my heart breaking.

‘Yeah. How did we go from childhood sweethearts to this?’

He was the one who, at his coming-of-age celebration, blushed and told me he’d love me forever.

He swore, if he ever betrayed me, he’d suffer a thousand cuts and die a painful death.

And now?

He was doing exactly that to me—slashing me apart, piece by piece, for another woman.

“Please… Mom,” I whispered, every syllable scraped from the bottom of my throat.

Hearing the desperation in my voice, she finally nodded, firm with resolve.

“Alright, honey, alright. When you two got married, I made him sign a divorce agreement. I had it drawn up just in case this day ever came.”

She stood abruptly.

“I’ll go get it right now and push it through immediately. First thing tomorrow, I’ll make an official announcement. You’ll be my only heir.”

Her voice hardened.

“And as for that ungrateful son of mine… I won’t acknowledge him anymore!”

She turned and left in a hurry to take care of everything.

I lay there alone, curled on the hospital bed as the waves of pain crashed through me, harder and sharper each time. I couldn’t stop screaming.

Poppy, the assistant Terese had left behind, was pacing nervously, glancing at the door again and again, probably praying the doctor Sullivan promised would show up soon.

Finally, someone did arrive.

But it wasn’t a doctor.

It was a fucking delivery guy!

He stepped into the room, only to freeze at the sight of the blood soaking through the sheets. His face went pale. Hesitantly, he held out a plastic bag.

Something tumbled out—a sanitary pad and a Band-Aid.

“M-Ma’am… s-sir Sullivan said,” the guy stammered, “it’s just… It’s just postpartum bleeding. N-Nothing fatal. He said… clean yourself up… and stop using stuff like this to gross him out.”