Chapter 4Sterilized After Your Betrayal

I froze, paralyzed by the horror of the setup.

Claire’s palm slammed across my face before I could breathe.

“You did that right in front of me!” she screamed, her voice shaking with rage. “God knows what you’ve been doing to them behind my back!”

The taste of copper filled my mouth. The room was a cacophony of insults and camera flashes. Bennett looked at me from behind Claire’s shoulder. His face shifted—the fear vanished, replaced by a slow, mocking grin.

His lips moved silently: How does it feel to lose everything?

I lost it. I lunged for him.

I didn't even reach him. Claire’s heel caught me in the chest, a brutal, practiced kick that sent me spiraling down the marble stairs. I landed in a bed of broken glass.

“Nigel, enough!” Claire yelled from the top of the stairs.

I couldn't move. The pain in my chest was sharp, but the shards of glass in my skin were worse. “Help me,” I wheezed. “Please… he’s lying. Look at him.”

“You’re a danger to this family,” Claire said, her voice dropping to a deadly, cold whisper. “If I leave Jamie with you, you’ll kill him.”

She turned to her security team. “Take him to the private clinic. I want him sterilized. A man like this doesn't deserve the chance to ever be a father again.”

My heart stopped. “Claire, you can’t. That’s illegal—Claire!”

She let out a short, sharp laugh. “Consider it a lesson in accountability. You want to play the victim? I’ll give you something to cry about.”

The guards pinned me down. The last thing I saw was Claire turning her back to me to comfort Bennett and the boy.

I was dragged into the back of a black SUV. The clinic was private, unmarked, and cold. The anesthesia was poorly administered; I felt the tugging, the slicing, the agonizing heat of the procedure.

I thought of the years Claire and I spent talking about names for a second child. I thought of the nursery we’d painted blue.

While I lay on that table, Bennett posted to his stories. The three of them were at the airport, heading to Antarctica. A perfect family, heading to a frozen wasteland.

Claire sent me a text while I was in the recovery room: If you can learn to accept Bennett and Jamie, maybe I’ll take you on that honeymoon when we get back.

I didn't reply. I waited until I could walk. Then I gathered the medical waste—the physical evidence of what she’d stolen—and the flash drive of the clinic’s security footage I’d bribed an orderly for.

I packed them into a cold-storage box and addressed it to her office.

Claire, I’m returning what’s yours. We’re even now.

A week later, Claire returned home with her "family." The house was silent. Nigel was gone.

The doorbell rang. A courier stood there with a package.

“For Ms. Steward. Mr. Nigel said you’d want this personally.”