THE PRESIDENT'S LOST DAUGHTER

My Mafia husband was always deeply saddened whenever I miscarried. For five years, I lost eight babies, each one at six months. He said he needed an heir and claimed each loss devastated him.

He arranged for a nutritionist to help me get healthy enough to carry a child to term.

One afternoon, I got my test results, it was positive. I was finally pregnant again. Heart pounding, I rushed to tell Matteo.

But I stopped outside his office when I heard him talking to his best friend, Daniel.

"You can't keep making Elena lose her babies for that woman!" Daniel snapped.

"I don’t care about her pain," Matteo replied coldly. "I won't risk Camila’s life just to let Elena have a child."

"You're sacrificing your own blood for another woman?"

"Camila is more important. She’s perfect, and the president’s daughter. Our family needs her.”

My heart shattered.

He never loved me. I was just a tool. A body. A placeholder.

All those babies… all that pain… It was because of him.

And all for someone else.

But this is not over. I would make him pay.

--

Elena's POV

"Oh no, this can't be happening." I whispered quietly to myself as I leaned closer to the study door. My hands wouldn't stop trembling as I listened more.

"You can't keep making Elena lose her babies for that woman!" Daniel’s, my husband's best friend, voice was filled with anger. "Do you even realize how much pain you're putting her through with every miscarriage?"

"I don’t care about her pain," Matteo, my husband, replied coldly. "I'm not going to put Camila's life in jeopardy just to let Elena have a child."

Daniel’s tone sharpened. "You're throwing away your own blood just to keep another woman happy?"

"Camila is more important," Matteo snapped. "She has the perfect body, and she's the president’s daughter. Do you know what that means? Our Mafia family needs her."

He exhaled sharply before adding, "And besides, her doctor said she won’t survive without the stem cells from premature babies. Her bone marrow is failing, Daniel. If we wait too long, the baby’s stem cells won’t be useful anymore. She needs them at six months—no later."

"Since Camila is the president's daughter, she can get help easily. Why use innocent Elena?"

"Daniel, you sound so foolish," Matteo sneered. "Camila is the president's only child. This is our chance to secure strong protection for our family. And I don’t know why you sound so concerned—Elena is a nobody. She’s just an orphan from the gutters. Camila is everything we need, and we can’t lose her. Elena is the only option."

A sharp pain shot through my chest, knocking the breath out of me. My hands trembled as I clutched my stomach, tears blurring my vision. A nobody. That’s all I am to him.

I stared at the phone in my hand, the screen still glowing with the email from my doctor. I was going to tell Matteo—I was pregnant again. I had let myself hope, thinking this time would be different. But then I heard them.

A sob broke free from my throat, my knees buckling. Eight babies—gone. And he never cared. I pressed a hand over my mouth, trying to quiet my cries, but the pain clawed at me, tearing me apart. How could he do this? How could he take away everything from me and still act like I didn’t matter?

Just as I struggled to process everything, their voices moved closer to the door.

“You shouldn’t be questioning your boss so much, Daniel. Let’s check the shipment details before it gets too late.”

The doorknob turned. Our eyes met.

Matteo’s gaze flicked over my face, his expression unreadable. “Baby, your eyes… they’re so red,” he said smoothly, like he hadn’t just admitted to killing all my children.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing a small, shaky smile. “It’s just sawdust,” I murmured. “I was cleaning earlier.”

“Oh, baby, the cleaners can do that,” Matteo murmured, pressing a kiss to my forehead, his hands settling on my body.

But it felt different. Cold. Empty. The way he held me used to feel safe, full of love. Now, all I felt was the touch of a liar. A killer.

“You don’t need to stress, baby,” he continued, his voice smooth, almost soothing. “You need to stay healthy, remember?”

My chest tightened. My stomach churned. Healthy—for what? To carry another child he’d never let live?

I forced a nod, biting down the scream clawing at my throat. My eyes flicked to Daniel’s, and for a split second, I saw it—the pity. The silent apology.

I blinked fast, tearing my gaze away. If I let myself break down now, I’d never recover.

“You know what, baby? Let’s go for a swim. Let’s see who wins,” Matteo said, gripping my wrist as he pulled me along.

