This Vicious Heart

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The night before my wedding, I was kidnapped and dumped on a street like a ragged doll.

My fianc called that same night to call off the wedding.

Then he married my best friend.

In that pit of despair, his brother, Gabriel Ford, took my hand.

He stood there, surrounded by a sea of crimson roses, and asked me to marry him.

"Evelyn," he murmured,"I've loved you in secret all this time. Your past doesn't matter to me. Let me be by your side for the rest of our lives, okay?"

Numb from the pain and humiliation of the past few days, I just nodded.

Six months into our marriage, pregnant with our six-month-old baby, I was diagnosed with a severe heart condition that required an immediate transplant.

Gabriel, conveniently, was the nation's top cardiac surgeon. He insisted on performing the surgery himself.

On the operating table, the anesthesia started to work, but a sliver of consciousness remained.

Under the blinding glare of the surgical lights, I heard Gabriel talking to his assistant.

"Dr. Ford, are you really going to give Mrs. Ford's heart to Ms. Sinclair?"

"I married her for this exact moment," Gabriel's voice was chillingly matter-of-fact.

"To take her heart. Vivian's condition can't wait any longer."

"But... Ms. Sinclair is married to your brother now..."

"So what?" His voice was ice.

"If it weren't for her heart, why would I have married her? And why would Vivian have married my brother? Evelyn Hayes owes me this. Taking her heart settles the debt."

The assistant sounded hesitant, uneasy.

"You knew her heart was a match for Ms. Sinclair... You had her kidnapped, orchestrated the whole thing to marry her, then tampered with her food daily to make her heart status look bad...

You even forged that heart disease diagnosis to get her to agree to the surgery... But if you give her heart to Ms. Sinclair, what happens to Mrs. Ford?"

Gabriel's voice turned colder, dismissive.

"There are artificial hearts. Slap one of those in her."

"But the technology isn't mature yet," the assistant protested, "the rejection could be severe..."

Gabriel sounded impatient, annoyed.

"Giving her heart to Vivian is a privilege Evelyn should be grateful for. At worst, I'll take care of her for the rest of her life."

"Keep your mouth shut about this. After the surgery, I'm arranging for you to transfer overseas."

So, my picture-perfect marriage was a total sham.

My devoted husband was a monster with ulterior motives.

My "fatal" heart condition was a meticulously crafted lie.

Gabriel married me for one reason only: to steal my beating heart and gift it to his true love!

No alcohol. No late nights. Constant reminders to exercise

He wasnt protecting me. He was protecting this heart inside me!

Every tender gesture, every word of care all fake!

I fought with every ounce of strength to open my eyes, to escape that cold, sterile table.

The surgical lights burned my retinas. The anesthetic pain threatened to drag me under.

I could feel it C the icy scalpel slicing through skin, the instruments probing, tearing inside me.

Then, the anesthetic wave crashed over me, pulling me into black nothingness.

When consciousness flickered back, I was in a hospital room.

I heard Gabriel and his assistant talking in hushed tones just outside the door

"Mrs. Ford's baby is six months old and perfectly healthy. It could be safely delivered in two months. Inducing labor now might mean she could never conceive again."

Gabriel's voice was devoid of warmth, devoid of anything human.

"Vivian gave me a son three years ago. He will be the Ford family's sole heir. Evelyn's brat is just some fatherless bastard. It has no right to be born."

The assistant tried again, "But Dr. Ford"

"Enough!" Gabriel cut him off, sharp and brutal. "Get the medication ready. Do as I say!"

A deafening roar filled my head.

Those words on the operating table they werent a nightmare

I squeezed my eyes shut, tears leaking down my temples.

Moments later, Gabriel walked back in, his face a mask of tender concern.

"Sweetheart, you're awake? How do you feel? Any pain? Any discomfort?"

His eyes were bloodshot. His thumb gently stroked my hand.

"The surgery went well, sweetheart. Just... the artificial heart might cause some significant rejection. You'll need to bear with it."

He approached the bed holding a cup of dark, murky liquid.

"Here, drink this. It'll help with the rejection."

The liquid emitted a pungent, bitter odor, mixed with a nauseating, strange sweetness.

Remembering the conversation I'd overheard, pure terror seized me.

"This smells awful. I don't want it."

My voice trembled, tight with fear.

Gabriel didn't pause. He kept stirring the foul brew with a spoon.

That same, sickeningly sweet smile was plastered on his face as he patted my head.

"Sweetheart, you're going to be a mom soon. No more tantrums. Be good. Drink your medicine so you can get better and take care of our baby."

"Open up. I'll feed you. I added sugar. It's sweet, not bitter at all."

I stared at the dark spoon, drowning in despair and dread.

Gabriel scooped up a spoonful, pinched my jaw open, and forced the liquid down my throat.

The rancid bitterness mixed with the cloying sugar created a wave of nausea that shot straight to my brain.

"Cough... cough..."

I choked, gagging, desperate to spit it out.

Suddenly, the heart monitor beside me emitted a piercing, urgent alarm.

My belly clenched. Violent contractions ripped through me. A guttural cry tore from my lips.

Doctors and nurses rushed in, faces tight with alarm.

"Dr. Ford! The rejection from the artificial heart is too severe! Her body absolutely cannot handle the strain of pregnancy. For her safety, we must induce labor immediately!"

"No! NO! Don't hurt my baby!"

"Gabriel! It's YOUR child! It's really YOURS"