The first sound my premature twins heard outside their incubators was the sharp slap of divorce papers landing against my knees. The second was my husband telling me they were far too weak to be worth the effort of ruining his life.
I stared through the thick glass at Sawyer and Quinn, each one barely larger than my own forearm, their tiny chests fluttering beneath a network of wires and translucent medical tape. Behind me, Weston stood in an expensive charcoal suit, one hand resting possessively on the swollen belly of his mistress, Ashley.
She was wearing my coat.
It was a custom ivory maternity coat I had ordered just weeks before the emergency delivery, meticulously embroidered inside with the initials of my babies. Ashley stroked the soft cashmere sleeve and offered me a saccharine smile.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. “Weston told me you would not be needing it anymore.”
Weston dropped a heavy pen onto the manila folder. “Just sign the papers, Jade.”
My surgical incision burned intensely as I shifted in the uncomfortable hospital chair to face him. I had delivered at twenty-nine weeks, suffered a severe hemorrhage, and spent the previous two days drifting in and out of consciousness.
Weston had visited me exactly once during that time. Apparently, he had used the remaining hours very efficiently to plot his escape.
“I have already emptied our joint bank accounts,” he whispered, leaning down so only I could hear his cruelty. “I canceled all of your credit cards as well, and the lease on our loft is strictly in my name. You and these runts are completely on your own.”
A nurse standing near the doorway stiffened in outrage, but I raised one finger to signal that she should not interfere.
Weston mistook my calm restraint for total surrender.
“You always pretended you were someone special,” he continued with a sneer. “But you are nobody, Jade. No parents. No family. No career path since you got pregnant. I am offering you a clean break before you lose everything.”
Ashley leaned in closer, her cloying perfume flooding the sterile air of the room. “Do not make this more embarrassing than it already is, dear. Stress is terrible for such fragile babies.”
I looked down at her hand resting on my coat, then up at Weston’s smug, arrogant face. Three years earlier, he had proposed to me only after hearing I had inherited a small trust from distant relatives.
I had let him believe it was a modest sum, just as my grandfather had insisted I do.
“People reveal exactly who they are when they think you have nothing left to lose,” my grandfather had warned me years ago.
I slowly opened the folder and smoothed the pages.
Weston’s smile widened as he watched me.
The agreement he had drafted gave him the penthouse, the luxury vehicles, the designer furniture, and full ownership of his medical supply company. In exchange for everything, he waived all responsibility for my debts and offered no financial support beyond the bare legal minimum.
He had even managed to misspell Quinn’s name on the legal document.
I signed every single marked page without hesitation.
Ashley laughed softly, clearly pleased with herself. “That was honestly much easier than I expected.”
I closed the folder, handed it back to him, and picked up my phone.
Weston turned toward the door with a dismissive wave. “You should probably call a local shelter.”
“Actually, I am calling my grandfather,” I replied calmly.
He paused and looked back at me with a smirk.
I pressed the private number that only four people in the entire world possessed.
A voice answered immediately on the other end. “Jade?”
I watched as Weston’s confidence flickered for just a second.
“Grandfather,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “I need you to come to the neonatal unit at Beacon Heights Medical Center immediately. And please, bring hospital security with you.”
“Someone has mistaken my silence for permission to destroy your great-grandchildren and me,” I added.
Weston barked a harsh, mocking laugh. “Your grandfather? The old man who died years ago?”
Ashley covered her mouth, trying to hide her delight. “Maybe the medication is making her confused, Weston.”
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