Surrogate Revenge: Unmasking His Lies

A month after the delivery, my husband casually dug up the nightmare I had buried alive. "Actually, the man who locked you up and violated you five years ago… it was Damon." Damon.

The husband of his adopted sister, Skylar. A deafening ring pierced my ears.

All the blood drained from my face. "What?" Silas kept talking, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather. "Back then, Skylar found out she was infertile.

Her motherinlaw already hated her guts." "To help her secure her position in that family, I agreed to her little plan… having you get pregnant in her place.

Damon always had a thing for you anyway, so…" So, the three of them conspired. They locked me in the dark.

Let him rip me apart, night after night, until a child took root in my stomach. Bile clawed up my throat.

I swallowed it down hard, my teeth sinking into my trembling lower lip until I tasted copper. "Why are you telling me this now?" Silas exhaled a long breath.

His shoulders visibly dropped, like he had finally shrugged off a heavy burden. "Hiding this for five years… it was exhausting.

Besides, I gave you a child back to make up for it." He stepped closer, a satisfied smirk forming. "They say a woman's heart softens once she becomes a mother.

I guess they're right." "You didn't lose your mind like you used to. You've really learned to behave." The muscles in my cheeks twitched as I forced a stiff, hollow smile.

He didn't know a damn thing. I hadn't been tamed. I just had a little secret of my own.

Chapter 1 The brutal truth spun the room around me, but a single, sickening detail snagged in my brain. "A child back… What does that mean?" Silas froze.

His jaw tightened, realizing his slipup.

He ran a hand through his hair, deciding to just rip the bandaid off. "Before all that happened, you were pregnant, right?" "So, I greased the top of the stairs with shoe polish…" The air vanished from the room.

My fingers started to shake, violent tremors that traveled all the way up my arms. My first baby. The one I had been waiting for. He killed it with his own two hands. Seven months.

He was a fully formed little boy. Just two months away from taking his first breath. Erased. Smashed by his own father.

A cold vice clamped down on my ribs, crushing the oxygen out of my lungs. My mouth fell open, sucking in rapid, shallow gasps of dead air. Seeing my chest heave, Silas reached out.

He grabbed my clammy hand and pressed his warm lips to my knuckles. "I know it hurts, but we have Felix now. It's the same thing." I stared at the crib where Felix was sleeping.

Hot, silent tears spilled over my lashes, burning my cheeks. "It's not the same…" Silas frowned. He dropped my hand like it burned him.

His voice dropped an octave, hardening into ice. "How is it not the same?" "They're both our kids. Just pretend Felix is the first one reborn.

It's fine!" "Besides, after the miscarriage, I dropped everything.

I stayed by your side, cooked you three meals a day to get your strength back… Fallon, I don't owe you anything!" A new baby. A few weeks of cooked meals.

Was that supposed to scrub away the agony of my child being ripped from my body? No. Never. Silas's raised voice startled Felix. A sharp wail pierced the room.

Silas instantly moved to the crib, scooping the baby up and hushing him with gentle, cooing whispers. When we found out I was pregnant with Felix, Silas was ecstatic.

He painted the nursery himself. He bought so many onesies the dresser drawers wouldn't close.

He used to press his ear to my swelling belly, reading bedtime stories, waiting for a kick. This baby got everything the first one was robbed of. He really loved Felix. But now.

The more he loved him. The more the acid ate through my stomach. Silas carried the crying baby over, holding him out for me to take. My eyes were bloodshot.

I just stared at the swaddled bundle, my arms glued to my sides. I didn't reach out. Disgust flickered across Silas's face. "I thought you actually learned how to behave.

Guess you still have that temper." "If you're going to hold a grudge, let's just cancel the party tomorrow.

We can go straight to the courthouse and sign the divorce papers!" I stared at him, my gaze boring into his chest, wanting to rip open his ribs to see if his heart was actually pumping blood or just ice water.

He threw the divorce word in my face five years ago, too. Right after I caught him in bed with his adopted sister, Skylar. My fractured reality shattered back then.

