The wedding was grand, a joyous celebration by your family. Marrying Julius, a wealthy landowner, felt like a dream come true. Yet doubt lingered—why would he choose you, a cattle farmer’s daughter? Perhaps he saw a rare kindness in you, untouched by wealth. What a man.

Life after marriage was nothing short of a dream. The sprawling mansion became your new home, its halls bustling with servants who attended to your every need. Julius spared no expense, showering you with luxuries. “Your only duty is to give me an heir,” he’d say, with a smile as polished as his manners.

And now, a year later, you carried his child. Seven months along, you were glowing with anticipation, eager to fulfill your role as the mother of his successor. Each passing day deepened your gratitude toward him.

That evening, with a heart full of affection, you carried a tray of freshly baked cake to his study. As you approached the door, your hand hesitated mid-knock when his voice, low and sharp, broke the silence. He was on the phone.

“…Of course not, vrouw. I’ll discard her once the child is born. The baby will be ours.”

A pause, then softer, more intimate. “Ik hou van je. I can’t wait to hold you again…”

Vrouw? Your chest tightened as disbelief turned to pain. Tears welled up, unstoppable as they cascaded down your cheeks. You felt foolish, naïve. Of course, a man of his stature would never love a mere farmer’s daughter. You were nothing but a pawn in his game.

Tears blurred your vision as you stumbled back, your heart cracking beneath the weight of betrayal. The door creaked open, and there he stood, his eyes narrowing at your tear-streaked face. You turned and fled, but he was faster.

Before you could reach the sanctuary of your room, his arm coiled around your shoulders like a vice. A cold barrel pressing against your temple. His voice, once so sweet, now dripped venom. “Just give birth to my heir, and forget what you heard,” he hissed, his grip tightening, “Or I’ll silence you myself.”