I forced another nod, my body moving on autopilot. Pretending. Just like I always did.

At the pool, he pulled off his shirt, acting like everything was normal. Like he hadn’t just confessed to destroying me. I felt a great sense of betrayal, but I kept my face neutral. Then his phone chimed.

It was right there. Within reach.

Matteo was in the pool, swimming laps, his powerful strokes slicing through the water. He was too focused to notice anything else.

My pulse hammered as I glanced through. I read the text—

And everything around me seemed to stop.

[Baby, are you sure the wedding will still happen? There’s been an emergency.]

My fingers tightened around the phone as I scrolled down.

[Baby, my bone marrow is failing fast. The doctor says I might not have a year. We need stem cells from a premature baby.]

The words blurred. My breath caught in my throat.

I had never mattered. Not me. Not my babies.

Chapter 2

Elena’s POV

“Baby, you’re not swimming?”

Matteo hurried over, grabbing his phone without knowing I had already seen the message from his lover. Water dripped from his body, but all I could focus on was the truth—I was nothing to him. He still wanted to kill my baby.

I swallowed hard and forced a small smile, nodding. My chest tightened with anger, but I kept my face calm.

I watched him, wondering how I had been so blind. How did I not see the kind of man he really was? The thought made my chest tighten, and before I knew it, the tears spilled over.

The moment he noticed, his face twisted with concern—fake, just like everything else. He quickly knelt beside me. “What’s wrong, my love? Why are you crying?” His voice was gentle, but I knew better now. Before, I might have leaned into his touch, let him hold me. But now? I could barely stand him.

“Please, talk to me,” he pressed, reaching for my hands. “You know it hurts me to see you like this.”

I pulled away, wiping my face. “I’m fine,” I whispered. Then, after a shaky breath, I added, “I just… I feel useless. My body is too weak to give you a child. I’m so sorry.” The words felt heavy, but not because they were true. I wasn’t apologizing for my body—I was apologizing for ever believing in him.

He let out a soft chuckle and brushed a tear from my cheek. “You don’t need to be sorry,” he said, wrapping his arms around me from behind. “We’ll keep trying. We’ll get through this together.” His voice was smooth, comforting—just like always.

I almost laughed. We? There was no "we" anymore.

“Baby, I promise things will get better,” he said, reaching for my hand. “I’ll talk to a health expert and see how we can improve your diet. Also, don’t forget to meet with the gynecologist for your checkups.”

I simply nodded, gently pulling my hand away. “I feel cold.”

He said playfully. “Are you sure? We haven’t had enough fun.”

“I don’t have the energy for that anymore. I’ll just take a shower and sleep.” Without waiting for his response, I stood up and walked inside.

“Alright,” he called after me. “I’ll just check the shipping details and join you soon.”

I scoffed silently. Check the shipping details or reply to Camila’s text?

Once inside the bedroom, I shut the door and let out a slow breath. My body felt heavy, weighed down by the truth I could no longer ignore. I walked over to the closet, searching for a sweater when my fingers brushed against something hard behind a stack of neatly folded shirts.

A laptop.

I pulled it out, hesitating for a moment before opening it. The screen lit up, revealing an unlocked gallery. My chest tightened as I clicked on the most recent album.

The first image stole the air from my lungs.

Camila. Matteo. Their lips tangled in a deep kiss.

I scrolled through more photos—different places, different moments. The truth played out before me in stolen glances and secret touches.

So while he claimed he had to meet with overseas clients to strengthen business ties, he was busy with Camila.

***

Matteo walked into the room with Chef Liang trailing behind him, carrying a tray of steaming Peking duck.

"Baby, you need to eat," Matteo said, setting the tray down beside me.

I shifted uncomfortably on the bed, my stomach twisting at the sight of the food.

"Tomorrow is my parents' wedding anniversary," he continued, picking up a spoonful of Peking duck and offering it to me.

“Baby, you know your duties and you know…”

"I'm just going to be your personal housekeeper," I cut in.

All these years of our marriage, that’s all I had been—his housekeeper at family events. Because I wasn’t from an influential family, and his Mafia father wouldn’t love to hear that.