I had lunged at Skylar, tearing at her hair, scratching her face. I recorded a video, my thumb hovering over the send button to blast it to Skylar's motherinlaw.

Then, Silas slapped me. The crack echoed off the walls. "I was in a bad mood, and I drank too much. If you can't handle it, let's just get a divorce!" A bad mood.

Back then, my biggest fear in the world was him being unhappy. Unhappy with my tainted, dirty body. Unhappy with the bastard child growing inside me.

I had dropped to my knees on the hardwood floor, grabbing his pant leg, begging. I refused to divorce him.

I even started punching my own swollen stomach, over and over, bruising my own flesh. I had actually believed it. Believed that his cheating was the bastard baby's fault.

That it was my fault. Chapter 2 Silas pulled my shaking body against his chest, locking his arms around me. "Fallon, stop! You've already had one miscarriage.

If you lose this baby, you might never be able to get pregnant again." That was the excuse he gave me back then to make me keep the child. Now the truth finally clicked into place.

He didn't give a damn about my body. He just couldn't let his precious adopted sister's golden ticket die in the womb.

Taking my bloodless, frozen silence as submission, Silas assumed his divorce threat had worked its magic once more.

His voice softened, dropping into a coaxing murmur. "Fallon, as long as you behave, the three of us can have a good life. You're exhausted today." "Get some rest.

I'll watch the baby." That night, Felix wailed through the nursery wall three separate times. Silas paced the floor, hushing him alone. He never opened my door.

And I never left my bed. The next day was the party. I sat glued to my mattress, the muffled chatter of guests cooing over the new baby drifting through the floorboards.

My chest was a hollow cavity. The doorknob clicked.

A sickeningly sweet voice floated in. "Fallon, why are you hiding in here?" Skylar stepped into the room, leading fiveyearold Carter by the hand.

The moment the boy spotted me, he broke into a sprint and threw his arms around my legs. "Auntie, I missed you so much!" I stared down at him. He had Damon's sharp jawline.

But those eyes… they were my exact eyes. The puzzle pieces I could never force together over the last five years suddenly snapped into a grotesque, terrifying picture.

Acid shot up my esophagus. I shoved him hard. My voice ripped out of my throat, raw and ragged. "Get off me! Don't touch me!" Carter hit the hardwood floor with a heavy thud.

He blinked up at me, stunned. Skylar just smiled. In the past, any time Carter showed me a shred of affection, she would turn utterly toxic.

Last Mother's Day, Carter had proudly handed me a handmade card. Skylar had lost her mind.

She walked right up to Silas and kissed him, dead center on the mouth, staring directly into my eyes. "You steal my son, I steal your husband!" I had lunged for her throat.

Silas had caught my wrists, pinning my arms back. "You took a Mother's Day gift from her kid. She just kissed me. It's no big deal!" I couldn't touch her.

So I shattered every porcelain plate in the kitchen until my hands bled. It became her favorite sick game. Carter would hug me; she would grind against my husband.

And safely tucked behind Silas's broad shoulders, she would watch me rip my hair out, a smug grin plastered on her face. Skylar glanced down at the boy on the floor.

She didn't offer a hand. "What's the matter, Fallon?" she purred. "Carter adores you." "He just wanted a hug.

While you were recovering from the birth, he begged to come see you every single day." Heavy footsteps echoed in the hall. Silas walked in, cradling Felix.

His brow creased into a deep V as he glared at Skylar. "I told you to leave him at home." Skylar shooed the boy out into the hall.

Then, she slid her hand right around Silas's bicep, pouting her lips. "I just thought Fallon would want to hold her real son." My blood ran freezing cold. She knew.

She knew Silas had confessed. She paraded that boy in here just to watch me choke on my own trauma. My hand snatched the heavy glass vase off the nightstand.

I hurled it straight at her face. Silas yanked Skylar back.

The glass exploded against the wall, raining shards over the carpet. "Fallon, are you out of your damn mind?!" "Maybe I am!" I launched myself across the room.

My fingers clamped tight around Skylar's throat. Before I could squeeze, a heavy kick slammed into my stomach. I flew backward.

