Love Like Stars Sinking to the Ocean Floor

On the day the twins were supposed to be born, my wife bought up all the tocolytics in the hospital, refusing to let the children come into this world.

The nurses kept urging me to sign the surgical consent form so they could perform an emergency delivery—otherwise, the babies would suffocate.

Yet I remained silent.

Because in my past life, Helena Taylor had been diagnosed with congenital infertility. To secure an heir, she kept eightyeight male models by her side, entertaining her every day.

She coaxed me, saying that if I could just get her pregnant, she would send all those men away the moment our child was born and make our baby the rightful heir.

I believed her. Step by step, kowtowing with every move, I spent three days and nights climbing to the most sacred fertility temple, praying only for a child with her.

When Helena finally conceived twins, I was overjoyed.

But on the day of delivery, she stubbornly delayed labor. I knelt, begging her to give birth before it was too late.

Later, when she emerged from the delivery room, I held our twins in my arms, tears of joy streaming down my face as I presented them to her.

Yet her face darkened. She snatched the babies and slammed them onto the ground—blood splattered everywhere.

Ignoring my screams, she ordered her bodyguards to drag me to a fresh grave and forced me to kowtow until my forehead split open.

"If you hadn’t driven Lucian away back then, the child in my belly would have been his! The heir should have been ours!" she shrieked. "I was going to claim Lucian’s child as my firstborn before these bastards were even born—to make him the heir! But you refused! You forced me to have your children!"

"Now you and these two abominations have stolen what rightfully belonged to Lucian and his child! You drove them to despair and suicide! I’ll make you pay with your life!"

I was beaten to death right there, at Lucian’s grave.

But when I opened my eyes again—I was back on the day she refused to give birth.

This time, I wouldn’t stop her. I’d let her have her "happy family of three."

The doctors and nurses were still pleading desperately: "Helena, you must deliver now! Any longer and the babies will die!"

Helena waved them off impatiently, her bodyguards shoving the medical staff aside. Then she turned to me, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Jack Wellington, if you dare sign that form, I’ll divorce you."

For a moment, I froze—then it hit me. I’d really gone back.

Hearing her threat, I didn’t fall to my knees and beg like I had in my past life.

Instead, I sat down calmly and said, "Fine. I’ll do as you say."

My obedience startled her. "Sarcasm won’t work," she snapped. "I’m not having these babies."

Just then, a bodyguard burst in. "Lucian and his son have returned to the country!"

Helena’s face lit up with joy. "Perfect!" she declared. "I hereby name Lucian’s child as my firstborn—my heir!"

"As for these two in my belly—get them out now. I need to see my Lucian!"

Even after enduring a lifetime of pain, hearing her treat our children like this still tore at my heart.

Thirty minutes later, Helena, ignoring postpartum recovery, changed into a tight, revealing outfit and left.

A nurse came running out, screaming, "You can’t take the babies! Their heartbeats are fading—they need emergency NICU care!"

My chest clenched—Helena’s bodyguards were forcibly carrying the infants away.

I rushed after them, but before I could reach my children, one of the guards knocked me out cold with a single punch.

The next thing I knew, I was being dragged away—straight to a press conference.

Helena's male model lovers were also brought to the scene.

Everyone, including me, was surrounded by bodyguards, their thick arms wielding clubs that struck our legs and lower bodies.

The venue was instantly filled with screams and wails, the stench of blood quickly permeating the air.

"Even if Helena has a child, Mr. Helena wants to deal with us. But why cripple us?! Ah, it hurts! Help—"

I, too, was kicked to the ground by the bodyguards, nailed clubs raining down on me, leaving my flesh mangled within seconds.

My cries startled the male models present, who panicked:

"Why is Helena's husband here too? Then who exactly wants all of us dead?"

Rolling in pain, I gritted my teeth and shouted outside: "Help!"

Just then, Lucian in a white suit walked in arminarm with Helena, holding a little boy's hand, his face brimming with smug satisfaction.

The moment Helena entered and saw her male model lovers lying battered on the floor, her expression changed instantly.

"Who told you to touch them?!"

