Chapter 1

Rosalie Baker was 22 years old when she married Lucas Stone—he was 32 years old. His age wasn't the only big thing about him. He was big everywhere else, too. Throughout their three years of marriage, he seemed to have endless tenderness for her. He gave her everything she wanted, no matter how outrageous it was. He treated her like a princess, but that didn't apply when they made love at night. He didn't stop despite her crying and pleading with him. She knew he had plenty of money and love, and it was all hers. Then, everything changed when her father, Vincent Baker, died. She called Lucas 99 times, but he rejected her each time. The next second, she received a photo from her best friend. "Isn't this your precious Luke, Rosie? I saw him on the streets of Partes with his arms around another woman." Rosalie checked the photo, feeling like she'd been dunked in ice-cold water when she saw the faces of the man and woman in the image. The man was Lucas, and the woman was Isabelle Granger, her aunt. … Lucas only came home three days after Vincent's passing. The moment he entered the house, he saw Rosalie on the couch, her eyes red and bloodshot. She looked haggard and fragile. His guilt surged, and he hurried forward to pull her into his arms. "I had to fly to Partes for an urgent meeting, Rosie. I'm sorry I didn't answer your calls because of the time difference. That's why I missed the funeral. It's all my fault. Let me make it up to you, okay? Is there anything you want?" Rosalie quietly listened to him, her face devoid of emotion. Instead of responding, she pulled two documents from her bag and flipped to the last pages before handing them to Lucas. "These are the two things I want, Luke. Sign them." Lucas sighed in relief. He quickly grabbed a pen and signed the documents. Rosalie's eyes became redder at his lack of hesitation. "You didn't even look at the documents. Aren't you worried I'm asking for something extravagant?" He wrapped his arms around her again. "We're married, Rose. What's mine is yours, and everything I have will belong to you and our baby once it's born. You can have anything you want, okay?" As he spoke, he leaned down to press his ear against her belly so he could listen to the baby. "You're going for a prenatal checkup today, right? How has our baby been doing? How about I go with you?" Rosalie stayed silent. She didn't say yes or no, but Lucas took that to mean yes. He helped her into the car. The atmosphere on the way to the hospital was glum, and neither of them spoke. Lucas wanted to break the silence, but his phone suddenly rang. "I'm back, Lucas. I want to see you." Rosalie was so close to Lucas that she clearly heard Isabelle's voice on the other end of the line. She clenched her fists tightly. The next second, Lucas hung up and said, "I have some work to attend to, Rosie. Can you go for your checkup yourself?" She didn't expose his lie. She got out of the car and hailed a cab amid the chilling breeze. Memories of the past overwhelmed her as the scenery outside zoomed past. A few years ago, Rosalie had gotten in a car crash. It had been a hit-and-run, and none of the passersby dared save her for fear of being implicated. She'd lain in a pool of blood as the life had eked out of her. Thankfully, Lucas had passed by and saved her like an angel from Heaven. That was the day she'd fallen for him at first sight—a man ten years her senior. Luckily, he'd felt the same about her. They'd gotten married after a year of dating. Perhaps it was because he was older than her, but he seemed to have boundless patience. They'd never once argued after marriage, and he'd never missed a birthday or anniversary. In life, he was constantly considerate of how she felt—except when it came to making love. Rosalie didn't know why he had such good stamina when he was already in his 30s. She'd spent many nights bursting into tears and pleading with him to stop, but all he'd done was laugh and kiss her until she was breathless. "I'm only like this because I love you, silly. The more I have of you, the earlier you'll bear me a child." And so, he filled her up each night. Finally, she conceived in their third year together. Three days ago, Vincent had suffered a stroke. When Rosalie had rushed to his side, she'd heard him constantly asking for Lucas and wanting to know when the latter would arrive. He wanted to see Lucas one last time. Everyone knew he wanted to leave Rosalie in Lucas' hands before he breathed his last breath and tried to reach Lucas. Alas, nothing had worked. Rosalie had dialed Lucas' number until her battery went flat, but all of her calls had gone unanswered. Just like that, Vincent had passed away with regrets. Rosalie had initially thought Lucas was busy… until she received that photo from her best friend after dealing with Vincent's funeral. She couldn't understand why a man who was supposed to be her husband had had his arms wrapped around Isabelle, her aunt. Her mind had been a mess as she'd finally mustered the courage to enter the study, which Lucas had always forbidden her from stepping foot in. Rosalie's blood had run cold the moment she'd opened the door—the room was filled with things that had to do with Isabelle. Photos lined the walls, and love letters were well-preserved. There were also countless unsent gifts and a thick journal detailing Lucas' love for Isabelle—it was ongoing. Rosalie learned the truth after thumbing through the journal. Lucas had only dated two women in his life. One was her, and the other was Isabelle. He and Isabelle had been a college couple, and their relationship had been a passionate affair that had lasted a decade. When his love for her had been at its peak, they'd traversed oceans and forests together, even sharing a searing kiss at the foot of a snowy mountain. When his hatred for her had been at its peak, he'd shattered jewelry worth millions of dollars for her. He'd even cast aside his pride after their breakup to fly abroad and plead with her to give him another chance. Then, upon learning that she'd started a new relationship, he'd plied himself with so much liquor that he'd had internal bleeding. All the emotions Lucas had experienced in the first half of his life had been linked to Isabelle. As for why he'd gotten together with Rosalie, it was because he'd wanted to find a stand-in for Isabelle after they'd broken up. That was why he'd set his sights on Rosalie—she was Isabelle's niece and resembled her closely. That was why he'd orchestrated the hit-and-run to make Rosalie fall for him at first sight. That was also why he'd made love to her so hard every night—he wanted to impregnate her. It wasn't because he wanted a child that looked like Rosalie. No, he wanted a child that looked like Isabelle. Rosalie felt like she'd been struck by lightning when she learned the truth. She'd broken down. Lucas' love, doting, and tenderness had all been lies. He'd thoroughly tricked her! She was young, but even she knew one had to clean up one's heart before allowing someone else to settle down there. Besides, she would never be anyone's stand-in. She was Rosalie Baker, and she was one of a kind. Lucas had lied to her from the very beginning, so she'd returned the favor by lying to him once, too. She hadn't told him the truth earlier—the documents he'd signed were actually a divorce agreement and a surgical abortion consent form. Rosalie wasn't anyone's substitute. She didn't want a man whose heart didn't beat for her. She walked into the hospital and handed the consent form to her attending physician. "I want to get an abortion."