My husband forced me to carry his three friends' children.

Domenico Amato, who had always refused to let me have a baby, suddenly agreed to let me do IVF. After three months of trying, I finally got pregnant with triplets.

But carrying triplets was brutal. My belly got huge, the morning sickness was awful, and I even fainted multiple times, so I was confined to bed for weeks.

The doctor strongly recommended a selective reduction, but Domenico refused without hesitation.

"We love all three of our babies," he said. "How could I bear to kill any of our children?"

I said nothing, swallowing my pain in silence. But one day, after I collapsed again, I regained consciousness to the sound of laughter coming from outside my hospital room—Domenico, his childhood sweetheart Maria Brunaldi, and his three so-called brothers.

"Domenico, you actually auctioned off her eggs to your three friends for only 15 grand just because I said I was curious to see her pregnant with triplets? You even let her get pregnant with triplets from three different dads. How could you?"

Domenico pulled her into his arms and said, "Only you deserve to have my child, Maria. She's just trash I can throw away whenever I want. Letting her carry my friends' babies is the biggest mercy she'll ever get."

One of the men chimed in, chuckling, "We paid 15 grand to get a free son. We really should thank you and Maria."

"Why don't we make a bet on the babies' genders? Whoever loses has to buy Maria a diamond necklace worth at least 1.5 million!"

I felt like I had fallen into an ice pit.

Domenico had set this trap—turning my pregnancy into an auction and a bet—and I had stupidly thought I was living a dream. I let Maria step on my back to rise up.

I wiped my tears and made an appointment for an abortion.

***

The laughter outside my room got louder and louder.

Then, Maria said in her fake sweet voice, "Oh, if Frida knew all this, she'd be so mad, huh?"

Domenico just scoffed.

"Mad? What right does she have? I only asked her to give birth to three kids, not to die. But even if I did tell her to die, she'd do it."

One of his friends beat his chest, laughing.

"Anyway, Maria's the only woman Domenico really cares about.

"I still remember when Domenico took Maria on vacation abroad for half a year. When he got back, he found out Frida was already eight months pregnant. To keep Maria from getting upset, Domenico actually told his buddies to hire some thugs to beat Frida so badly she'd miscarry.

"Tsk. Man, I almost felt sorry for her."

Maria chimed in proudly, "That was just an accident. Domenico was giving that woman birth control every day to make sure she never got pregnant. If I hadn't gotten curious and wanted to see her miserable pregnant, she wouldn't even have had the chance to give you guys a kid in her whole life."

The other friend cracked up. "Well, anyway, we spent 15 grand and got a free kid out of it, so we're happy. We really gotta thank Domenico for 'sharing' his wife for the sake of his bros and Maria."

Domenico just shrugged and scoffed. "Whatever. She's taking up a place she doesn't deserve anyway. So what if she pays a bit more? I'm not worried if she finds out. If I snap my fingers, she'd be begging to be my dog."

Their mocking laughs filled the room. Every word dripped with sarcasm and cruelty.

Hearing their laughs, I clutched my swollen belly. My nails dug into my skin as I slapped a hand over my mouth to muffle my sobs.

In those six months of IVF, I got jab after jab in my stomach. The hormones left me pale, weak, and so sick I could barely stand. I suffered so much through this pregnancy, yet the babies inside me were nothing but cheap bargaining chips for their twisted games.

What's even more insane is that I actually believed the assault and miscarriage I suffered at eight months pregnant were just a random accident. I even blamed myself and thought I was dirty after what those thugs did to me.

Who could have guessed that every bit of that humiliation and pain was part of my husband's plan all along?

He stole my child and my dignity, but after just a few words from Maria, he turned around and sold my pregnancy like it meant nothing, making me carry someone else's child instead.

I bit down so hard on my tongue that I tasted blood, the cruel things they said outside the ward still ringing in my ears. I knew exactly what they were doing—laughing about using the triplets in my belly as part of some sick bet—but I just laughed too.

And the more I laughed, the harder the tears came.

If Domenico did not love me, he could have just divorced me.

Instead, he kept hurting me, over and over, dragging me further into my own personal hell. Every bit of care and sweet words were all fake, just traps he set up, so I would ruin myself willingly for him.

Then, the door handle turned.