Deliberate or blind reflex, the blow caught me directly in my recovering abdomen. A searing agony ripped through my lower abdomen, shredding the fresh wounds.

I hit the floor, curling into a tight ball, cold sweat instantly drenching my spine. "Fallon…" The rage drained from Silas's face, replaced by a flash of panic.

He took a hesitant halfstep toward me. Suddenly, thick, black smoke choked the doorway, rolling into the room like a tidal wave. "Fire!

The house is on fire!" Chapter 3 Silas didn't hesitate. He grabbed Skylar's wrist and bolted for the door.

My body, still wrecked from childbirth and fresh off his heavy kick, couldn't even manage to crawl. Thick, acrid smoke flooded my lungs. The oxygen vanished.

My vision was tunneling into blackness when a heavy figure crashed through the burning threshold. "Fallon! Where are you?" I squinted through the gray, stinging haze.

The moment his face snapped into focus, the blood in my veins turned to ice.

The memories—the pitchblack room, the tearing pain, the suffocation—struck me like venomous snakes. "Don't touch me! Don't touch me!" A feral scream ripped from my throat.

I thrashed wildly. But Damon's heavy hands clamped down on my wrists, pinning my limbs with brutal, inescapable force. Just like in that dark room. "Stop moving!

You want to die in here?" His skin against mine was worse than the flames. I kicked. I shrieked. My nails clawed at anything I could reach.

I fought until my muscles gave out, dryheaving onto the floorboards.

Once he dragged me out to the fresh air of the front lawn, Damon, covered in my bloody scratch marks, hurled me onto the grass. The ground rushed up to meet my skull.

The world went dark. When I opened my eyes, the hospital room was empty. Silas wasn't there. He only gave me a single phone call. "I'm sorry.

Skylar was closest to me, and I had Felix in my arms…" His voice hummed smoothly through the speaker. "But the second I got outside, I yelled for Damon to go in after you…" "I'm swamped right now.

I have to watch Felix and deal with the fire damage. Let Damon look after you while you're in the hospital!" "Silas, what did you just say?

You know exactly what he…" My vocal cords seized up. A violent shiver wracked my spine, my teeth chattering together.

Silas clicked his tongue, a heavy sigh of annoyance puffing through the receiver. "Stop being so dramatic.

It happened a long time ago." A faint, whiny voice drifted through the background. "Silas, I need to use the restroom. Come carry me!" Skylar. The line went dead.

The buzzing silence was a physical weight, pushing me down into a bottomless, suffocating trench. He wasn't just taking care of Felix.

He was playing nurse for Skylar's sprained ankle. He chose to save her without a single backward glance. And he threw me to my rapist. Ordered him to drag me out of the fire.

Ordered him to sit by my bed.

A rusted blade had been lodged in my ribs for five years, and my own husband had just wrapped his hand around the hilt and twisted it deep into my organs.

I was choking on my own blood. And he called me dramatic. The door pushed open. Damon strolled in, a smug, filthy smirk plastered across his face.

He poured a plastic cup of water from the pitcher and shoved it toward my face. I slapped it away. Water splashed across his expensive dress shirt.

He didn't even flinch. "Don't be so hostile. They say one night as husband and wife creates a hundred days of grace.

Care to count how many days of grace we racked up?" My teeth ground down on the inside of my cheek until hot copper flooded my tongue.

My fingers dug into the sterile white mattress, my knuckles turning white. Damon's greasy gaze locked onto my bleeding lip. "Still love biting yourself, huh?" He reached out.

Fight or flight hijacked my brain. I grabbed the glass vase off the bedside tray and smashed it against the metal railing.

I snatched a jagged, heavy shard and slashed it wildly across his forearm. "Get out!" The jagged edge sliced deep into my own palm. Warm blood dripped onto the linoleum floor.

I couldn't feel a thing. Damon stumbled back, eyes wide, and backed out of the room. The day I was discharged, Silas finally showed up.

He walked in carrying a bouquet of begonias, my favorite.

He drove me to the steakhouse we used to frequent on date nights and ordered the spicy cajun pasta I'd been craving all month.