Lucian covered his nose and said, "Oh my, how did all these brothers end up crippled? Who was so cruel as to ruin them all?"

Before he could finish, Helena glared at me and kicked me hard in the stomach.

"You damn dog of a man! You tried to cripple them behind my back—you're consumed by jealousy!"

Doubled over in pain, I looked at Lucian standing behind her, his face triumphant.

I gritted out, "I didn’t... It must be him—"

"Still denying it?" she roared. "You think I don’t know? This isn’t the first time you’ve harmed others out of jealousy! In this life, I won’t indulge you anymore."

She barked at the bodyguards, "Make every male model slap him once. After this, I’ll send you all to the best hospitals for treatment. The one who hits the hardest gets a million as a reward."

The bodyguards pinned me down in the center, ignoring the blood still pouring from my wounds.

The boys stepped forward, slapping me, their eyes apologetic: "Sorry, Mr. Jack..."

One after another, slap after slap, until my ears rang and my vision blurred, one ear now deafened.

Only after everyone had been taken away did Helena finally take Lucian's child by the hand and pull Lucian to stand before me.

Looking at my bloodsoaked body and bleeding face, a flicker of hesitation flashed in her eyes.

But the next moment, she lifted her chin and said coldly:

"Don’t blame me for making them hit you. I had to teach you a lesson—so you’d know this is what happens if you dare act out of jealousy or harm others again."

"Otherwise, you’d just scheme to steal Lucian and his child’s position as heirs again."

I shuddered and looked up at her.

So… I wasn’t the only one who had been reborn.

No wonder the moment Lucian spoke, she immediately blamed me.

No wonder she said this "wasn’t the first time" I’d done this.

Because in our past life, she’d also falsely accused me, sentencing me to death for Lucian’s sake.

My eyes reddened, but she only said coldly:

"Jack, playing pitiful won’t work this time. In this life, I wasn’t fooled into giving birth early, letting your child steal the position of my firstborn and heir from Lucian’s."

I let out a bitter laugh, clutching my bleeding body, and whispered:

"Helena… This time, I didn’t stop you from delaying the birth. I stepped aside with our children to make way for your family of three. So why… why won’t you let me go? Why must you still kill my children…?"

She froze, brows furrowing.

"You crippled them, yet you act like you’re dying just from a few slaps—and now you’re saying I won’t let you go? What exactly have I done to you?"

"The children are perfectly fine in the nursery—stop using them as an excuse!"

I begged her repeatedly to return my children—they needed emergency treatment.

Her face twisted in disgust as she shook off my hand impatiently.

"Enough with the act. If you’d just behaved, I wouldn’t have touched those two bastards. Oh, and at tomorrow’s press conference, you’ll publicly admit that you were the infertile one, that you were useless, which is why I had Quentin with Lucian."

"Then you’ll transfer all your shares and assets to him and his child. From now on, you’ll serve them both properly."

"If you dare scheme again—if you so much as touch a single hair on his head—what I do next won’t just be to you and those bastards. Your critically ill father? Don’t expect him to keep resting peacefully in that VIP hospital room."

My eyes widened in disbelief.

"Helena, have you no conscience?! My father is in a vegetative coma because he saved you! How can you threaten his life?!"

Helena scoffed. "As long as you serve Lucian well, take care of Quentin, and don’t upset them, I won’t touch him."

With that, she left arminarm with Lucian.

"Lucian, thank you for giving me such a perfect heir. I’ll reward you properly tonight."

Blood gushed from my wounds as I pleaded with the remaining bodyguards to take me to the hospital—to bring my children back.

Then my motherinlaw rushed in. Seeing the blooddrenched hall and my shattered legs, she paled.

"Get him to a hospital now! Where are my grandchildren?! If anything happens to them—!"

Only then were the children and I taken to the hospital. But the doctors never came.

Furious, my motherinlaw demanded answers.

The nurses hesitated.

"Mrs. Taylor... all the doctors in the city were summoned to Riverside Villa. Lucian pricked his finger during a blood draw, and Helena panicked. She ordered every physician to stand by."

"Right now... there are no doctors available."

