The tension in the Turner household was palpable, a quiet storm that grew more violent with each passing day. Lucas's patience with Ariana had worn thin, his love buried under layers of manipulation and Sophia's cunning words.
One evening, after dinner, Lucas cornered Ariana in the hallway. His face was cold, his tone sharp.
"Where were you this afternoon?" he demanded.
Ariana frowned, clutching her belly protectively. "I was in the garden. Why?"
"Don't lie to me," Lucas snapped, stepping closer. "Sophia said she couldn't find you, and the staff said you were yelling at them again. What's wrong with you?"
Ariana's eyes widened in disbelief. "I wasn't yelling! Lucas, do you even hear yourself? You're accusing me of things that never happened."
"You've been acting like a spoiled brat for months now," he said, his voice rising. "You're a burden, Ariana. If you can't even take care of yourself, how do you expect to take care of our child?"
The words hit her like a slap. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "You're the one who's changed, Lucas. You've let Sophia turn you into someone I don't even recognize."
Lucas's jaw clenched, his temper boiling over. "Don't you dare bring Sophia into this!" he shouted, grabbing Ariana by the arm and shoving her against the wall.
Pain shot through her back, but Ariana refused to cower. She glared at him, her voice trembling with anger. "Go ahead, Lucas. Hurt me if it makes you feel powerful. But you'll never break me."
For a moment, Lucas hesitated, his grip loosening. He turned and stormed away, leaving Ariana leaning against the wall, shaking but unbroken.
From the top of the staircase, Sophia watched with a satisfied smirk.
Sophia's plans to destroy Ariana continued with ruthless precision. She began tampering with Ariana's meals, subtly reducing her portions or adding ingredients that made her nauseous. At the same time, she ensured Ariana missed important prenatal appointments by intercepting messages from the doctor's office.
One morning, Sophia joined Lucas in the dining room, her expression one of feigned concern.
"Lucas, I'm really worried about Ariana," she said, placing a hand on his arm. "She's been so careless lately—missing her doctor's appointments, refusing to eat properly. I'm afraid it's affecting the baby."
Lucas frowned, his frustration evident. "I've talked to her, but she won't listen. She's too stubborn to admit she needs help."
"Maybe she just needs a firmer hand," Sophia suggested softly. "She doesn't realize how much stress she's putting on you. Maybe if she understood the consequences..."
Lucas sighed, nodding slowly. "You're right. She needs to get her act together."
Days turned into weeks, and Ariana's condition worsened. Her skin grew pale, her energy drained, and the once-strong kicks of her baby became faint flutters.
One evening, Mia arrived unannounced, slipping past the household staff with practiced ease. She found Ariana sitting in the nursery, cradling her swollen belly and staring blankly at the crib.
"Ariana?" Mia's voice was gentle but firm.
Ariana looked up, her face etched with exhaustion. "Mia... what are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing," Mia said, crossing the room to kneel beside her friend. "Why haven't you called me? Look at you—you're wasting away."
Ariana shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what to do. Lucas doesn't believe me. Sophia... she's poisoning him against me. And now, I'm so weak, I can barely get out of bed some days."
Mia's eyes filled with concern and anger. "You're coming with me to see a doctor. Now."
Ariana hesitated. "If Lucas finds out—"
"Lucas can go to hell," Mia snapped. "You and that baby are my priority. Let me help you."
With Mia's help, Ariana managed to visit a trusted doctor in secret. The examination revealed the harsh reality of her situation: severe malnutrition and stress were putting both her and her baby at risk.
"Ariana," the doctor said gently, "you need to rest and eat properly. The stress you're under—it's not just affecting you. It's affecting the baby."
Ariana nodded, tears streaming down her face. "I'll do whatever it takes. Just tell me what I need to do."
Mia squeezed her hand. "We'll figure this out together."
When Ariana returned home, Lucas was waiting in the living room, his arms crossed.
"Where have you been?" he demanded.
"I went to see a doctor," Ariana said, keeping her voice steady. "I needed a second opinion about the baby."
Lucas's eyes narrowed. "A second opinion? So now you don't trust our family doctor?"
"It's not about trust," Ariana said, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "It's about protecting our child—something you've shown no interest in doing."
Lucas's face darkened. "Don't you dare accuse me of not caring. You're the one who's been neglecting yourself and putting the baby in danger."
Ariana stepped closer, her voice rising. "Because of you! Because of Sophia! You've isolated me, starved me, and blamed me for everything. You're the reason I'm like this."
Lucas scoffed, his tone dripping with contempt. "You're weak, Ariana. Always playing the victim. Maybe Sophia's right—maybe you do need help."
The words cut deeper than any wound, but Ariana refused to let him see her break. She straightened her back, her resolve hardening. "You can think whatever you want, Lucas. But I'm done letting you and Sophia control me. From now on, I'll do whatever it takes to protect myself and my baby."
Lucas didn't respond, his jaw tightening as he turned and walked away.
The emotional and physical toll on Ariana becomes evident. Left utterly helpless, she begins to lose hope, her spirit was now fully crushed under Lucas and Sophia's cruelty.