On the drive home, he didn't shut up about Felix for a single second. The smile on his face never wavered. To him, even getting peed on by that baby was a profound blessing.

My chest was entirely hollow. Not a single ripple of emotion.

As his SUV rolled past the county courthouse, I finally opened my mouth for the first time all day. "Let's get a divorce." Silas slammed on the brakes.

The tires screeched against the asphalt. "What did you just say?" His eyes were wide, staring at me in sheer disbelief.

The woman who had dropped to her knees and begged him to stay five years ago, even after catching him cheating, had just demanded a divorce.

Chapter 4 Just then, his phone lit up in the cup holder. A text from Damon. [You busy? Fallon gets discharged today. Want me to pick her up?] Silas's head snapped up.

The muscles in his jaw ticked so hard I thought the bone would snap. He leaned over the center console. "Is this why you want a divorce?

For him?" His hand shot out, gripping the steering wheel tight enough to turn his knuckles stark white. "A few days in the hospital and you're already hooking up with him!" "What?

You figured out you share a kid and you just couldn't wait to crawl back into his bed?

Missed the thrill of him ripping you apart, you dirty slut?" The words hit me like a closed fist. A violent tremor rocked my shoulders. "I didn't—" The seatbelt clicked.

Silas threw his weight over the console, pinning me against the passenger door. "You like being taken by force? Is that it, you whore?" His fist tangled in my collar.

The fabric of my blouse ripped open, buttons popping off and pinging against the windshield.

His teeth clamped down hard on the sensitive skin of my neck. "Silas, let go of me!" I twisted my hip, found leverage against the floorboard, and drove my palm squarely into his cheek.

The sharp crack filled the cabin. I glared at him, my chest heaving.

He rubbed his jaw. "Get out." He reached across me, shoved the passenger door open, and physically kicked me out onto the curb. "Go find your bastard piece of trash!" The SUV peeled out, tires smoking on the asphalt.

I stood on the sidewalk, clutching the torn edges of my blouse over my chest. Cars drove past. Pedestrians stared.

I put one foot in front of the other, marching the miles back to the house.

The house that burned down was a custombuilt retreat Silas bought specifically for my postpartum recovery. Back then, he took care of me. He took care of the baby.

Even with the night nurse, he insisted on doing everything himself. Now the house was ash. The illusion of our perfect life went up in smoke right along with it.

I pushed the front door open. Silas and Skylar were tangled together on the living room sofa. They didn't even flinch when the hinges squeaked. I didn't break stride.

I walked right past them, heading straight for the bedroom. I was tossing clothes into a suitcase when Skylar strolled in. She wore a slip of sheer lace.

Purple bruises dotted her collarbones. "Fallon," she leaned against the doorframe. "My husband got to screw you for days for free. I've only slept with Silas twice.

I'm practically losing out on this deal." I kept my eyes on the suitcase, folding a sweater. My silence annoyed her.

She marched over, snatched a tiny knitted baby hat out of my pile—the one I made for my first baby—and dropped it onto the floor.

The heel of her stiletto ground into the yarn. "What's the point of keeping this? It's dead." She tilted her head, a wicked smirk stretching her lips. "I bet you didn't know.

While Silas was doting on you after the birth, making you all comfortable, I told him I kept having nightmares." "I told him that dead thing was haunting me.

Guess what he did?" My hands stopped moving.

Skylar's smirk widened into a vicious grin. "He took your baby's ashes, hired some shady psychic, and buried the urn right next to the city landfill to trap its soul…" Static blasted behind my eyes.

I launched myself over the suitcase. My weight slammed into Skylar, taking her down to the hardwood. I clawed at her face. I ripped at her hair.

My fingers dug deep into the soft flesh of her throat, squeezing with every ounce of strength I had left. Hands locked onto my shoulders. Silas ripped me off her.

His palm cracked across my cheekbone. A highpitched ringing pierced my right ear. He slammed a stack of papers onto the dresser. The divorce agreement.

His signature was already scrawled at the bottom. "Fallon, you better think this through." "If you divorce me, you really think Damon is going to marry you?" I let out a dry, rattling laugh.