Matteo sighed, rubbing his temple. "Baby, you know in a Mafia family, we marry influential people. My father wouldn't like to hear I settled for you, but I'll handle that. I love you so much,” he added, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

Irritation boiled inside me.

“Baby, are you sure you are not pregnant?”

I hesitated, nausea creeping up my throat.

"No, baby, I'm not sure I want to eat this," I muttered, turning my head away.

Matteo’s lips curled into a small smirk. "Elena, I know you too well. When you're pregnant, you don’t eat Peking duck. And you also refuse to swim—just like yesterday."

My whole body stiffened.

“No, it's just the weather, baby,” I said quickly.

He leaned back against the chair, sighing dramatically.

Right then, his phone buzzed. He barely glanced at the screen before standing up.

"It’s a call from Dad." he said quickly, already heading for the door.

I scoffed internally. Right. A business call. While he claimed he had urgent meetings overseas to handle family affairs, he was busy entertaining Camila.

As soon as he left, I turned my gaze to the untouched food. My stomach churned again, but this time, it wasn’t just from the nausea.

I needed to get out of this mess.

Chapter 3

Elena's POV

Matteo came back a few hours later, moving in a rush.

“Baby, we’re leaving now,” he said, grabbing a few things. “Mum just called. You need to help with the meals. Hurry up.”

I hesitated, my grip tightening around the edge of my dress. My stomach churned with irritation, but I grabbed a few of my things anyway. It wasn’t like I had a choice.

A few hours later, we arrived at his parents’ house. There were only a few people around, but then I saw her—Camilla. She was smiling, holding onto Matteo’s father like she belonged there. His soon-to-be daughter-in-law.

“Oh, my baby!” his mother gushed, pulling Matteo into a hug. “Thank you for bringing me a help.”

Then her sharp gaze landed on me.

“You!” she snapped. “Get into the kitchen and start doing the dishes.”

I clenched my fists, forcing myself to swallow the anger rising inside me. Matteo stole me a glance, giving me a soft nod—his silent way of telling me to just do as they said.

I turned and walked toward the kitchen, my nails digging into my palm. This was all I was ever going to be—a house help.

Laughter filled the house, their voices carrying easily through the walls. I reached the sink, gripping the counter to steady myself, but then I felt it—warm breath hovering near my ear.

I turned sharply.

Camilla stood behind me, her lips curling in amusement.

“You stink,” she sneered. “I wonder how he puts up with you.”

Tears gathered in my eyes, but I blinked them back. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing me break.

Camilla smirked, stepping even closer. “I can’t wait to get my father’s approval so I can finally marry Matteo. But for now, you can keep being our puppet.” Her voice dripped with mockery. “Oh, and be useful—produce more babies for my stem cell.”

Her words hit like a slap, knocking the air from my lungs.

She leaned in, her breath warm against my cheek. “Why are you looking at me like that? You think you don’t deserve this?”

I swallowed hard. “Why are you being so wicked? I don’t deserve this.”

A cruel laugh escaped her lips. “You don’t deserve anything good. You’re just an ordinary orphan. No one cares about you.”

The words cut deeper than I wanted to admit.

She tilted her head, her eyes shining with pure malice. Then, before I could react, she shoved me back against the counter, the sharp edge digging into my spine.

I winced, but she wasn’t done.

Her fingers tightened around my arm, nails pressing into my skin. “Do you know how much I envy you?” she hissed, her voice low but laced with venom. “You can carry children. I can’t. And it disgusts me that someone like you gets to have what I never will.”

I froze, a chill running down my spine.

She smirked, her grip tightening. “But it doesn’t matter. Matteo will kill all your children anyway. And I’ll be here to watch.”

Camilla smirked, pressing her heel harder against my foot before stepping back. “Get used to it. This is your life now.”

I clenched my fists, swallowing the humiliation burning inside me. But then, a sharp wave of nausea rolled through me. My stomach twisted violently.

No. Not now.

I tried to breathe through it, to force it down, but it was useless. The bile rose too fast. My body lurched forward as I turned, desperate to escape.

