Eight Years of Maybe One Day of I Do—Bride Swapped Deal With It novel Chapter 103

Chapter 1

I was carrying sextuplets, but my husband refused to let me reduce.

I thought it was love.

What I didn’t know was that none of these six babies were truly mine-they belonged to him and his first love.

Until I overheard him in his study at 3 AM:

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“Six cord blood samples. Six chances to cure Verna’s leukemia. More babies better odds.”

“But sir, your wife might not survive. And if she found out she’s suffering to carry aren’t even hers, she’ll completely break down!”

Eden Blackwood’s voice was cold, ruthless

“So what? She takes Mrs. Blackwood’s position. Time to pay up.”

? Three years of marriage, and I was just a living blood bank for his dying mistress.

My fingers shaking as I dialed my doctor.

“I want to terminate the pregnancy.”

“All six of them.”

His mistress needs cord blood? She can die waiting!

ment our honeymoon ended, I couldn’t stop vomiting.

ospital, the doctor delivered shocking news-I was carrying sextuplets.

1. Rovella, your uterine lining is thin. I strongly recommend selective reduction. Sextuplets are extremely high-risk.”

But Eden refused without hesitation.

“No reduction. The Blackwood family can afford them all.”

His warm palm rested gently on my still-flat stomach. “These are our children. I want to keep every single one.”

I was moved by his devotion, biting back my fears to agree.

But six months later, everything shattered.

One night while getting up to use the bathroom, I heard a conversation coming from the study.

“Verna’s leukemia needs cord blood. Six babies are perfect-more kids, more odds.” Eden’s voice was cold, clinical.

“But Mr. Blackwood, this could put your wife’s life in danger.”

“She took the place of Mrs. Blackwood. She should pay for it!”

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Eight Years of Maybe. One Day of I Do-Bride Swapped, Deal With It!

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I clenched my hands tightly, and tears blurred my vision.

It hit me-both my children and I were nothing but tools to him.

“Six cord blood units will definitely cure Ms. Jones.”

Eden’s secretary, Damon sighed dramatically. “Our boss only has eyes for Ms. Jones. That’s why he came up with this pregnancy scheme-keeps treatment on track while giving Verna a real chance at survival.”

“But what if Nimue finds out? If she realizes the babies she’s suffering to carry aren’t hers-that she’s just a living blood bank-she’ll probably

break down.”

Eden’s voice cut through the room like ice.

“So what if she finds out? She married into the Blackwood name. She should pay the price.”

The others murmured in agreement. “True. Even if she knew, she’d have to see it through. She signed the prenup. Nimue handed over her entire family business just to marry Mr. Blackwood. A single look from our boss and she’ll obey.”

They laughed, the sound sharp with calculation.

I stood frozen in the shadowy hallway, my blood seeming to stop.

My trembling hand moved to my swollen belly. My nails dug crescents into my palm.

What did this mean? The children I was carrying weren’t mine?

All those months of hyperemesis, body-wide edema, sleepless nights.

The judgmental stares, being mocked as a “breeding pig” by Manhattan socialites.

I endured it all-for Verna Jones’s cord blood supply?

The con

n in the study continued, but the words were a blur.

Verna Jones was-Eden’s childhood sweetheart.

when I heard about her leukemia diagnosis, I’d even volunteered for a match test.

tunately, I wasn’t a fit.

I never imagined my kindness had been turned into manipulation. That my womb would become a tool to save her.

Dizziness hit me. I clutched the wall to keep from collapsing.

My ears rang, yet every word from that study burned itself into my brain.

Inside, they were still discussing my “purpose.”

Eden’s occasional cold interjections made my entire body tremble.

Three years of marriage. I never knew the man sleeping beside me.

I placed my hand over my six-month belly, feeling the weight of six calculated “blood bags.”

And I was just the incubator hired to grow them.

Verna Jones. I knew that name too well. Eden still kept their high school photos saved on his phone.

Eight Years of Maybe, One Day of I Do-Bride Swapped, Deal With It!

09:27

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1 clenched my hands tightly, and tears blurred my vision.

It hit me-both my children and I were nothing but tools to him.

“Six cord blood units will definitely cure Ms. Jones.”

Eden’s secretary, Damon sighed dramatically. “Our boss only has eyes for Ms. Jones. That’s why he came up with this pregnancy scheme-keeps treatment on track while giving Verna a real chance at survival.”

“But what if Nimue finds out? If she realizes the babies she’s suffering to carry aren’t hers-that she’s just a living blood bank-she’ll probably

break down.”

Eden’s voice cut through the room like ice.

“So what if she finds out? She married into the Blackwood name. She should pay the price.”

The others murmured in agreement. “True. Even if she knew, she’d have to see it through. She signed the prenup. Nimue handed over her entire family business just to marry Mr. Blackwood. A single look from our boss and she’ll obey.”

They laughed, the sound sharp with calculation.

I stood frozen in the shadowy hallway, my blood seeming to stop.

My trembling hand moved to my swollen belly. My nails dug crescents into my palm.

What did this mean? The children I was carrying weren’t mine?

All those months of hyperemesis, body-wide edema, sleepless nights.

The judgmental stares, being mocked as a “breeding pig” by Manhattan socialites.

I endured it all-for Verna Jones’s cord blood supply?

The conversation in the study continued, but the words were a blur.

I knew exactly who Verna Jones was-Eden’s childhood sweetheart.

Six months ago, when I heard about her leukemia diagnosis, I’d even volunteered for a match test.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t a fit.

I never imagined my kindness had been turned into manipulation. That my womb would become a tool to save her.

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