My Husband Brought His Assistant to Watch Me Give Birth

1
I was in labor. My husband, Marcus, insisted on being in the delivery room. He wanted to be the one to cut the cord, to witness the miracle. Everyone called Marcus Wright the husband of the decade.
Then, halfway through the most excruciating pain of my life, he walked in with his young, pretty assistant. She was curious, he said, and wanted to watch.
Through the agony of being nine centimeters dilated, I bit my lip until it bled. "Get her out!"
The assistant, Zoe, stared at the most private part of me, her eyes wide with a mixture of horror and morbid fascination.
"Wow," she breathed, loud enough for the whole room to hear. "It can stretch that wide? You could probably fit two fists in there!"
She turned to Marcus. "Mr. Wright, should I book Sarah a 'tightening' surgery for after?"
Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Such a shame. It'll probably never go back to the way it was..."
Seven hours of torment later, a babys cry filled the room.
After congratulating me, the nurse held up our daughter. "Dad can come see his little girl now."
My eyes were webbed with broken blood vessels. I raised a trembling hand.
"Don't show her to him."
"He's not her father anymore."
...
"Sarah!"
"Do you have any idea what you're saying?"
The delivery room fell silent. The joy on Marcus's face evaporated, replaced by a cold hardness. His grip on my hand tightened.
"You've been through a lot. You're not thinking clearly right now. Once you've rested, we can"
"I am thinking perfectly clearly."
"The ones who need to get the hell out are you and your assistant."
My entire body was shaking, a storm of pain and fury. The tearing sensation between my legs was a physical echo of my heart splitting in two.
Marcus's expression iced over. "Sarah, are you saying these things just to hurt me? Is this because I brought Zoe in?"
Zoe flinched, hiding behind him with tears welling in her eyes.
"I'm so sorry, Sarah! I begged Mr. Wright to let me come. Please don't blame him!"
"I just... I speak my mind. If what I said upset you, you can hit me..."
Before she finished, Marcus instinctively stepped forward, shielding her completely.
"Sarah, you were her age once. Why make things difficult for a girl in her twenties?"
"This is the day our child was born. It's supposed to be a happy occasion."
He reached out to touch my sweat-soaked face. "Don't be difficult, okay?"
I laughed, the sound brittle and bitter.
In my twenties, I was working myself to the bone to help Marcus secure his position at my family's company, Stea Industries. I had three miscarriages from the stress and exhaustion.
Back then, Marcus had knelt by my hospital bed, his eyes red, and sworn to me, "Sarah, I promise, I will become a man worthy of you. I will protect you for the rest of our lives!"
Now, our fourth child was finally born, healthy and screaming.
And he was shielding another twenty-year-old girl, telling me to behave.
I gripped the bedrail, my heart a dead weight in my chest. "Marcus, that vow is broken. Is there any point to this marriage anymore?"
"We're getting a divorce. Don't make me say it again."
"I don't agree."
His voice was cold and firm. "Sarah, this is our daughter's birthday. Why do you have to make such an ugly scene?"
With the last of my strength, I ripped the diamond ring from my finger and threw it at his face.
"That's hilarious. You think I, Sarah Stea, need your permission to get a divorce?!"
"You are no longer her father."
The nurses began wheeling my bed out. Through the blur of the IV drip, I saw Zoe collapse into Marcus's arms, sobbing. He wrapped his jacket around her, holding her close. And then, as my world faded, they started kissing.