My motherinlaw made call after call, shaking. "This is insanity! Her husband and children are dying, yet she hoards every doctor for that homewrecker and his illegitimate brat?!"

On the tenth call, Helena finally answered, annoyed.

"What now? Did Jack send you to bother me again?"

"Jack is hemorrhaging—he’s unconscious! The babies’ heartbeats have stopped! Are you trying to kill your own family?!"

Helena laughed coldly. "Did Jack put you up to this? A few slaps couldn’t cause hemorrhaging."

"And I saw those children taken to the nursery. They were fine then. Think harder before lying."

"Enough. I’m taking Quentin’s newborn photos. If he needs a doctor so badly, fine—I’ll send one."

As the call ended, my motherinlaw gripped my hand.

"Hold on, Jack. Help is coming."

I clutched my children, feeling their life fading.

In our past life, they’d died without ever opening their eyes—without even a single cry—as Helena smashed them against the floor.

Trembling, I squeezed her hand.

"Motherinlaw... three years ago, when my father fell into a coma saving Helena, you promised to treat me as your own son. That if Helena turned against me... you’d help me divorce her."

"I beg you, let me divorce her. I won't stand in the way of her first love's son inheriting anything—I just want my children to live."

Tears streamed down my motherinlaw's face as she whispered,

"Back then, it was only to repay your father's sacrifice that I agreed to take you in as my godson. But it was Helena who confessed to you, who proposed—she loved you so much. How did it come to this? That bastard Lucian ruined everything! If he hadn't returned..."

I laughed bitterly. Yes... how had my childhood sweetheart, the girl who blushed at our comingofage ceremony and swore to love me forever—who vowed she'd "die a thousand cuts" if she ever betrayed me—become this?

Now, for another man, she was the one carving me apart.

"Please... Mrs. Taylor," I gasped, each word a struggle.

Hearing my fading voice, she finally nodded.

"Fine! When you married, I made her sign divorce papers in secret—just in case this day came. I'll retrieve them now and expedite everything!"

"By tomorrow, I'll declare your children as my sole heirs. That ungrateful wretch and her bastard can rot!"

She left in a hurry.

Alone in the hospital bed, pain—physical and emotional—engulfed me. I screamed until my voice shattered.

The assistant my motherinlaw had left behind kept frantically checking the door for Helena's promised doctor.

At last, someone arrived.

But it wasn't a doctor—just a delivery man.

Stunned by the bloodied emergency room, he awkwardly handed over a package. A single bandaid fell out.

"Helena says... it's just a flesh wound. 'Not lifethreatening.' Stick this on and stop bothering her on her wedding night."

The assistant hurled the package against the wall, eyes red.

"Sir, we're transferring you to another city—now. Hold on!"

But darkness swallowed me before I could respond.

I woke to a bucket of icecold water.

Helena loomed over me, disgust twisting her face.

"Enough pretending. You knew I was announcing Lucian's heir status tomorrow—yet you fled to another city? Trying to paint him as a villain?"

Behind her, Lucian cradled their child, the picture of wounded innocence.

"Mr. Jack... hate me all you want, but why involve my son? Your assistant kept screaming that my boy would be given to you—that I'm 'unfit' to be heir..."

I tried to speak, but only a choked whimper escaped. Desperate, I shook my head.

"No... I didn't... Helena, the children—they're dying—"

"Lies!" She kicked my bed. "My mother left with lawyers in the middle of the night—your doing! You think stealing Lucian's child will make you heir?"

"Those babies were born healthy! What more do you want? Using children as pawns—you're vile!"

Agony seared through my body. The blood had long dried, crusted against my skin, reeking of rust and decay.

Lucian gagged behind his hand, his voice trembling with faux distress. "Mr. Jack... you know I can't stand the smell of blood. Yet you refuse to wash—are you trying to make me faint on purpose?"

"Look at yourself!" Helena's lip curled in disgust. "A deranged, stinking mess. Pathetic."

With a wave of her hand, she ordered the bodyguards to douse me with bucket after bucket of icy water until my lips turned blue and my body seized from hypothermia. Only then did she signal them to stop.