I staggered into the dining hall, my vision blurring. Matteo’s mother stood near the table, her sharp gaze already locked on me.

Before I could stop it, it happened.

I bent forward and vomited—right on her.

Burst rippled through the room. The laughter, the casual conversations—everything stopped.

Matteo’s mother stood frozen, her expensive dress stained. Horror twisted her face as she looked down at herself.

Then came the scream.

“What the heck is wrong with you?!” she shrieked.

Before I could even catch my breath, Camilla stepped in behind me, her voice dripping with fake concern.

“Oh my God,” she exclaimed Then, her lips curled into a wicked smile as she turned to Matteo.

“Your house help is pregnant,” she announced, loud enough for the entire room to hear.

A heavy silence fell over the house.

Camilla folded her arms, a victorious glint in her eyes. “She looks pregnant.”

Matteo’s mother turned slowly, her expression darkening.

And just like that, everything exploded.

Chapter 4

Elena's POV

“How can you keep someone like her as a house help? You need to get rid of her!” his mother spat before storming into the bathroom to clean herself.

I stood frozen, my heart pounding.

“Are you okay?” Matteo asked, stepping closer to help me up.

Before I could respond, Camilla’s voice rang out, louder this time, meant for everyone to hear.

“All you do is throw yourself at men! You’re such a shame!”

Murmurs of disgust rippled through the room. I could feel their judgment, their stares burning into me like hot iron. Shame tightened around my chest, suffocating me.

Tears threatened to spill, but I held them back, swallowing the lump in my throat.

Before I could catch my breath, his mother returned, her eyes burning with renewed contempt.

“You can’t work in this family,” she sneered. “You’re so incompetent. You ruined a dress you couldn’t afford in a hundred years.”

Camilla sighed dramatically, stepping forward as if to defend me. “Sorry, Mother. Please ignore her,” she said, but the smirk on her lips betrayed her words. She crossed her arms, tilting her head. “I mean, accidents happen, right? She just… wasn’t raised with proper etiquette.”

A few snickers rippled through the room.

My stomach clenched. “I’m so sorry, ma,” I muttered, my voice barely holding steady. “I didn’t mean to—”

But the humiliation was too much. Without another word, I turned and rushed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me.

A few seconds later, Matteo followed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything back there,” he murmured, his voice soft. “Just ignore them, please. I’m here for you.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead.

I forced a smile, though my chest still felt tight.

“But baby, if you were pregnant, why would you want to keep it to yourself?”

I blinked, frowning. “Exactly. I have no reason to do that—I’m not pregnant.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry. We’ll check with the doctor once we get home.”

He glanced toward the door. “You know Mum needs me. Let me run along.”

***

I didn’t go back inside. Instead, I slipped out onto the balcony, tears burning in my eyes. The cool air did little to ease the ache in my chest. I wished—just for once—that my life could be different. That I could escape this endless cycle of humiliation.

Footsteps approached behind me.

“There you are,” Camilla said smoothly. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

I stiffened but didn’t turn around.

She stepped closer, her voice dripping with mock concern. “If you’re pregnant, you should tell Matteo. Hiding it won’t do you any good.” She leaned in slightly. “Because even if you do, he’ll find out… and when he does, the baby will be killed.”

A cold smirk curled on her lips. “You have nowhere to go,” she added, her tone laced with satisfaction.

The words sliced through me, but before I could respond, she straightened and clapped her hands together.

“Now, get back to the kitchen and do the dishes.”

Then, just like that, she turned and walked away as if I was nothing.

But then, hushed voices caught my attention.

I turned slightly, pressing myself against the railing. Daniel stood just a few feet away, papers clutched tightly in his hands. He was speaking urgently to Matteo, unaware of my presence.

“I just confirmed it,” Daniel said, his voice low but firm. “Camilla is not the president’s daughter.”

My breath hitched.

Matteo stiffened. “What?”

“She was switched at birth,” Daniel continued. “The nurse who did it finally confessed—and it's going viral. She was paid to swap the babies, and the child she replaced…” He exhaled sharply. “It was Elena.”

Shock slammed into me like a tidal wave.

Me.