Domenico came in with a smile while holding a bowl of soup. He did not say a single word of comfort and just brought the spoon straight to my mouth, not even giving me a chance to say no.

"Frida, drink this. It'll help the baby come out safely."

I swallowed mechanically, my body shaking all over.

At that moment, he wasn't my husband. He was the thief who stole my dignity and the butcher slowly killing my unborn child.

The soup smelled awful and sharp. When he noticed my disgust, he even stroked my cheek like he cared and said with a soft smile, "It's made with the placenta from your last abortion. Maria said it was a secret recipe from her hometown. It works amazingly for a mom carrying triplets like you!"

Placenta?

Domenico actually believed Maria and made me drink my own placenta from a forced abortion?

My stomach turned violently.

"I don't want it. No..."

I fought to push his hand away, but before I could even react, he grabbed my chin tightly with one hand and forced the steaming soup down my throat with the other, not saying a word.

"I'm only doing this for your own good."

His voice sounded so righteous.

"You have to give birth to these three babies safely. They're the proof of our love. You didn't listen to me, so this is your punishment!"

The burning hot soup scorched my throat in seconds, leaving it raw, swollen, and bleeding. The pain crashed over me, and I just lay there like a dead fish, staring at this man blankly. He was so familiar, yet now a total stranger.

My throat burned and bled, but my heart felt frozen.

I thought to myself, "Domenico, is what's in my belly really the proof of our love?

"Did you ever feel even a shred of guilt for ripping my body apart like this, or did it just thrill you to help Maria satisfy her twisted curiosity?"

Domenico smoothed out the cruelty on his face and held my hand like he cared, his palm brushing my cheek so gently.

"Frida, I feel bad for you, too. If you'd just drunk it nicely, I wouldn't have had to force you."

Classic carrot and stick.

However, I was done drowning in this fake fairytale he built for me. I knew if he ever found out I wanted to abort these babies, he would probably lock me away forever.

I curled my lips into a cold smile. "I need to rest. You can leave now."

Domenico looked like he had been waiting for me to say that. He got up right away, almost like he was relieved, and walked out of the ward without even glancing back. As soon as the door closed, I dragged my broken body into the bathroom, wishing I could tear my whole stomach out. My throat was so raw I could barely breathe. I pounded my chest with my fist, but it did nothing. Nausea and fear kept choking me. It was the middle of June, but I was shaking like it was winter.

Deep down, I knew that it was not just my placenta, it was my unborn baby's flesh and blood too.

"Domenico, how did you become like this?" I sighed inwardly.

After throwing up everything I could, I could not even stand. I crawled back onto the hospital bed, my body a mess. My phone would not stop buzzing, and they were all messages from Maria.

"So what if you're Domenico's wife? He still runs after me. If I snap my fingers, he'd hand over his life."

I scrolled through the photos she sent. They were all receipts for luxury goods.

A birthday party that cost a fortune.

A drone show with tens of thousands of drones.

All her provocations flaunted right in my face.

Domenico did not care about my dignity at all. He just wanted everyone to know Maria was his true love, while I was nothing but a stand-in wearing the title of "wife." I was not even worth a shred of pity.

My heart cracked wide open as tears dripped onto my phone screen.

These were the romantic dreams I used to beg Domenico to make come true for me. He always had an excuse to say no. But for Maria? No matter how big or complicated, he did it all willingly.

After I booked the abortion, I left the hospital by myself.

This time, I did not make a fuss or call Domenico.

Yet, he took the initiative to send me money out of the blue.

He remarked, "For the babies."

I knew he was probably trying to act like he was giving me a way out, but I just hit reject without thinking twice.

Back then, whenever he messaged me first, I would cling to him so shamelessly, begging for any scrap of his attention. Looking back now, it was laughable. To him, I'm nothing but trash—something to toss aside, never worthy of his love, only his disgust.

When he saw I refused the money, he got mad and sent me a voice note.

"Frida, before you get mad at me, think about whether you even have the right to. Don't be so ungrateful. If anything happens to the babies in your belly, you'll die too!"

It was a blatant threat.

Yet, I did not care anymore.

That night, when I got back to the villa, I saw Domenico and Maria tangled up on the couch like a couple of lovebirds. The air reeked of their sickening intimacy. Her underwear, carelessly thrown on the floor, stabbed at my eyes like a knife. I stood there frozen, my fists clenched so tight they hurt. I could not even get a word out.