But Lucian wasn't finished. Clutching his child, he staged a performance worthy of an award.

"Mr. Jack, I beg you—don't take my son from me! If you insist on stealing him... I'll jump from this window right now!"

He lunged toward the glass. Helena caught him just in time.

Whirling on me, she kicked away my clutching hand and leaned down, her voice a venomous whisper.

"You think scheming with my mother will make you heir? That you can steal what belongs to Lucian and his child? I've locked down the family estate. Your plans are worthless."

"And you—how many times must I warn you? Hurt Lucian or his son again, and I'll take permanent measures."

She straightened, snapping at the guards.

"He drove Lucian to suicide. Punish him accordingly. Go—rip out his father's oxygen tube and throw the old man from the roof."

"HELENA!" My scream tore through the room. "He saved your life! YOU OWE HIM EVERYTHING!"

"Debt paid." Her laugh was glacial. "Your father orchestrated my 'accident' to force a marriage—so his lowborn son could wed a Taylor heiress. Well, you got your title. I bore your 'heirs.' But your brats were too slow—Lucian's son arrived first. I owe you nothing now."

"Do it."

I lunged at the guards—only to be beaten down, my clothes shredded.

Dried wounds split open. Blood erupted like a geyser, painting the floor crimson.

I writhed, howling.

Helena moved to drag me up—then froze.

The violent motion had exposed my lacerated flesh... and the crumpled NICU surgery notice that fell from my tattered clothes.

Her face drained of color.

Suddenly she was on her knees, cradling me, whirling on Lucian and the guards.

"WHAT DID YOU DO? I said bring him here—not mutilate him! And this notice—Lucian, you swore the twins were safe with nurses!"

Lucian paled—but recovered instantly, tears welling on command. "They are safe! Jack must've faked this to frame me... but I anticipated his tricks!"

He shoved his phone at her. The screen showed a onemonthold infant in a grainy, obviously staged video.

The guards chimed in eagerly: "We'd never harm Mr. Jack! He probably wore special effects makeup to trick you, ma'am!"

Helena barely glanced at the phone before believing it.

The bodyguards' words sent her into a fresh rage. She raised her stiletto and kicked me square in the head.

My skull cracked against the floor. Blood sprayed.

"You dare lie to me?!" she snarled. "Fake wounds? Fake medical notices? How low can you sink?!"

"Think I'd fall for it again? Dream on!"

Her heels pistoned into my abdomen—over, over—until the air reeked of copper and my screams turned hoarse.

"Pplease... stop..."

My pleas dissolved into whimpers as my body shut down, leaving me a twitching husk in a pool of my own blood.

She shook gore from her jacket and turned to Lucian, all saccharine apology.

"Sorry you had to see that, darling. Let me clean up this trash, then we'll honeymoon in the Maldives—my treat for doubting you."

Lucian sniffled, the picture of selfsacrifice. "But... if we leave, Mr. Jack might... might take my child. Maybe I should just disappear..."

A masterstroke.

Helena's face darkened. "Oh no," she purred, stroking his hair. "I'll ensure he never touches you again."

To the guards: "Throw him and those bastards in the estate's basement. They crawl out after Lucian's heir is official."

Dragged through the hospital like a carcass, I left a scarlet snail trail on marble.

Halfconscious, I rasped: "Helena... I only wanted... divorce. Not his child..."

"You killed our babies once... If you move them from ICU to that basement... they'll die again..."

"I'll sign anything... take nothing... just let them live... spare my father—"

Bloody tears plinked onto tile.

Helena rolled her eyes. "If you behave in that basement, I might—"

CRACK.

A sound like the sky splitting—

—and my father's body hit the pavement in front of me.

His eyes, once so kind, now bulged like burst grapes.

"DAD!!!"

I scrabbled forward on raw bone, screaming—

—only for guards to yank me back.

"Take him away," Helena muttered, avoiding the corpse. "He was dying anyway. This was... mercy."

"HELENA, YOU DEMON!!" I howled. "YOU KILLED YOUR OWN CHILDREN! MURDERED YOUR SAVIOR! MAY YOU ROT IN HELL—"