Chapter 1
In the sterile environment of the maternity ward, the air was thick with tension.
“Spread your legs a bit more… wider!” The pain inside Stellan Storm’s body was unbearable, sending violent tremors through her. The doctor, seeing the sweat beading on her forehead and the pained expression on her face, softened his tone. “I know it’s hard, but hang in there. The birthing process is always intense.”
Stellan nodded, trying to steady herself against the sharp waves of agony. “I must… I must,” she whispered to herself, summoning the strength to endure.
Just a month ago, Stellan’s world had crumbled. Storm’s Group, once a thriving empire, collapsed in a single devastating day. Her father, unable to cope with the loss, took his own life, leaving Stellan to face a mountain of debt. Overnight, she went from being a privileged heiress to a woman trapped in financial ruin.
When creditors closed in, leaving her nowhere to turn, Mrs. Marigold appeared like an angel. “My son has been in a coma for two years, gravely injured, and still hasn’t awakened,” she had explained, her voice laced with an unsettling calm. “I need a woman with a clean family history to carry his child. In return, I will clear your family’s debts.”
The terms were clear: Stellan was to become a surrogate for Mrs. Marigold’s son, never to have contact with the child or the family again once the baby was born.
Stellan, desperate and with no other options, agreed.
Her pregnancy, to everyone’s surprise, was with triplets. Mrs. Marigold, overjoyed, spared no expense in ensuring Stellan received the best care. Nannies, nutritionists, and round-the-clock medical attention were all arranged for her.
One day, after swallowing a particularly unpleasant tonic, Mrs. Marigold gave Stellan a knowing look. “You must follow the dietary plan. It’s for the benefit of the babies.”
“I understand, Mom,” Stellan replied, her voice tinged with gratitude. “But… I’ve been married into your family for months now. I’m carrying your son’s children, and yet, I still haven’t met him. My morning sickness is gone, and with my medical background, I could take care of him when he wakes.”
Mrs. Marigold’s kindness was evident, but her actions were shrouded in mystery. She had never once allowed Stellan to meet her husband nor even mentioned him. His existence was an enigma.
“There’s no need for that right now,” Mrs. Marigold replied, her voice cold but firm. “Once he wakes, you’ll meet him. For now, focus on your pregnancy.”
Stellan couldn’t help but wonder. Why was she kept from him? Was it because his injuries were too horrifying to see, or was Mrs. Marigold afraid she might flee in fear?
Nine months passed, and Stellan’s belly grew larger with each passing day, stretching under the weight of the triplets. The day of the surgery approached—an emergency cesarean had been scheduled for 3 p.m. But as the hour drew closer, Stellan began to feel uneasy. Mrs. Marigold was nowhere to be seen, and an unfamiliar twinge of pain gripped her abdomen.
Suddenly, the door swung open with a crash, and Mrs. Marigold stormed into the room, her face twisted in fury.
“Mom, you’re finally here,” Stellan said, her voice shaky with relief. But her words were cut short by a sharp slap across her cheek.
“You treacherous woman!” Mrs. Marigold hissed, her voice filled with venom. “I never would’ve guessed you could be so deceitful!”
Confused, Stellan touched her stinging cheek, her heart pounding. “Mom, what are you talking about?”
“And you dare ask me that?” Mrs. Marigold’s fury knew no bounds. She grabbed a piece of paper from the table and threw it in Stellan’s face. “Look at this!”
Stellan’s eyes widened in disbelief as she read the DNA test results. The words “NO BIOLOGICAL RELATIONSHIP” were printed in bold, stark letters, hitting her like a punch to the gut.
“This can’t be!” Stellan gasped, her voice trembling. “I haven’t been with anyone else! How could these babies not be his? There must be a mistake!”
“The report is clear, and yet you still try to deny it!” Mrs. Marigold snarled, her rage escalating. She grabbed Stellan by the collar, shaking her as she hissed, “You’ve deceived me, and now you’ll pay the price.”
At that moment, a sharp pain pierced through Stellan’s body, and she collapsed to her knees, the sudden rush of liquid signaling that labor had begun.
“Mom, please… help me,” Stellan cried, clutching at Mrs. Marigold’s clothes. “These babies are truly his. Please help me.”
Mrs. Marigold shoved her away with disgust. “You deceitful woman! After everything you’ve done, you dare ask for my help?”
The doctor rushed in, urgent and frantic. “The mother is in active labor, Mrs. Marigold. We need to perform the cesarean immediately.”
But Mrs. Marigold’s voice was cold and final. “A C-section? Let her suffer. Let her die in agony. Nobody is to perform surgery on her!”
With her refusal, the doctor had no choice but to take Stellan into the delivery room for a natural birth. An hour later, the doctor emerged with a baby boy in his arms, his cries echoing through the corridor.
“Mrs. Marigold, the mother suffered severe hemorrhaging. Only one of the triplets survived,” the doctor said, his voice somber.
Mrs. Marigold glanced at the baby boy, her expression unreadable. Before she could say anything, the door burst open, and a servant, Rook, entered, excitement clear in his voice.
“Madam, great news! Alaric has awoken!”
“What did you say?” Mrs. Marigold’s eyes widened in shock. “Alaric is awake?”
“Yes, Madam. He’s awake after three years in a coma.”
Mrs. Marigold’s face softened, but then her attention shifted back to the baby. “And what of the child?”
Rook gently took the baby from the doctor’s arms and followed Mrs. Marigold toward the car. “The baby arrived, and my son woke up as if by fate,” Mrs. Marigold murmured, her voice distant. “He’s meant to stay with our Knight family.”