Maria still looked flushed, but she stood up with fake innocence dripping from her voice. "Frida, don't get the wrong idea. Domenico and I were just discussing work, and this position is just more efficient."

Then she shot me a smug look, her lips curling in mock sympathy. "Frida, don't worry, I'd never try to steal your place in Domenico's heart. After all, I can't pop out triplets like you. Not everyone's cut out to be a baby machine, you know?"

Her soft, mocking laugh was like needles stabbing straight into my chest.

I acted like I did not hear a word she said and turned to leave, but out of nowhere, Maria's legs gave out, and she dropped to the floor. Her eyes instantly turned red as tears spilled out.

"Frida, if you don't like me, just say it. Why did you push me? I'm sorry, I know I was wrong..."

She knelt in front of me, fake crying and grabbing my legs like she was begging for her life.

"Frida, you always made me apologize when I messed up before, but I've learned my lesson. Please don't be mad at me..."

Domenico came over and helped her up, saying, "Stop crying."

For a second, I thought he saw right through her pathetic act, but the next thing I knew, his hand cracked across my face so hard it rang in my ears. His voice was ice-cold when he said, "Frida, are you insane? How can you bully Maria like this? Do you really think you're Mrs. Amato?"

Before I could even react, he grabbed a vase and smashed it on my head, yelling, "You think just because you're pregnant you can do whatever you want? Who even knows whose kid you're carrying, you filthy woman?"

Warm blood gushed down my forehead, and the sharp pain spread like wildfire. I bit down on my lip to keep from crying out, but my knees buckled, and I hit the ground. I just lay there, laughing at myself through the pain.

"Don't you know best whose baby this is?" I thought to myself.

He turned me into this ghost of a person, and now he wanted to use it to shame me like I'm trash?

"What did I even do wrong? Why do you hate me so much?" I asked. Then, for a second, Domenico froze. There was a flicker of guilt and hesitation in his eyes, but then he just grabbed my shoulders and spat, "Apologize to Maria!"

I fought to break free, but he yanked my hair back, dragged me down, and slammed his knee into mine so hard I dropped to the floor. Then, he forced my head down, smashing it against the cold tile again and again.

"Didn't you hear me? I told you to apologize!"

Pain, shame, and pure disgust washed over me in waves. I just let him hurt me, my body shaking, but my lips shut tight.

Yet, Maria was not done.

She looked at me with a twisted grin, grabbed a bottle of something she had hidden, and lunged at me. Domenico's eyes widened, and he yelled, "Maria, that's sulfuric acid!"

She did not even flinch. She dumped it right on me, her voice dripping with hate.

"Frida, filthy women like you should be burned clean with acid. You bullied me for so long, and now it's my turn to get even."

The acid burned into my skin like fire, and I let out a sharp, broken scream.

My hands and feet blistered and split open in seconds, pus and blood oozing out while I lay there paralyzed, my breath catching in my throat. Everything started to go dark.

The last thing I saw before I blacked out was Domenico holding Maria tightly with panic all over his face. He was worried she might get splashed too. Meanwhile, I was sprawled on the floor like a dying stray dog that no one cared about or pitied.

When I opened my eyes again, all I could smell was disinfectant.

The acid burns were half-wrapped up in bandages. No one was there waiting for me. I expected that, but the emptiness still cut deep. I dragged my half-broken body down the hall to the OB-GYN and told the doctor straight up that I wanted the abortion done now.

The pain of the procedure was worse than I had ever imagined. I screamed on that cold table, but deep down, I actually felt a wave of relief. After all these wasted years, I finally made up my mind to break away from him for good. He betrayed me over and over, and I finally chose myself.

When it was over, I did not even look at those three tiny bodies. I just had the doctor seal them in a box and arrange a same-day courier pickup.

Back at the villa, it was chaos.

Domenico and his so-called "friends" were partying, all hyped up about their twisted bet on my babies. They were laughing while demanding he announce the results right there.

"Can't we just drag Frida in here and do a blood test in front of everyone? Why wait for her to give birth?" Maria smirked.

Domenico frowned for once. "No need.

"That'll hurt her."

Before he could say more, a delivery guy showed up.

"Mr. Domenico Amato, you have a same-day delivery. The sender is Frida Calandra."