I didn't even look at his face. I picked up the pen and signed my name. The muscles in Silas's jaw went slack. A wail drifted from the nursery. Felix was awake. He was hungry.

Silas stared at me, his gaze dropping to absolute zero. "I'm keeping full custody of Felix." He crossed his arms, blocking the doorway. "Since you're walking out anyway, go breastfeed him.

One last time." Chapter 5 I stared at him, my brain shortcircuiting. I had never breastfed. Felix was strictly formulafed.

I still remembered the first night nurse making a snide comment while I was recovering. "So heartless.

Pumping and dumping instead of feeding her own kid." Silas had fired her on the spot. He had even held my hand and comforted me. "Fallon, it's okay.

I know you're terrified of the pain." "Formula is just as nutritious…" Now, he was shoving Felix at my chest, treating me like a damn breeding cow. "I'm not doing it!" I reached for my suitcase handle, pivoting toward the door.

His fingers clamped around my wrist, a steel vice snapping shut. His voice dropped to an arctic chill. "You don't have a choice." He dropped Felix onto the center of the mattress.

In one violent motion, he wrenched both my arms behind my back, pinning my wrists together. Riiip. The flimsy fabric of my fresh shirt gave way. Cold air hit my bare chest.

I thrashed like a wild animal. "Silas! You bastard! Get off me!" Footsteps echoed in the hall. Damon appeared in the doorway, Skylar leaning comfortably against his side.

They just stood there, watching. Silas didn't even flinch. The moment the infant's greedy mouth clamped down, a violent shudder racked my spine.

Every shred of my humanity evaporated. "Why…" My vocal cords tore, bleeding into a desperate whisper. "Why are you doing this…" Silas leaned in, his hot breath brushing my earlobe. "Look, Fallon.

Look how happy he is. Are you really going to walk away and let him grow up without a mother?" Pain. Blinding, searing pain.

I squeezed my eyes shut, letting the hot, humiliating tears leak through my lashes.

An eternity passed before the crushing grip on my wrists finally slackened. "Fallon, think long and hard about this." He stepped back. "Me and the boy.

Are you really willing to throw us away?" He scooped up the satiated, sleeping baby and walked out. Skylar and Damon, having enjoyed the free show, followed right behind him.

I collapsed onto the mattress, a discarded, broken doll. My tear ducts were dry. He asked if I was willing to throw them away. Why wouldn't I be? Him? I was done. The kid?

I was done. I dragged my aching body up. Pulled a fresh, thick sweater over my bruised chest.

I took a folded medical document out of my purse and placed it squarely next to the signed divorce papers. I grabbed my suitcase handle.

The wheels clicked against the hardwood as I walked out of that frozen hellscape. [Silas] I walked back into the master bedroom.

I fully expected to see Fallon sitting on the edge of the bed, crying and begging for my forgiveness. The room was dead silent. The suitcase was gone. She actually left.

She actually signed the papers and walked out. A blind rage hijacked my muscles. I grabbed the heavy bedside lamp and hurled it into the vanity mirror. Crash.

Then, my eyes caught on a piece of paper resting next to the divorce agreement. The blood drained from my face. My hand shook as I snatched the thin document off the wood.

A DNA test. Mine and Felix's. My gaze locked onto the bold black ink at the very bottom of the page. [0.00% probability of paternity.

Silas is excluded as the biological father of Felix.] All the air sucked out of the room.

A deafening ringing filled my ears, drowning out everything except the ragged, heavy sound of my own breathing. A blunt, crushing pressure clamped down on my ribs.

Felix wasn't my son! Fallon cheated on me? How dare she! Bile clawed up my throat. Acid burned my esophagus. I ripped the paper in half. Then into quarters.

I shredded the mocking document into confetti, throwing the pieces onto the carpet. "Slut! Fucking whore!" A piece fluttered to my shoe. There was handwriting on the back.

I dropped to my knees, frantically shoving the jagged scraps together like a jigsaw puzzle on the rug. Black ink formed words. Two distinct paragraphs. Chapter 6