In the ten years Natalie Sinclair had been married to Colton Blackwood, she had suffered through seven miscarriages.
This time, she had finally gotten pregnant again—and Colton wouldn’t let her go to the hospital for a prenatal checkup, no matter what.
He said hospitals were chaotic, full of people. What if some patient accidentally bumped into her?
To put her at ease and help her stay home and rest, he even went so far as to use his authority as a battalion commander to transfer a doctor from Arlington Hills to their house for regular visits.
Natalie believed him.
Until the day she saw it with her own eyes—Colton, just back from a secret mission, carefully escorting the woman who had been missing for three years.
Her sister.
Her whole body trembled.
Clarissa Sinclair was cradling a sleeping newborn in her arms, tears sparkling in her eyes as she looked at Colton.
“Colton, our first child is finally here. All those miscarriages my sister went through—they weren’t in vain.”
“You’ve hidden me for all these years, just so I could give birth right under her nose. I can’t imagine how much effort that must have taken.”
“I’ve made unforgivable mistakes. I don’t deserve to raise him. I just want to stay close to you. Even if it means being your maid, I’m willing—as long as I can see him every day.”
Colton’s expression was tense. After a long pause, he finally spoke.
“You’ve spent all these years without a name, without a place. You couldn’t even step into the sunlight. You’ve been through enough.”
“Natalie is the only wife I’ve ever acknowledged. I gave her a title, a home. But I let her go through all those miscarriages… just so you could give birth to our son. That’s my way of making it up to you. He’ll inherit everything I own.”
Their son.
Natalie felt like she’d been plunged into an icy lake. Her tears fell like beads cut loose from a thread.
So all those children she lost… were simply sacrifices for theirs.
So it hadn’t been accidents. Not once.
Clarissa’s disappearance had been a lie, too. Colton had told her Clarissa had been sent away, hidden, for her own safety. But the truth was uglier. Much uglier.
“Clarissa—”
The familiar voice made Natalie freeze.
She turned around.
Her parents stepped down from a military jeep, faces full of concern and affection—only to go straight to Clarissa and embrace her.
“You’ve suffered, haven’t you? Childbirth is like walking through the gates of hell.”
“Look at you—your face is so pale. Come, let’s go home. I found a trustworthy nanny to take care of you.”
Clarissa was overwhelmed with emotion, her voice catching in her throat.
“Dad, Mom… I thought you really didn’t want me anymore.”
Her mother’s voice was hoarse.
“Silly girl. So what if you weren’t born to me? I raised you myself.”
“No parent holds a grudge against their child forever. Seeing you suffer like this—it’s like a knife to my heart. Now that you’re a mother, don’t be so reckless anymore.”
Clarissa nodded repeatedly, but paused before getting into the car.
“Are you sure I can go home? If Natalie finds out, she’ll be angry. Maybe I should just go back to my apartment.”
Her father assured her at once, “Don’t worry. We’ve thought it through. If your sister loses this baby, she’ll never be able to carry again. When that happens, she’ll have no choice but to accept your child—whether she wants to or not.”
“That’s right. You’ve already paid your dues these past years. It’s time she let it go.”
“Be good, now. Come home with us.”
The whole family got into the car, warm and harmonious.
Except for Natalie.
She stood there alone, utterly hollow inside.
She watched the military jeep fade into the distance—and finally broke down, collapsing to the ground in tears.
Back when she found out she was pregnant again, the entire family had been overjoyed.
Colton had looked at her belly with misty eyes, gently resting his hand on it.
Her father handed out bonuses to the guards, the chauffeur, and the maids.
Even her atheist mother had knelt for hours at the chapel, praying for the baby’s safety.
And now?
Clarissa had given birth to Colton’s child, and her parents had helped keep it from her.
She and her unborn baby were nothing—just extras in someone else’s story.
Pain shot through her abdomen, sharp and sudden.
But it was still nothing compared to the pain in her heart.
She was their biological daughter. Yet everyone stood with the impostor who had stolen her identity for over a decade.
Ten years ago, she’d been found by the Sinclairs.
She went from a poor farm girl to the daughter of a decorated general—and was engaged to a young, accomplished officer: Colton Blackwood.
She’d been happy.
But Clarissa had never accepted the truth that she wasn’t the real daughter. She tried every way to make Natalie’s life hell.
On Natalie’s first day at the Sinclair estate, Clarissa pushed her down the stairs when no one was looking. Fifteen stitches to the forehead.
When Natalie’s ID was officially transferred, Clarissa tricked her into going to the countryside, where she nearly got assaulted by a deranged old man.
Over the years, Clarissa had done everything she could to destroy her.
But Natalie survived.
She thought she’d made it through the worst, that she could finally live a happy life.
Until the day of her wedding to Colton, when Clarissa escaped from detainment and drove a beat-up car straight into her.
Natalie barely escaped death.
Her legs were shattered. She never had another shot at joining the National Dance Ensemble.
That moment—it was as good as dying.
Dance had been her life. From the village to the capital, she had poured her heart, sweat, and tears into it.
Now, with those scarred legs, there were nights she wanted nothing more than to end it all.
Until she found out she was pregnant.
For the first time, she felt a tiny life taking root inside her.
She’d cried with joy, her heart full of hope, ready to welcome someone who shared her blood.
But it was not to be.
At three months, she miscarried—suddenly, without warning.
As blood poured between her legs, she felt everything inside her go quiet.
Three days later, Colton found a stash of expensive saffron in Clarissa’s room.
The same saffron that had cost them their child.
Clarissa admitted it without a care.
Her father collapsed from heart trouble. Her mother cried day and night, saying Clarissa owed them too much.
Colton had almost shot Clarissa right then and there.
Natalie stopped him. She didn’t want him to bear the burden of murder.
Later, to appease her, Colton sent Clarissa away—to some remote rural area, to reflect on her sins.
But not long after, news came: Clarissa had vanished.
The Sinclairs searched high and low, but there was no trace of her.
Natalie thought—maybe that was the end of it all.
In the years that followed, she faded from the spotlight.
Colton, her parents—she was all they had eyes for.
Colton would bring her surprise after surprises when he got off work—flowers, jewelry, books she liked.
No matter how busy or dangerous his missions were, he always sent telegrams home on time.
Her father pulled strings to get her a relaxing job.
Her mother made fresh pastries for her every day.
Natalie had thought—she’d finally earned her peace.
But in the end, she realized everything they’d done was just to keep her quiet.
To stop her from holding Clarissa accountable.
To wait for the day Colton and Clarissa’s baby would be born.
Clarissa. It was always Clarissa.
Natalie let out a bitter laugh, hollow laugh. Tears spilled again.
She wanted to ask—what had they taken her for, all these years?
“Ma’am—”
A soldier under Colton’s command rushed over, holding an envelope.
“A telegram, ma’am. From the Commander.”
