Chapter 3

Since marrying Charles, I'd pretty much dedicated myself to his company—doing everything I could to help his business thrive.

The employees had always called me "Mrs. Keaton."

I never realized they'd talk about me like that behind my back.

But now, I didn't have the strength to fight those ugly rumors.

Honestly, when I first met Charles, he was already done with Melissa.

And Charles was the one who asked me to marry him.

But why did I end up being such a disgraceful villain in everyone's stories?

At least the pain and humiliation helped me keep awake.

I knew if I let myself lose consciousness now, I'd probably bleed out for real.

And if that happened, there'd be no way I could clear my name.

Fueled by sheer survival instinct, I forced my frail body into the stairwell.

I managed to crawl down one floor, screaming in the stairwell, "Help! Is anyone here? Please help me."

At last, my desperate cries reached two cleaning ladies.

And luckily, they were not under Charles's control.

They froze when they saw the long trail of blood behind me.

"Are you alright?" one of them asked.

"I think I'm having a miscarriage. Could you please call an ambulance?" I said, struggling to stay conscious.

A cleaning lady immediately pulled out her phone and quickly dialed for emergency services.

The other one knelt beside me. "Don't worry, Miss. The ambulance will be here soon."

They stayed with me, offering constant encouragement, telling me over and over not to pass out.

Hope flickered inside me, and I believed I might survive this time.

Suddenly, Charles's voice rang out in the stairwell, cold and sharp.

"Emily, look at the mess you've made with your fake blood packs—are you ever going to stop pretending?" he barked.

I turned over and froze—Charles had brought Melissa with him.

He was holding her hand so tightly. And when he looked at her, his face lit up with a smile—a smile that said he'd just found something precious he thought he'd lost forever.

Ryan was behind them, his expression dripping with contempt for me.

"Too bad you never made it as an actress, Emily. Or you'd be famous now," he spat.

I couldn't believe it—to them, my pale face and the agony written all over me were just a show.

But now, I didn't have the strength to fight back.

I had to save my strength until the ambulance arrived.

Just then, the thought that Charles could shut down the elevators again, stopping the paramedics from getting to me, sent chills down my spine.

Swallowing every last bit of pride and shame, I crawled over to his feet.

I said, my voice barely hanging on, "I'm not acting, Charles. I'm really about to lose my baby.

"This blood is real. It's coming straight from me. If you don't believe me, just look..."

Shame and desperation were eating away at me; I nearly tore open my clothes right there to prove I wasn't lying.

But Charles just looked through me—so numb and heartless, it left me feeling utterly hopeless.

He said, "Emily, after all these years, I know exactly what kind of person you are.

"You're always pulling these stunts, pretending to be sick to get my attention. Good thing I didn't buy it this time."

He wrapped his arm around Melissa, his eyes softening with tenderness.

"Otherwise," he added. "Melissa would've suffered even more because of your pathetic games."

His words made it painfully clear—there was no reason left to expect anything from this man.

Anger and heartbreak tightened in my chest.

The cramps in my belly grew worse, like a hand was churning up my insides.

I couldn't hold back a howl of pain as my body started convulsing, right at the edge of collapse.

Charles was already about to leave with Melissa.

Hearing my desperate scream, he glanced back, about to come over and check on me.

Melissa quickly buried herself in his arms, whispering, "Charles, I'm scared. I don't want to stay here anymore."

She looked so fragile, so in need of comfort.

Charles's tone softened right away. "Alright, let's go. We don't need to waste our time watching this woman's performance."

With that, he turned back around, ready to leave with Melissa.

Ryan frowned, stepping forward and giving me a closer look.

My eyes rolled back, and my body convulsed nonstop—I looked like I could pass out any second.

Ryan hesitated for a moment, then called out, "Charles, maybe we should get her to a hospital. She looks like she's on death's door."

Just then, the paramedics, guided by the cleaning ladies, showed up with a stretcher.

The moment they saw blood everywhere and me laid out, barely clinging to life, their faces went pale with shock.

"She needs a blood transfusion now. She's fading fast—we're running out of time," one of the paramedics yelled, panic lacing every word.