You Killed My Love, Now Beg For It

"Why aren't you pregnant yet? You know perfectly well that the Hudson family's finances are in ruins. We need Adrian's help, and you can't even manage this one simple thing for us. If you can't win Adrian's heart, what use are you to me? You're completely useless!"

At the Hudson family dinner, Belinda Hudson hurled a negative pregnancy test report right at the face of her youngest daughter, Isabella Hudson.

A red welt bloomed on Isabella's cheek from the impact. But she didn't say a word. She simply bent down, picked up the test report, and clutched it in her hand.

She and Adrian Knight had been married for three years, and every time they slept together, he forced her to take birth control.

He was the one who refused to have children. What was she supposed to do?

Her older sister, Maggie Hudson, gloated from the sidelines. "Mom, just look at her. She can't even give Adrian a baby. No wonder he doesn't like her. If I had known, I would have married him back then. Our child would probably be a few years old by now."

Maggie had also gotten married three years ago, tying the knot with the second son of the president of the Cathjeport Chamber of Commerce.

However, the couple hadn't gotten along, and they divorced in less than a year.

Belinda doted on her eldest daughter above all else. When she heard Maggie's words, her harsh expression softened. "You're right. My sweet girl is beautiful, in perfect shape, and healthy enough to give any husband children. It's the Wells family who didn't know what they had. They were completely blind to your worth."

Maggie leaned affectionately against her mother's shoulder. "That's only because I have such a good mother."

Comforted, Belinda stroked Maggie's hair and sighed, her tone casual. "If I had known the Knight family would bounce back like this, I never would have let Isabella marry Adrian in your place. It would have saved us all this trouble. That girl just doesn't know how to appreciate a good life!"

Even though Isabella had heard this exact sentiment countless times, it still stung.

Since they were young, their mother had blatantly favored Maggie. Belinda gave her eldest daughter all the best things and only ever held Maggie when they slept at night.

As for Isabella, she was usually just scolded and sent to her room.

After their father died, the favoritism only worsened.

Maggie was the one who was originally supposed to marry Adrian. But because she despised the Knight family's sudden financial decline and refused to suffer a life of hardship, she had begged their mother to let Isabella take her place.

And without even asking for Isabella's opinion, Belinda had agreed.

After Isabella married into the Knight family, her in-laws harbored a deep grudge over the substitute bride arrangement, constantly bullying her both openly and in secret.

Even Adrian treated her with nothing but cold disdain.

At the thought of it all, tears pricked Isabella's eyes.

Sitting at the head of the dining table, her eldest brother, Colin Hudson, shot Isabella a glance and frowned. "Enough, stop talking. Let's just eat."

She barely tasted her food. Her ears were filled with the constant sound of Maggie's spoiled whining and Belinda's doting laughter.

Even the usually composed Colin chimed in to agree with them every now and then.

The three of them looked like a perfectly happy, harmonious family.

Isabella, sitting in silence, was the only one who didn't belong.

After dinner, Isabella helped the maid clear the table, and then grabbed her backpack and coat, ready to leave.

But Belinda walked over and stopped her. "Wait a minute. I have something to tell you."

Isabella paused. "Go ahead."

Her mother didn't look the least bit embarrassed as she dropped the bombshell. "Since you can't get pregnant, figure out a way for your sister to have a baby for you."

"What?" Isabella froze, her brain short-circuiting for a second.

Belinda spoke as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "You and Maggie are both daughters of the Hudson family. What's the difference? As long as Maggie can conceive the Knight family's heir, do you really think Adrian would dare refuse us whatever money we ask for?"

Isabella finally grasped what her mother was suggesting, and her blood ran cold.

They were both her children, yet the difference in how she treated them was staggering.

When the Knight family had fallen on hard times, Belinda couldn't bear to let her eldest daughter suffer, so she had casually handed over her youngest.

Now that the Knight family was back on top, she wanted Maggie to swoop in and take her place.

Isabella's lips trembled, her gaze drifting toward the center of the living room. "Does... does Colin know about this?"

Over there, Colin was busy taking pictures of Maggie.

Maggie whined playfully, ordering him to make sure she looked pretty because she was going to post them online.

Colin just smiled and agreed.

Isabella's gaze locked onto that smile. It was incredibly gentle, full of pure doting affection.

Her brother had never smiled at her like that.

Belinda rolled her eyes. "Of course your brother knows. The company is drowning in debt-what do you expect him to do? He has no choice but to look to Adrian for a way out."

With that, she shoved Isabella toward the front door. "Alright, it's settled then. Hurry up and make it happen."

And just like that, she slammed the door right in Isabella's face.

It was the dead of winter. Inside the Hudson house, the heat was blasting, keeping the brightly lit rooms as warm as spring.

But outside, it was pitch-black, with fine snow drifting through the freezing air.

Isabella shivered, but she couldn't summon the courage to knock on the door and beg for a scrap of that unattainable warmth.

Instead, she took one last look at the happy family through the floor-to-ceiling windows before turning around and heading back to Kingsley Manor alone.

Kingsley Manor was where Isabella and Adrian had lived since getting married, though Adrian rarely came home. Most days, she was the only one wandering the massive estate.

By the time she arrived, it was already midnight. The villa sat pitch-black, cold, and entirely empty.

Isabella fumbled for the light switch. Her body felt strangely weak, and her forehead was burning.

Figuring she must have caught a chill, she quickly washed up and swallowed some cold medicine.

The massive king-sized bed in the master bedroom felt just as empty. Lying there, her heart felt completely hollow, and no matter how long she stayed under the covers, she couldn't seem to get warm.

She couldn't help but think of Adrian.

His body was always so warm, radiating heat like a furnace. Just lying next to him was enough to thaw her freezing hands and feet.

In truth, every time they finished being intimate, she always hoped he would hold her. But he never did.

...

Early the next morning, the sound of running water in the en-suite bathroom jolted Isabella awake.

She sat up and glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It was barely seven. Given the hour, it meant Adrian had likely pulled an all-nighter at the office and just gotten back.

Not daring to waste a second, Isabella scrambled out of bed and hurried downstairs to make breakfast. Just as she was setting the plates on the dining table, Adrian emerged from the bedroom.

He was dressed in a dark gray bathrobe, his hair still damp, which only sharpened his intense features. He was strikingly handsome, looking almost godlike as he slowly descended the stairs.

Isabella had to admit-she had always been drawn to Adrian's looks.

Her face flushing slightly, she lowered her head and murmured, "Breakfast is ready. I made the fried eggs you like."

Adrian heard her, but he didn't reply. He simply took his seat at the table and picked up his coffee for a slow sip.

Isabella had a quiet demeanor, but she didn't actually like the dead silence.

Sitting down across from him, she tried to strike up a conversation.

"Adrian, I went back to my family's house yesterday. My mom was unhappy again. She complained that I showed up alone and scolded me for a while. Next time, do you think you could..."

He cut her off coldly, clearly having no patience for her complaints. "No talking during meals."

Isabella snapped her mouth shut.

After finishing his breakfast, Adrian picked up the napkin beside his plate, elegantly dabbed at his mouth, and dropped a single, concise order. "Isabella, go take a shower."

Being told to shower right after breakfast-Isabella knew exactly what that meant.

Her face burning bright red, she abandoned the dishes and hurried upstairs.

By the time she stepped out of the shower, Adrian was already sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for her.