“I spent three years and all my savings on IVF, hoping a baby would fix my cold, crumbling marriage. On the day the doctor told me my third attempt failed, I saw my sister's new Instagram post. She was flaunting her pregnancy, and the man's hand resting intimately on her belly was wearing the custom watch I had just bought for my husband. My world shattered, but the nightmare was just beginning. My own mother dragged me to my sister's pregnancy celebration to save face. "Jase's heart isn't with you anymore. The graceful thing to do is step aside." At the party, Jase fiercely protected my sister, while my parents treated me like an inconvenient outcast. When I demanded a divorce, Jase refused to sign, wanting to keep me as a convenient cover to protect his sports career. Homeless, replaced, and betrayed by everyone I loved, I ended up drinking myself into a stupor at a downtown bar. I didn't understand why my devotion ended with me losing my home and my dignity, while they happily celebrated their betrayal. I felt like the universe's ultimate joke. But I didn't know the universe had an even crazier punchline waiting. The fertility clinic had made a catastrophic error. My IVF hadn't failed. I was pregnant. But the child wasn't my husband's. It belonged to a ruthless billionaire who had just received the news-and he was already hunting down the "scheming woman" carrying his heir.”