Ex-Husband’s Regret: Barren Mommy Has Quadruplets

Bella caught Jace off guard. In an instant, she had already torn open his collar, exposing his defined shoulder.

She was searching for a birthmark the size of a coin on his left shoulder. Hugh had a birthmark there; it was a faint pink mark that she remembered vividly.

The hope Bella had allowed herself to feel was quickly extinguished.

Instead of a birthmark, she was met with a long and vicious scar, two fingers wide, that snaked down his left shoulder.

The scar stood out starkly against his fair skin. It was gruesome.

As a former doctor for Doctors Without Borders, Bella had seen her fair share of injuries on the battlefield. Yet the severity of this scar sent a shiver down her spine. This was not an ordinary knife wound.

It looked like the aftermath of an explosion, a wound so severe it was as if he had been torn apart and stitched back together, skin and muscle pieced back like a grotesque puzzle. Could it be possible that... "Ugh-!"

Suddenly, she found herself pinned down on the couch by Jace before she could process what was happening. His powerful grip locked her wrists in place, rendering her immobile.

"Do you have a death wish?" Jace hovered over her, his jaw clenched tight and his eyes blazing with fury.

What happened to you?" Bella felt no fear, only a bone-deep sorrow that coursed through her body. "Why do

hurt?' Her gentle question pierced Jace's mind like a bullet, causing a wave of pain

the deepest recesses of

tears

hand to touch his face, but Jace abruptly released her and

that again, not even Christopher

left her with a cold warning before

to his room,

door tightly behind him. He leaned heavily against the door closed his

boss gave me a new life. My boss gave..." He muttered to himself like a chant, as if reciting a spell to drive away the doubt that threatened to

pierced through his defenses and gently knocked on the ironclad door of his

years, he had endured countless injuries; no one had ever asked him if it

needed anyone's