The days leading up to Ariana's due date were a blur of pain and despair. Her body, already weakened from the months of stress and malnutrition, felt like it was giving out. Despite the warnings of her secret visit to the doctor, nothing had changed. Lucas's indifference and Sophia's malicious scheming tightened the noose around her every day.
Ariana sat alone in her dimly lit room, her hand resting on her swollen belly. She whispered softly, "Hold on, little one. Just a little longer. Mama will keep you safe." Tears slipped down her cheeks as she wondered how much longer she could endure this nightmare.
One morning, as Ariana tried to summon the strength to leave her bed, Lucas burst into the room. His face was a mask of irritation.
"What are you doing lying around again?" he barked, his voice cold.
"I'm not feeling well," Ariana said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"You never feel well," Lucas snapped. "Do you even care about this baby? Or are you just using this as an excuse to be useless?"
His words stung, but Ariana kept her composure. "I care about this baby more than anything. That's why I need proper care—"
"You don't need anything except to stop complaining," Lucas interrupted. "Sophia has been making sure you're taken care of. Maybe you should show some gratitude."
Ariana's fists clenched at her sides. Gratitude? For what—being poisoned and sabotaged? But she knew better than to argue.
Sophia appeared in the doorway, her expression carefully crafted into one of concern. "Lucas, maybe we should ease up on her," she said sweetly. "She's obviously struggling."
Lucas sighed and shook his head. "Fine. But only because I don't want you stressed before the baby arrives, Ariana. Stop making this harder than it needs to be."
He left the room, and Sophia lingered, her concerned mask dropping. "You really are pathetic," she hissed, her voice low enough that only Ariana could hear. "No wonder Lucas doesn't trust you to raise his child."
Ariana didn't respond, her silence a small victory against Sophia's taunts.
The following days were worse. Sophia ensured that Ariana missed every prenatal appointment by giving false times or claiming the doctor had canceled. Ariana tried to confront Lucas about it, but he dismissed her concerns as paranoia.
"You're imagining things," Lucas said one evening when she tried to explain. "Sophia has been taking care of everything. Maybe if you focused on your health instead of finding things to complain about, you'd actually start feeling better."
Ariana felt the words lodge in her throat like stones. She couldn't tell Lucas that Sophia was the one orchestrating her downfall. He would never believe her.
At every meal, Sophia's manipulation continued. The food tasted off—bitter and metallic—but Ariana forced herself to eat for the baby's sake. Still, her strength waned, and her body grew weaker with each passing day.
Late one night, lily, one of the few staff members who hadn't turned against Ariana, slipped into her room.
"Ma'am, you need to see a doctor," Lily whispered urgently. "Your health is getting worse. You're not safe here."
"I can't leave," Ariana said weakly, her voice trembling. "Lucas will never let me take the baby."
"Then let me help you," Lily insisted. "You need to know what's happening to your body—for your child's sake."
Ariana hesitated but finally nodded. "Okay. Just…be careful."
The next day, under the guise of running errands, Lily arranged for a secret visit to a doctor outside the household's influence. Ariana sat nervously in the examination room as the doctor reviewed her condition.
"Mrs. Montgomery, your stress levels and malnutrition are severely affecting your health," the doctor said, his expression grave. "The baby is small for its gestational age, and you're at risk for complications during labor. You need immediate rest, proper nutrition, and medical supervision."
Ariana's heart sank. "I can't…my husband…"
The doctor sighed. "Then you need to find someone who can advocate for you. You and your baby are both in danger."
As Ariana left the clinic, her resolve hardened. She would protect her child, no matter what.
Ariana woke in the middle of the night to sharp pains coursing through her abdomen. She clutched her belly, panic surging as the contractions grew stronger.
"Lucas!" she called weakly, her voice strained.
Lucas and Sophia appeared moments later, their expressions starkly different—Lucas looked irritated, while Sophia seemed almost pleased.
"What is it now?" Lucas asked, his tone impatient.
"I think…it's starting," Ariana gasped, tears streaming down her face.
Sophia immediately took charge, her voice calm and commanding. "We need to get her to the clinic." She turned to Lucas. "I've already made arrangements. Everything will be ready."
Ariana's instincts screamed at her to refuse, to demand they take her to a proper hospital. But the pain was too intense, and her body felt like it was shutting down. She had no choice but to trust them.
The car ride was a blur of agony. Ariana's breaths came in gasps as she clung to the seat, her knuckles white. Sophia sat beside her, a hand resting lightly on her arm.
"Don't worry, Ariana," Sophia said softly, her tone laced with false sympathy. "You're in good hands."
Ariana turned her head weakly toward Lucas, her eyes pleading. "Promise me…promise me I'll see my baby."
Lucas's jaw tightened, and he looked away.
Ariana's heart sank, but she clung to hope. For her child, she would endure anything.
As they approached the clinic, Ariana's pain intensified, and tears streamed down her face. In her heart, she knew this battle was far from over. But she would fight until her last breath—for her baby, for a future that Sophia and Lucas would never take away.