2.
Back in the recovery room, my lawyer was already there.
Marcus was refusing the divorce. He would see me in court.
"Fine," I nodded, dialing a number on my phone. "If he wants a war, he'll get one."
I spoke into the receiver. "Yes. Let's meet."
"I want Marcus Wright out of Stea Industries. I never want to see his face again."
After hanging up, I picked up my sleeping daughter. Her features were so much like his; it was disorienting. I had been so overjoyed to be pregnant with her, enduring the weight gain and morning sickness without a single complaint...
All I had wanted was to keep a shred of dignity. Instead, at my most vulnerable moment, I had been turned into a spectacle.
My phone buzzed, shattering the quiet. "Sarah, what the hell did you do?!"
It was Marcus, his voice laced with a fury I had never heard before.
"What's wrong?" I bit out. "Finally have time to discuss the divorce?"
"Don't play dumb with me!" he roared. "Why did you have Zoe kidnapped?"
"You just became a mother! How can you stand by and watch another woman miscarry? She could die!"
A gasp of icy air filled my lungs.
So, Zoe was pregnant with his child. All this time, while I was enduring my own difficult pregnancy, dreaming of our future, he was creating another one.
"Marcus, I don't know anything about a kidnapping. And I have no interest in your little girlfriend's drama."
He was silent for a moment. "You'd better be telling the truth. If anything happens to Zoe, I will make you pay for it tenfold!"
He hung up. The threat lingered in the air.
A nurse who had overheard the call looked at me with awkward pity.
"Mrs. Wright... whatever is going on, please try to rest. Your tearing was severe. You need to focus on healing."
I thanked her and took the care instructions.
The next day, our family's driver came to take us home. I had him put the baby in the car while I gave my lawyer some final instructions.
My demand was simple: Marcus gets nothing. Not a single penny.
"Understood, Ms. Stea, but..." The lawyer took the file, his eyes darting nervously behind me.
Suddenly, a hand clamped over my mouth. A group of men grabbed me, dragging me into a waiting van.
"Our boss said if Zoe doesn't come back, you're going down with her!" one of them snarled.
"I can't believe the great Sarah Stea would stoop to kidnapping. You're disgusting!"
They were rough, their bodies pressing hard against my abdomen, which was still tender and swollen from childbirth. A wave of agony washed over me, and I blacked out.
I don't know how long I was out. When the blindfold was ripped from my eyes, I was staring at a bright screen.
In the video, Zoe was on the floor, the white dress she wore stained with blood. Men were kicking her stomach over and over. She looked like a broken doll.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Stea, I was wrong..." she sobbed. "I'll never say those things again! Please, let me go!"
The video cut to black.
Marcus stepped out of the shadows, his eyes stripped of their usual warmth.
He grabbed my chin. "Sarah, have I been too lenient with you? Is that why you've become so cold and cruel you'd harm an unborn child?"
"Tell me. Where is Zoe?"
I met his gaze, my own as cold as ice. "I don't know."
He didn't believe me.
He leaned in closer. "Sarah, for the sake of everything we were, I'm giving you one last chance."
"I. Don't. Know."
Seeing my defiance, a cruel smile touched his lips. "Still as stubborn as ever."
At his command, I was dragged into a sterile, white room. It looked like an operating theater.
"Let me go! Marcus, this is illegal imprisonment!"
I struggled, but my limbs were strapped to a table. I was completely helpless.
"Well then," his voice echoed from above me, "that 'repair' surgery Zoe booked for you? Let's get it done today."
The doctor hesitated. "Mr. Wright, your wife just gave birth yesterday! This is far too soon..."
Marcus was silent for a long moment. He glanced at the video of Zoe, then his voice turned to steel.
"Don't give her any anesthesia. I want her wide awake for the entire procedure."
"She can stay like this until she's ready to talk."

3.
"I'm sorry, ma'am."
With the doctor's sigh, a cold, sharp blade touched my skin.
The first cut sent a tremor through my very soul.
With the second, my body no longer felt like my own.
Pain, white-hot and absolute, consumed me. But I clung to one thought: the person I had called for help would find me. I just had to hold on.
"Talk, Sarah."
"Or this is going to get much, much worse."
I bit my lip, forcing the agony to keep me conscious. When Marcus leaned close, I spat a mouthful of blood and whispered, "Marcus, if I wanted to destroy Zoe, I'd have her blacklisted from every company in New York. I'd make her crawl out of this city like the pathetic stray she is."
"Kidnapping? That's your level, not mine."
He froze. For a second, a flicker of hope ignited within me. He gently stroked my thigh.
His voice was soft, just like when we first met, but his words were chilling.
"It's been ten years, Sarah. You're not the untouchable Stea heiress anymore, and I'm not that poor boy you picked up."
"Don't think I'll fall for that act."
Then, a sharp prick in my arm.
"Adrenaline," he ordered. "Don't let her pass out."
The world, which had been blurring at the edges, snapped back into sharp, agonizing focus. The scalpel continued its work, and I was powerless to even faint.
"Mr. Wright! Mr. Wright!"
Someone was pounding on the door.
It burst open, and Zoe stumbled in, her dress soaked in blood.
"It's me! I'm back! Marcus, help me..."
"Zoe!"
His eyes filled with shock and relief. He rushed to her, scooping her into his arms as she began to scream her accusations.
"Those men... they made me apologize for what I said in the delivery room!"
"They kicked my stomach! They said if they kicked it enough, the baby would just fall out..."
Her gaze locked onto me, her eyes burning with hatred.
"You bitch! I said one thing, and you tried to kill me and my baby!"
Just then, the main doors to the suite swung open again.
Marcus strode toward me.
"Sarah, Zoe has a sharp tongue, but that's all it is. And for that, you had her brutalized?"
"You think because you're a Stea, you can decide who lives and who dies?!"
"Apologize to her. Now."
I stared past him at the open door. There was nothing but Zoe's blood trail. No one else was coming.
Had Marcus truly covered his tracks so perfectly? Was no one going to find me?
"No."
Blood was pooling beneath me. I forced the word out through gritted teeth.
"I will never apologize for something I didn't do."
Marcus's fist clenched at his side.
I had only ever seen him this angry twice. The first time was after my third miscarriage; he hated himself for being too powerless to protect me.
The second time was now.
"Fine. Very well."
"This was your last chance, Sarah. You threw it away."
The door opened one last time. A large man walked in, holding a bundle.
I heard a baby's cry.
"What... what is that..."
My eyes flew open in terror. It was my daughter. She was supposed to be safe at home.

