Bury Me in His Regret

Teresa's POV

"Choose one, Zachary Kensington." The kidnapper's gun pressed against my temple. "Your wife, or your sister-in-law?"

My belly felt heavy as lead, the rope cutting into my wrists. Valerie sobbed beside me. Zachary's enemy had tied us up side by side, waiting to die.

Zachary stood there, light behind him. I looked at him.

The eight-month-old fetus kicked inside me. I waited for him to speak. Waited for my husband—the man I'd secretly loved for ten years—to choose me, just once.

"Let Valerie go." Zachary's voice was completely flat.

The kidnapper grinned. He slammed the gun into my stomach.

Pain shot through me, and I heard the rustling sound of Valerie's ropes being untied, heard Zachary's footsteps as he escorted her away. The only thing I didn't hear was him turning back.

"Know why he chose her over you?" The kidnapper grabbed my hair. "The Kensington family has an old rule—whoever has their kid first gets to run everything. Your husband's brother died taking a bullet for him last year, leaving behind an unborn child. Tell me, he can't let his brother's bloodline die out, right?"

So that was it.

I clenched my teeth, both hands protecting my belly. Every time he hit me, I bit back my screams.

Baby, Mommy's here. Mommy's here.

I was imprisoned for two days. When the police burst in, I'd lost count of how many beatings I'd endured. They untied me and asked if I needed an ambulance.

I shook my head. Using the wall for support, I stood and walked out step by step.

Something wet ran down my legs, sticky and warm. I touched it—not blood.

It was amniotic fluid.

Trembling, I pulled out my phone and dialed his number. After seven rings, he finally answered.

"You're still alive?" His voice was tense.

"Zachary," I gasped, "I escaped. My water broke. The baby's about to..."

"Valerie was traumatized and went into premature labor." He cut me off. "The doctor says she could give birth any moment. Teresa, you had to pick now?"

I froze. "What do you mean 'pick now'? You think I can control when my water breaks?"

"Last month you signed the consent form to donate a cornea." His tone was flat. "You said you understood—my brother died for me, Valerie went blind and can't survive without it."

"I only agreed because you said you'd protect me properly afterward—" My nails dug into my palms.

"Cut the crap. Now Valerie's about to give birth, and you're saying you are too." Zachary sneered. "What a coincidence, right? Just like when you climbed into my bed—wasn't that a 'coincidence' too?"

From the other end came Valerie's weak whimper, "Zachary, it hurts..."

"I'll stay with you the whole time." His tone instantly softened. When he turned back to me, it froze to ice again. "Kurt will handle you. Don't cause me trouble."

The call ended.

I leaned against a utility pole, dry heaving. The contractions hit like a vise, every five minutes. I began shuffling toward the estate.

Three miles. It took me four hours, step by step.

Kurt stood at the gate. "Mr. Kensington's orders," he said without expression. "You need to wait."

"Wait?" I grabbed the iron gate bars. "The baby can't wait! He's coming out right now!"

"Miss Sloane is also in labor." Kurt gestured for the bodyguards to restrain me. "Mr. Kensington said the heir must be her child. Those are the rules."

I was dragged toward the basement. The stairs were cold and damp, the smell of blood mixing with mildew—this was where Zachary interrogated traitors.

"Does Zachary know about this?" I struggled. "He promised me, after donating the cornea, we'd live properly together..."

"Mr. Kensington also promised to give Miss Sloane a proper title." Kurt sneered. "You really thought getting pregnant would elevate your status? Women like you who use schemes to climb into bed—Mr. Kensington has seen plenty."

The iron door closed behind me. Restraints bound my wrists and ankles.

"Where's the nurse? Hurry up and bring the labor-delaying drugs!" Kurt sent a voice message on his phone.

"Zachary told you to give me labor-delaying drugs? Impossible! He'll kill you!"

"These are Mr. Kensington's orders exactly." Kurt sneered. "He said before Miss Sloane safely gives birth, you and this child had better stay quiet."

The contractions grew more frequent. My child kicked frantically inside me. I screamed.

"Please," I begged Kurt through my tears, "call him, tell him I really am giving birth, the drugs won't work..."

Kurt pulled out his phone and put it on speaker.

"She's still making a scene?" His voice carried exhaustion and impatience.

"Sir, Mrs. Kensington's condition doesn't look right—"

"Kurt." Zachary interrupted him. "My brother died for me. This is his only child left in the world. You understand what I mean?"

From the other end came Valerie's delicate sobbing, "It's all my fault. If I weren't so useless, I would have already..."

"It's not your fault." Zachary's tone softened, then turned cold again when he continued, "Stick to the plan. Teresa is best at acting."

Kurt put away his phone and walked to the wall to take down a cowhide whip. He cracked it in the air. "Why hasn't the nurse arrived yet?"

"Mrs. Kensington," he walked toward me, "since that's the case, let me teach you some rules first."