Chapter 3

Victor's eyes suddenly widened in shock.

Emily went as white as a sheet.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Victor's voice was tight, a telltale thread of tension running through it.

"Playing dumb?" I shoved my phone in his face and showed him the pictures of some paper.

The night before, I'd finally managed to pick the lock on his study drawer and took the pictures. Inside, I didn't find important documents, just several bottles of pills with foreign labels, and a private doctor's diagnosis for Emily.

It stated she had premature ovarian failure, with almost no chance of conceiving naturally. The report was dated six months before our wedding.

Beneath it were copies of my own medical reports from the last three years. The hormone levels were all wrong, each anomaly circled in angry red marker. A handwritten note in the margin read: "Indicative of long-term use of contraceptives and hormone suppressants."

At the time, I thought it had to be some kind of horrible mistake.

But then, lying helpless in that operating room, I overheard their devastating conversation outside. And all the pieces clicked into place, forming a blade that stabbed right through me.

"Was this your grand plan all along, Victor?" I held the phone steady, its cold light glinting in my swollen eyes. "Marry me and keep me as your perfect little trophy wife, all while secretly feeding me drugs to keep me sterile?

"And all the while, you and Emily were trying for a baby. Now that she's finally pregnant, I'm just a 'problem' you need to get rid of. Is that it?"

Victor's face darkened with a storm of fury and humiliation, as if I'd stripped him bare in the middle of a crowded street. He stared at the phone screen, his jaw clenched so tight I could see a muscle twitching.

Emily looked like she was about to crumble, clinging to Victor's arm for support. "Victor, she went through your private things. A-And these accusations..."

"Accusations?" I cut in coldly, my eyes dropping to her rounded stomach with pure revulsion. "Would you prefer I go to the lab right now and have them run a toxicology report on my blood?

"Or better yet, since we're airing out all the dirty laundry, why don't we get a paternity test for that baby? Let's see if it's really Victor's after all."

"Enough!" Victor roared, his hand snapping out to grip my wrist with bone-crushing force. The rage in his eyes was raw and exposed. "Give me the phone, Helen. You're coming with me. Do you have no shame?"

"You're the ones who have no shame. I struggled against his iron grip, but it was useless. All around us, the hushed whispers of patients and staff grew louder, their stares fixed on our humiliating public spectacle.

"Security! Where's security?" Emily shouted, her voice breaking into sobs. "Get her out of here. She's hurting my baby."

Two uniformed security guards rushed over.

Victor's grip on my wrist remained like a vice. He addressed them with an air of effortless authority. "My wife is emotionally compromised and likely having a psychiatric episode. Please escort her from the hospital. I'll be contacting her physician."

He layered the words "please" and "psychiatric episode" with a weight that made his meaning perfectly clear.

The guards looked at him, then at me—wild-eyed, tear-stained, clearly on the edge. After a moment's hesitation, they moved in and took hold of my arms.

"Get your hands off me. Victor, you bastard! I hope you all rot in hell." I fought like an animal caught in a trap, every thrash fueled by pure, undiluted despair.

That was when the cramping in my abdomen intensified, and a warm, unsettling wetness began to trickle down my leg.

"Oh, my god, she's bleeding," a nurse cried out, her horrified gaze fixed on my hospital pants.

Vivid scarlet spread fast over the pale blue fabric, the sight so shocking it made everyone in the room gasp.

Victor's grip finally went slack. For a single, fleeting moment, as he stared at the blood soaking through the material, something unfamiliar flickered in his eyes—shock, perhaps, or even a shred of remorse.

But it was gone in an instant, replaced by the familiar, impenetrable ice.

Emily seized the opportunity, clinging to his arm as if her life depended on it, burying her tear-stained face in his chest. "Victor, I'm so scared," she whimpered, her voice fractured by sobs. "What if something happens to our baby?"

His attention snapped to her, his entire demeanor shifting into that of a protector. "Shhh, it's alright, Emily. I'm right here. I won't let anything happen to our child." He enveloped her in his arms, shielding his precious treasure, his back turned squarely to me.

His final order to the guards was cold and efficient. "Handle this. See that my wife's examination proceeds without any further disruptions."

Without a single backward glance, he guided Emily into the ultrasound room, shutting out the rest of the world.