4.
"You're so naive, Sarah."
"In all my years at Stea Industries, I learned to always have a backup plan."
Marcus's eyes were filled with pure venom.
"Marcus, you monster... she's your daughter!"
At the word "daughter," his face grew even colder.
"How do I know that? Zoe told me she's seen you with another man this past year."
I gasped, a wave of nausea and fury rising in my throat.
"You can't touch her!"
He ignored my pleas. "Apologize to Zoe. This is your final chance."
At his signal, the man holding my daughter lifted her into the air.
"You don't want to see our child smashed on the floor, do you?"
He smiled, and began a cruel countdown.
"Five... four... three..."
Time was running out. I was breaking. My daughterthe child I had lost three times, the child I carried for ten monthsshe was a part of me. How could I watch this happen?
My vision went red. A scream was trapped in my throat, silent and suffocating.
Just as the man prepared to drop her
BANG!
A gunshot cracked through the air.
The man collapsed. The baby fell, but was caught securely in a pair of strong arms.
"Marcus. Who gave you the nerve?"
The man was smiling, but it was a terrifying sight. Marcus was frozen in place. "Caleb Sterling?"
He tried to regain his composure. "I'm with my wife for her surgery. What are you doing here?"
Caleb walked to my side, gently shifting my daughter to one arm and scooping me up with the other. My blood soaked into his expensive jacket, dripping onto the pristine floor.
"I've known Sarah Stea for twenty years," he said, his voice dangerously low. "I have never seen her bleed this much."
His lips were curved, but his eyes held a chilling, manic glint. He was the one man in New York's high society that no one dared to cross, a "mad dog" in a bespoke suit. But as he heard my pained groan, his expression softened.
"Caleb... it hurts..."
"I know. Don't be scared. I'm getting you out of here."
The room was now filled with Caleb's men. His cold gaze swept over the scene, landing on Zoe. She was immediately seized and thrown back into the operating room.
Caleb gestured to the bloody table. "I believe you had an appointment for a 'repair' surgery?"
"Since you're so fond of the idea, why not try it yourself?"
"Oh, and remember. No anesthesia."
Zoe's face was chalk-white. She clung to Marcus's sleeve. "Mr. Wright, save me! It'll kill me..."
But this time, no one could save her.
As Caleb carried me out, his eyelashes fluttered.
"Sarah, hold on."
"Your daughter is waiting for you at home."
He rushed me to the best hospital in the city. When the doctors lifted the blanket covering me, they audibly gasped.
"Severe postpartum tearing, massive hemorrhaging... My God, what happened to her?!"
My gurney raced down the emergency corridor, machines beeping frantically. Caleb ran alongside, his hand never leaving the rail, until the very last second.
"Sir, we're going into the trauma unit!"
"You have to let go!"
In the split second before the doors swung shut, I grabbed his hand. "Don't worry," I rasped. "I won't die until they've all paid."
"Please... take care of my daughter..."
As my eyes closed, I heard Caleb's resolute voice.
"I'll be waiting for you, Sarah Stea."
"And I promise you... everyone who hurt you? I won't let a single one of them go."
"They will beg for a death that will never come. That is their final end."

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