The air in the sterile hospital room hung heavy with the scent of antiseptic and a faint, hopeful joy. Luna Gibson clutched the test report, her heart swelling with a secret that pulsed with life. Tomorrow, Joshua would be home. Tomorrow, she would tell him.

But the moment her key turned in the lock of their familiar villa, a pair of elegant ladies' shoes, undeniably Aura's, stood by the entrance. A chill snaked down Luna's spine, dispelling the warmth of anticipation. Aura, who was supposed to be on a business trip with Joshua.

Then, from upstairs, a woman's voice, Aura's unmistakable purr, mingled with a man's deeper tone. Luna's blood ran cold. Her hand trembled, hovering over the bedroom doorknob. What good would opening it do? The truth, a bitter pill she already knew, was that Joshua didn't love her. Their two years of marriage, her desperate attempts to conceive, culminated in this: her husband, with her half-sister, in their bed, while she carried his child.

Tears, hot and silent, streamed down her face as she stumbled out into the pouring rain, the voices echoing in her mind. No wonder Joshua had insisted on Aura as his assistant. They had been together all along. The downpour matched the tempest in her heart, washing away her hope, leaving only a chilling despair. She walked, aimless, into the storm.