Wedding Night, He Called My Sister’s Name

On our wedding night, James moaned my sister's name while inside me. I shoved him off in fury. He looked down me with contempt. "You're just a replacement for Raina. Don't expect too much." Later, a fake surveillance video pinned Raina's death on me. I couldn't prove my innocence. James had me thrown into prison. For three whole years, I endured abuse behind bars. The day James picked me up, he tore off my clothes and forced himself inside me. Afterward, he tossed a document at me. "Sign it." Turns out David—his and Raina's son—had leukemia. He wanted me to bear a child—only to sacrifice it to save the one he had with Raina? I couldn't accept it. A cold smirk crossed his handsome face. "Refuse? Then your mother's medical funding ends now." "Your only value lies in your womb. Learn to obey." From then on, he came to my room nightly. There was no tenderness, only brutal taking. Then fate played its cruelest joke. I discovered a paternity test—it proved I was David's biological mother. Which meant... David was my son? Mine and James's?