“I secured everything, Emily,” he had whispered softly. “No matter what happens, listen to Grant.”

At the time, the words made no sense. Now they haunted me.

If he had protected us, why did I feel completely defenseless?

The baby kicked again, hard enough to snap me back to reality.

Vivian slipped her phone into her purse and rose gracefully from the pew. She leaned down to whisper something to Madison before both of them turned toward me with identical cruel smiles.

The priest hadn’t even finished the service yet, but Vivian was already walking toward the coffin—and toward me.

The sharp clicking of her heels echoed through the cathedral like a countdown.

The room slowly fell silent.

I forced myself to stand despite my shaking legs. I needed one final goodbye before they lowered Ethan into the ground forever.

I approached the coffin and rested trembling fingers against the polished wood. It felt icy beneath my skin. A broken breath escaped me as tears dripped quietly onto the dark surface.

Then I smelled expensive perfume and danger.

A manicured hand slammed a folded medical report directly onto the coffin.

The sound cracked through the silence.

“Pack your bags, incubator,” Vivian hissed loudly enough for half the cathedral to hear.

I stared blankly at the paper.

DNA TEST RESULTS.

Probability of paternity: 0%.

“Dr. Harrison confirmed it,” Vivian announced dramatically. “You tried trapping my son with another man’s child. Ethan’s fortune belongs to his true family, not some manipulative fraud. You’ll be out of the estate tonight.”

Shock froze me in place.

Before I could even process the fake report, Madison lunged toward me.

She grabbed my left hand violently, her nails digging into my skin, and yanked my wedding ring off my swollen finger so hard pain shot up my arm.

The diamond scraped across my knuckle, tearing skin.

I gasped.

Madison laughed as she held the ring toward the stained-glass light.

“You won’t need this anymore,” she sneered.

The cathedral spun around me.

Whispers erupted everywhere.

I stood there humiliated, heartbroken, pregnant, bleeding beside the coffin of the man I loved while his family tore apart what remained of me.

Vivian turned toward the pallbearers as though preparing to have me physically removed from the church.

Then the massive cathedral doors exploded shut with a deafening boom.

Every head snapped toward the entrance.

A deep voice echoed across the room.

“Per the deceased’s legally binding instructions,” Attorney Grant Caldwell announced, “nobody leaves this cathedral until the video is played.”