My Traitor Fiancé His Secret Heir

The day before I was supposed to walk down the aisle, my best friend Sophia and I were kidnapped by a cartel and dragged to a remote island off the coast of Colombia.

My fiancé, Ethan Cole, a former Navy EOD specialist, planned a secret mercenary rescue.

But the plan went to hell.

The cartel leader strapped a vest of explosives to my chest. And as the rescue chopper’s blades beat the humid air, Ethan looked at Sophia, her body wracked with tremors, and then he looked at me, a human time bomb. To calm her, he didn’t hesitate. He swept Sophia into his arms and carried her onto the helicopter.

Leaving me behind to wait for a rescue that never came.

For six years, I was the cartel kingpin’s property. I carried four of his children. None of them survived.

Then came the fifth pregnancy. An ultrasound confirmed it was a boy, and the monster holding me captive finally loosened his grip, allowing me to be moved to a mainland hospital to ensure the heir’s survival.

It was the only chance I’d ever had. I made contact with an undercover DEA agent, feeding him everything I knew. Together, we brought the entire network down.

I came home, my body a wreck, my belly swollen, only to find Ethan at that same hospital, his arm wrapped gently around Sophia as she got her own prenatal check-up.

His face turned to stone when he saw me. “Why couldn’t you have just stayed gone?” he asked, his voice a low growl.

My own voice was a trembling whisper. “But Ethan… you said you’d never give up on me.”

1

I stumbled after him, my fingers just grazing the sleeve of his jacket. He turned, and the look in his eyes was so cold it burned, a frost that seeped straight into my bones. My whole body shuddered. My legs gave out, and I collapsed in a heap against the cold tile of the hallway wall.

“Why?”

I tilted my head back, looking up at Ethan and Sophia, who stood over me like twin statues carved from ice. The question that had been buried in my heart for six years finally clawed its way out.

Six years I had scraped by, surviving moment to moment on a forgotten island, and I come home to find my fiancé cradling another woman’s baby bump, planning the lavish wedding that was supposed to have been ours.

Ethan pulled Sophia closer, shielding her behind him. His brow was knitted, a flicker of something—pity? memory?—in his eyes. For a second, I thought he might reach down for me. But then his gaze dropped to the gentle swell of Sophia’s stomach, and that flicker of warmth vanished.

“Just let it go, Evelyn,” he said, his voice devoid of any emotion. “I’ve done more than enough for you.”

His eyes, full of contempt, swept over my own pregnant belly.

I forced a smile that felt more like a grimace, a desperate, pleading thing. My voice shook uncontrollably. “Ethan, please, let me explain… The baby… none of this is what you think. I wrote to you, didn't you get my letters? You have to know…”

I was naive enough to think it was just my "unholy" child he couldn't stand.

My words only made his frown deepen. Before he could speak, Sophia cut in with a soft, mournful sigh.

“Evie, don’t do this to yourself,” she said, her hand resting protectively on her stomach. Her face was a mask of profound sorrow. “Six years ago, when the Cole family’s company was on the verge of bankruptcy, you staged your own kidnapping with criminals to try and get your hands on Ethan’s shares.”

“He nearly bankrupted himself trying to raise the money to save you,” she continued, her voice breaking with theatrical pain. “And you… you chose to stay with that man, all for money and a life of luxury.”

She paused, letting the poison sink in before delivering the final, unthinkable blow. “The scandal… the shock of it killed his grandmother.”

A roar filled my ears, and the world went white.

Staged it myself? For his shares? Killed his grandmother?

Sophia kept talking, her gentle voice a swarm of needles piercing my heart. In her version of the story, I was a monster, a manipulative, black-hearted villain.

When she finished, she put on an air of magnanimous grace. “But don’t you worry. What’s past is past. If you’ll let us, Ethan and I will give you a generous sum. Enough to make sure you’re comfortable for the rest of your life.”

“Hah.” A humorless, disgusted sound escaped Ethan’s lips. He took a step back, pulling Sophia with him. He took her hand, his voice softening as he spoke to her. “You’re too kind, Soph. Always have been. If you hadn’t been there for me… I don’t know what I would have become.” He looked back at me, his face hard again. “Let’s go. Don’t waste another breath on a woman like her. It’s not worth it.”

I was frozen, my lips sealed shut as if by glue. I couldn't form a single word.

“But you were the one who took her!” The words burst out of me in a desperate, wounded shout, tears finally streaming down my face. “You put Sophia on the helicopter and left me on that island to work as an informant!”

Ethan just laughed, a bitter, self-mocking sound. He said I was always the same, always shifting blame, always painting myself as a hero. He was tired of it.

I tried to speak again, to force the story of those six years of humiliation and struggle past my lips. But a sharp, twisting pain erupted in my abdomen, stealing my breath and draining all the strength from my body.

My hand flew to my belly, trembling. I felt a sticky warmth spreading through my clothes. The pain intensified, a heavy, pulling sensation deep inside.

I looked down. A bright, crimson river was trickling down my inner thigh, dripping, drop by drop, onto the pristine white floor.

“Doctor! Somebody get a doctor!”

The sight of the blood shattered Ethan’s composure. His shout was raw, instinctive.

But Sophia leaned in close, whispering something urgent in his ear, words only for him.

The last trace of panic on Ethan’s face evaporated. He retracted every ounce of concern, turned his back on me, and walked away without a second glance.

I watched him go, the air growing thin in my lungs. The world began to spin, and my consciousness sank into a deep, welcoming darkness.

As they wheeled me into the operating room, I vaguely heard a nurse’s anxious voice.

“What do we do? The next of kin outside says she’s allergic to anesthesia!”

“But she’s this far along… a D&C without anesthesia? The pain will kill her!”

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