Chapter 1

Note: The inner thoughts of people other than the protagonist are expressed in ' ' marks.

The second Carson Goodman went bankrupt, the very first thing he did was kick me out for good.

"From here on out, we go our separate ways," Carson said casually, swinging the front door wide open like he couldn't wait to get rid of me.

I grabbed my rolling suitcase and headed for the door without so much as a backward glance.

The moment my fingers brushed the doorknob, a tiny childlike voice suddenly rang out inside my head, coming straight from my womb.

Mommy, don't leave! If you walk out that door, Daddy's gonna swallow those pills and end his life.'

I froze on the spot, then slowly turned back around.

Carson was slouched listlessly on the sofa, one hand clutching a pill bottle tightly, his gaze fixed blankly on the floor, utterly devoid of the will to live.

I walked back inside, set my suitcase aside, and looked at him with a calm, unreadable gaze.

"I'm pregnant with your child," I said flatly. "Do you want to keep this baby?"

*****

The second Carson pushed open the door, he told me he'd gone bankrupt.

Golden afternoon sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, gilding the sharp contours of his frame.

Yet he looked as though he were drowning in the dark abyss of despair, weighed down by bone-deep exhaustion that threatened to consume him entirely.

"So this is the end for us," he said in a toneless voice.

He spoke so nonchalantly, like he was merely commenting on the weather.

I'd been lazing on the sofa flipping through a high-end fashion magazine. At his words, I stiffened for a split second.

Then I closed the magazine and set it neatly down on the marble coffee table.

"I understand," I replied.

My tone was steady, devoid of any emotion whatsoever.

Over the past three years, I'd long grown used to this unspoken dynamic between us.

He showered me with luxury, and I took whatever he gave.

When the money dried up, I'd walk away without a single argument.

What we had was never love—it was nothing more than a quiet, mutually beneficial deal.

Now that the foundation of our agreement had crumbled, splitting up was only inevitable.

I rose to my feet and headed upstairs to the bedroom on the second floor.

I never had many belongings in the walk-in closet to begin with—just a handful of seasonal designer outfits, a few luxury bags he'd gifted me on a whim, and some assorted fine jewelry.

I left all the pricey jewelry untouched.

I simply grabbed a suitcase and packed only my daily necessities, the exact same few items I'd brought with me the day I first moved in with him.

I rolled my suitcase back downstairs.

He remained rooted to the spot in the entryway, motionless.

Sunlight fell across his face, highlighting his deep-set eyes and chiseled nose, yet laying bare the hollow defeat lingering in his gaze.

Once, he'd been the most dazzling elite tycoon in the entire city—arrogant, untouchable, convinced nothing could ever bring him down.

Now his glory days had come crashing down without mercy.

I made no attempt to comfort him.

Sympathy was never part of our deal.

I walked straight past him with my suitcase, not even sparing him a glance.

No gentle farewell, no lingering words.

Our deal was over, and there was nothing left to say.

I reached out and wrapped my fingers around the cold metal doorknob, ready to walk out of this gilded mansion that had confined my youth for three long years.

Just as I was about to twist the doorknob and step outside—a small, tearful voice suddenly echoed clearly inside my mind.

'Mommy, don't go.'

I froze, rooted firmly to the ground.

The house was empty, with only Carson and me inside. Who on earth could that voice belong to?

The voice came again, thick with raw anxiety and fear.

'Mommy, don't leave! If you go, Daddy's gonna chug that whole bottle of bitter sleeping pills.

'He'll drift away and never wake up again.'

I spun around sharply.

Carson had already sunk down onto the sofa.

In his hand was a small white prescription bottle—the very sleeping pills he'd relied on for years.

But the pills in that bottle were more than enough to end everything for good.

He stared blankly at the floor, his eyes empty and hollow, like a puppet stripped of its soul.

That pill bottle in his hand was his escape, his final way out of his shattered life.

An invisible weight clamped around my chest.

For three years, I'd lied to myself that I felt nothing for this man—no affection, no attachment, no care.

But at this moment of despair, a sharp, stinging pain bloomed deep in my heart.

I realized the voice was coming from my womb.

On impulse, I rested my palm gently over my still-flat stomach.

There was a tiny life growing inside me, quiet and fragile—Carson's child.

I hadn't plucked up the courage to tell him yet.

I'd planned to leave quietly after our split and bury this secret deep down, keeping it all to myself forever.

'Daddy's heart is broken. He thinks he's lost everything he has,' the little voice echoed softly in my head.

'Mommy, don't leave him.'

That innocent, childlike tone reverberated in my mind, every word striking straight to my heart.

I stared at the broken man slouched on the couch, teetering precariously on the brink of self-destruction.

He wasn't the man I'd fallen for, but he was the father of the little life growing inside me.

I took a slow, deep breath and loosened my grip on the doorknob.

The suitcase wheels rolled softly across the polished hardwood floor as I walked back toward him step by step.

Shadows engulfed his entire figure.

He slowly lifted his head, and for the first time since his downfall, a flicker of stunned disbelief flashed in his empty eyes.

I set my suitcase down beside me and met his gaze with calm poise.

My voice rang out clear and steady.

"I'm carrying your baby. Do you want to keep this child?"