Eight months pregnant with our miracle baby, my husband brought his 22-year-old mistress to our baby shower. When I demanded they leave, he sneered that she carried the “real heir” while his parents applauded. Lying on the floor, I smiled through the pain. They didn’t know the FBI raid I’d arranged was set for 2:00 PM.

The room froze. Victor’s mouth opened, but before he could speak, Daniel’s voice played next.

“Mara suspects something.”

Victor laughed through the speakers.

“Mara suspects recipes and nursery colors. She’s harmless.”

I watched Daniel’s confidence collapse.

Then Agent Reeves played another recording. This time, it was Elaine.

“Make sure the prenup triggers before the child is born. If Mara loses the baby, Daniel gets sympathy and control.”

My sister whispered,

“Oh my God.”

A cold silence moved through me. I had known they wanted me gone. I had suspected the inheritance scheme. But hearing Elaine speak about my unborn child like a financial obstacle turned my pain into something harder than anger.

Daniel stared at his mother.

“You said that?”

Elaine’s lips trembled.

“I was protecting the family.”

Celeste slowly stepped away from Daniel.

He noticed.

“Where are you going?”