Chapter 41
The appeal had failed.
Evelyn Sinclair had no choice but to accept this cruel, unjust fate.
Three years.
A bitter laugh escaped her lips.
Would she even live long enough to hold her child?
She hadn’t told the prison guards about her pregnancy. Not after what happened the last time.
The memory of their fists slamming into her still haunted her.
But the nightmare wasn’t over.
That night, a group of inmates—bald, brutal, and merciless—cornered her.
Too weak to fight back, Evelyn could only curl into herself, shielding her stomach as the blows rained down.
The tumor gnawed at her insides, sending waves of agony through her body.
She trembled, teeth clenched, praying they wouldn’t strike where it mattered most.
This wasn’t the first time.
She had reported it.
No one cared.
Every night, pain was her only companion.
Only the thought of the life growing inside her kept her from breaking.
Alexander, you heartless monster.
I spent twelve years dreaming of the day we’d reunite. But I was the only one who cared.
Nathaniel Sterling had sent medicine to ease her suffering.
But her body was failing.
Some days, she wasn’t sure she could hold on.
But she had to.
For her child.
The only light in her dark, crumbling world.
Ten months.
So close.
She had to survive.
Then came the storm.
Thunder cracked across the sky, shaking the prison walls.
Evelyn’s heart pounded.
She knew what was coming.
The inmates had been watching her.
Waiting.
They didn’t just beat her this time.
They pinned her down.
Hands trapped.
Legs forced apart.
Panic surged through her.
She knew what they intended to do.
No. Not my baby.
She thrashed, screaming.
They ignored her.
Pain exploded in her abdomen.
A wet warmth spread beneath her.
Her water had broken.
No, no, no—
"Please! Don’t hurt my child!"
Tears and sweat soaked her clothes.
The agony was unbearable.
Like her body was being torn in half.
She blacked out.
Came back.
Blacked out again.
Then—
A cry.
Sharp. Piercing.
Alive.
"My baby—" she gasped.
"Give me my baby!"
"Mr. Blackwood’s orders," one of them sneered. "Your bastard child pays for the one his precious Victoria lost."
Victoria.
His orders.
Evelyn’s eyes fluttered shut.
Tears slipped free.
Their child—buried beside the one Victoria had with another man.
Was this revenge?
Or just another cruel joke?
Morning came.
Evelyn dragged herself up, every movement fire.
She found a guard.
"Last night," she rasped, "they forced me into labor. They took my baby."
The guard blinked.
"You were pregnant?"