Chapter 3

Charlotte's POV

Two months later.

3 AM at Saint Mary's Private Hospital VIP maternity ward in Manhattan's Upper East Side, everything was quiet.

I lay on the luxury hospital bed, pretending to sleep from exhaustion after intense labor pains. Victoria on the neighboring bed had just endured the same agony, her breathing heavy and rapid, clearly not fully recovered.

Two tiny lives lay quietly in transparent bassinets, soft night lights illuminating their delicate little faces. My daughter and Victoria's daughter looked so similar, so innocent.

"Both mothers' due dates were so close—what a coincidence!" the head nurse had marveled that afternoon.

A miracle? This was all planned by them to facilitate switching the children's identities.

Now the real show was about to begin.

I watched Victoria through barely opened eyes. She endured post-delivery weakness, carefully sitting up in bed, staring intently at the two bassinets.

Here we go.

She was about to start her damned baby-switching scheme.

Victoria padded barefoot toward the bassinets, each step difficult but driven by the greed and calculation in her eyes.

Last time, this was when she switched our children's identities, letting me unknowingly love her daughter as my own while my real daughter received inferior treatment. This way, her daughter could enjoy everything a true heir deserved.

She first examined the pink identity bands on both children's wrists, then began carefully removing the tag from my daughter's wrist.

"Sorry, little one," she whispered to my daughter. "But my child needs a better life."

My fists clenched tightly under the blankets.

Victoria carefully removed both identity bands and switched their positions.

"Done..." she murmured with satisfaction, admiring her "masterpiece."

Then she stumbled back to bed, quickly falling into exhausted sleep.

I waited a full thirty minutes, ensuring she was completely asleep, before quietly getting up.

Now it was my turn.

I endured the post-delivery pain, step by step approaching the bassinets. Looking at the two innocent little lives, complex emotions surged through my heart.

"Sorry, little ones," I whispered. "But this time, Mommy's going to protect who she should really protect."

I switched the identity bands back, returning each child to their rightful position.

At dawn, a nurse pushed through the door for rounds.

"Good morning, Mrs. Charlotte!" she said cheerfully. "The babies are sleeping so peacefully."

I pretended to just wake up: "Nurse, are they both okay?"

"Very healthy! Both little angels are perfect." The nurse checked the information on the identity bands. "Your two beautiful daughters."

Victoria's eyes flashed with triumph. She thought her plan was flawless.

Stupid woman.

"Charlotte, thank you for keeping this secret," Victoria said meaningfully. "I'm sure you'll be a perfect mother."

"Don't worry, Charlotte," my smile became even brighter. "I'll take good care of these two children."

Yes, I would be a perfect mother. But only to my biological daughter.

"You can be discharged today, Mrs. Charlotte," the nurse said. "Both little princesses can go home."

"Wonderful," I replied gently.

David soon arrived at the hospital with a large bouquet of red roses and two exquisite baby carriers.

"How are my girls?" He kissed my forehead enthusiastically, then walked to the bassinets. "Oh God, they're beautiful! This one's our daughter, right?" He pointed to my real daughter.

"Yes, she's the older sister," I said with a smile, genuine maternal love surging in my heart.

Victoria smiled weakly from the side, completely immersed in her "successful" joy.

But she didn't know everything had already returned to its proper course.

"Let's go home," David said. "I've prepared the most luxurious nursery for our little princesses."

"That's perfect," I picked up my real daughter, feeling the warmth of our blood connection.

Victoria also picked up her daughter—the one she thought was my biological child.

We were ready to go home. This time, fate's trajectory had completely changed.

Her daughter would experience a drastically different life, while my daughter would receive everything she deserved.