After five grueling years of IVF treatments and seven months of pregnancy, Violet Shaw's body betrayed her with sudden premature labor. Bleeding uncontrollably, she teetered on the brink of death. Her husband, Cedric Stone, who had vowed to love her unconditionally, was conspicuously absent. He had disappeared with that college girl—the one who was supposed to be her emergency blood donor. Violet tried to scream his name, but another vise-like contraction seized her. The pain stabbed so deep she swore her bones were splintering. 'Cedric... Where are you?' Watching Violet's face turn ghostly white, Celia Shaw desperately dialed Cedric's number thirty-two times. Each attempt met only with the taunting blare of a busy signal. "She has a rare blood type. The blood bank reserves are critically low." "Her blood pressure is still crashing." "Where is Mr. Stone's backup donor? Damn it, where is she?" Facing the doctor's roar, Celia stammered through her tears. "He... he's not answering." Before she could explain, another contraction ripped through Violet's abdomen like a serrated knife. Her vision swimming, her final desperate gaze fixed on the operating room doors. Cedric never came. Hours passed, or maybe days. She lost track in the fog. When consciousness finally returned, her trembling hands flew to her stomach. It was flat. Empty. A tsunami of panic and loss overwhelmed her. 'My baby.' She struggled upright, her fingers grasping at empty air. Only Celia's tear-streaked face answered her. "Violet... We almost lost you." 'My baby... where is my baby?' Her voice was a broken whisper as she weakly clutched Celia's sleeve. Tears overflowed like a shattered dam. "The doctors... they couldn't save the baby." Celia's hands trembled. "It was life or death. Without the C-section, you wouldn't have survived." 'Cedric?' Violet's cracked lips formed the name like a curse. Celia's expression turned grim. "I kept vigil for three days. He never came." The words struck Violet like a thunderbolt. Her vision blurred, and the room spun as a visceral pain ripped through her chest. She nearly blacked out from the agony. She had spent seven months carefully nurturing that life. She had whispered countless lullabies to her swelling belly. All those dreams of first steps and birthday candles were gone before her child could even take its first breath. This was the miracle Cedric had begged for, the heir he had obsessed over in boardrooms and bedrooms alike. Yet when their world crumbled, the man who should have been a father couldn't even bother to pick up his phone. With ragged breaths, Violet grabbed her phone with shaking hands and stabbed at Cedric's number. This time, his assistant answered. "Where. Is. He." Her voice was a blade. "Mr. Stone is... tied up right now." The stammering reply turned her blood to ice. "Tell that bastard to get to the hospital. Now." She swiped at her tears and hurled the phone onto the bed with a thud. Later, leaning on Celia's shoulder in the morgue's fluorescent glare, Violet faced the truth. On a stainless steel tray lay her child. Tiny. Still. Gone.