Chapter 1

As I stepped out of the doctor's office at the Maternity Support Center, I saw my husband, Edward Bennett, supporting a woman as they walked down the hallway.

Her face was ghostly pale. Her fingers were clutching his sleeve. With every step, she leaned into him for support.

The nurse followed my gaze and spoke in a low voice, "Ms. Rivers, that's Ms. Olivia Grant. She had a D&C, and Mr. Bennett was with her."

I folded the pregnancy risk notice in my hand and stuffed it into my bag.

I married Edward not because I loved him.

My family had an old rule. Whoever took charge had to have a child to carry the family name. With a spotless background, Edward was smart and handsome. Most importantly, he was a man who honored his contracts.

He was the ideal partner to have a child with.

So, I didn't make a scene or slap anyone right there in the hospital hallway.

I walked up to the nurse's station and said calmly, "Please print out my assessment schedule, medication restrictions, and risk disclosures for the next four months."

The young nurse glanced at me, then looked down the hallway, her fingers tapping away at the keyboard at lightning speed.

Edward heard the footsteps and turned around, his expression shifting slightly.

"Charlotte, what are you doing here?" he asked in shock.

I looked at him and asked back, "This is my hospital. I'm here for my prenatal checkup. Is that so strange?"

Olivia turned around as well, her lips almost colorless, but her smile never wavered.

"You must be Mrs. Bennett. Small world, huh? Edward was being nice since I had no one else with me. Don't take it the wrong way," she explained.

As she spoke, she still had her hand on Edward's arm.

Edward gave a slight tug, but her hand stayed firmly on his arm.

I ignored her completely and spoke straight to him. "Did you catch everything about her aftercare?"

He frowned. "She's not doing well. I checked with the doctor. That's all."

"Wonderful." I nodded, my tone icy. "You do take a special interest in women's recovery, don't you?"

The nurse handed me a hefty stack of papers.

I took it, brushed right past them, and headed for the lounge.

That lounge had my name on the door. Normally, only I could get in.

But today, the door was wide open. Olivia's coat was draped over my sofa. Her thermos was sitting on my little table, and an art exhibition invitation was tucked under the lid.

She followed me in and sat down like she owned the place. "Mrs. Bennett, you don't mind if I rest here for a bit, right? Edward and I have known each other for ages.

"When he opened his first herbal kitchen, I was the one who rallied all my friends to come support him," she said softly, looking at me.

"You're expecting. Maybe you should stay out of business matters. A man's business partners are different from his wife."

The young nurse at the door was red with anger.

I set the stack of papers on the desk and straightened them out, page by page.

"Ms. Grant," I said.

"Yes?" she answered with a smile.

"Edward's first herbal kitchen opened in a space my maternal grandmother provided. My family's supply permits, recipes, and connections helped him survive the losses and finally expand. Just because you brought a couple of friends over for soup doesn't make you a partner," I said.

Olivia's smile froze for a second.

"Charlotte, she just had surgery," Edward said in a low voice.

I looked up at him. "So what? Because she had surgery, I'm supposed to let her take over my lounge, my husband, and everything my family built?"

His brow furrowed deeper. "Hey, don't talk like that. Olivia didn't mean it."

"It doesn't matter if she's got bad intentions," I said, grabbing my bag. "As long as you know where to draw the line."

When I stepped out of the lounge, the driver was already waiting at the door.

That night, Edward didn't get home until 10:30.

By then, I'd showered, had my prenatal dinner, and started checking last month's purchase orders from the original Rivers Herbal Kitchen.

When the door opened, the housekeeper hurried over to take his coat.

He smelled of disinfectant, with a faint trace of gardenia.

I pushed a stack of papers in front of him. "Sit down and read it out."

He froze. "What?"

"Thirty-six pages," I said, tapping the first page. "Starting with precautions for week 16 of pregnancy, covering the risks, dos and don'ts, checkup schedule, and emergency procedures. Don't go upstairs until you've read every word."

Edward stared at the stack of papers like he'd been handed some absurd contract.

"The doctors will tell you everything anyway. Why do I have to read all this?" he asked.

"You were so patient when you asked Olivia about her aftercare," I said, leaning back on the sofa. "But when it comes to your own child, you can't be bothered to listen?"

He swallowed hard. "Told you, she was all alone."

"And what about me?" I shot back.

The living room fell silent. The housekeeper quietly slipped out.

Edward picked up the papers and started reading them out slowly. When he reached the section about pregnant women needing to get medical help immediately if they bleed at night, he paused.

I prompted him. "Keep going."'

He looked up at me.

I kept my expression calm. "Don't stop now, Mr. Bennett. You're so attentive to other women's health. Don't tell me you're gonna slack off when it comes to your lawful wife and kid."

He finally lowered his head and kept reading it out.

By the time he finished, it was already 1 a.m. His voice was raspy, and I was sprawled on the sofa with my eyes shut. I wasn't asleep.

Grandma used to say, "When choosing someone to work with, you have to see whether they'll lose their grip over the tiniest bit of temptation."

Edward barely crossed the line today. He probably thought it didn't count as a mistake.