After the two left, the crew members began to gossip in whispers.

"Mr. Walker really treats Vivian Hart well, even ignoring his original wife like it’s nothing."

"If it weren't for Ethan dumping 99,999,999 dollars on her, how could she, a stiff-faced actress, have made it this far?"

Vivian Hart, Hart...

99,999,999...

If it weren’t for them, I probably would still be in the dark.

What lucky number, what lasting love — it was all just Ethan's obsession with Vivian Hart!

And I, for him, had been pregnant 99 times. I was the joke.

My vision went dark as I lost too much blood, falling into unconsciousness.

When I woke up again, I had been brought to the hospital by a kind stranger.

The doctor looked at my report, hesitant to speak.

I calmly said, "Doctor, just tell me, I can take it."

The doctor sighed, his face heavy.

"To save your life, we had to remove your uterus."

"Ms. Quinn, you will never be able to get pregnant again."

I gently touched my flat stomach, feeling no strong emotions.

Aside from not being able to have children, my right leg had a compound fracture.

I didn't return home, instead staying in the hospital for a while.

During this time, Ethan never sent a single message.

Instead, I saw photos of him and Vivian Hart on the entertainment headlines.

The trending headline was eye-catching: "Married CEO Spends 3 Hours in a Car with Popular Actress, Allegedly Flirting."

Back at home, Ethan was sitting on the couch, flipping through documents.

Hearing me open the door, he didn’t even look up, saying, "I had the maid make you some chicken soup; it’s on the table."

I nodded and walked upstairs without a word.

Seeing my lack of reaction, he slammed the contract shut, frowning.

"Why aren’t you talking? Still thinking about this miscarriage?"

Ethan picked up the bowl, pretending to feed me.

I merely took the soup, with no intention of drinking it.

"You've had 99 miscarriages already, why are you so upset this time?"

Ethan's patience was exhausted. He never expected me, the always gentle and obedient wife, to reject him.

Our eyes met.

He seemed to sense something was off.

Ethan rarely spoke to comfort me, "Don’t be sad, we’ll have children."

He reached out to hug me, but I subtly avoided his touch.

Ethan didn’t know, we had no future, let alone children.

I turned to go upstairs, intending to pack my things.

Just as he was about to stop me, his phone rang with a special ringtone, unlike the usual system notification.

And after all these years of marriage, he had set my calls and messages to Do Not Disturb.

He looked at me, hesitating for a few seconds,

then immediately answered the call.

I vaguely heard a familiar female voice on the other end, it was Vivian Hart.

But I had no intention of asking. I just continued packing my things in silence.

Only to unexpectedly find a few lace nightgowns among his usual suits and shirts.

I quietly took the inconspicuous file that was hidden under his computer.

It was the divorce agreement I had long discussed with the lawyer, already signed by Ethan.

A few days ago, I asked Ethan’s secretary to sneak this agreement in with company files.

Years ago, I saved Vivian Hart from a powerful man at a company banquet.

There was no other reason, but before I married Ethan, I was a bartender, very familiar with the colors of drinks.

So, when I knew my purpose, even though I risked being found out,

the secretary still resolutely helped me.

Even though the lawyer repeatedly warned me that I might not get a penny if I divorced Ethan,

I remained firm, "I don’t care about that."

Before marrying Ethan, I was an ordinary person, worlds apart from the status of a CEO.

Even if I left him, with my skills, I could still live well.

Outside the mansion, I unexpectedly ran into Ethan tightly holding Vivian Hart.

Ethan’s cold gaze fixated on the luggage in my hands.

Vivian Hart trembled when she saw me.

She even knelt before me.

"Ms. Quinn, please spare me. I’m just a small actress, how can I handle being written about like this?"

Ethan quickly supported her, his tone full of pity, "You don’t have to do this, I’ll help you."

Then, his gentle gaze turned cold as he questioned me.

"Did you send those paparazzi to take pictures? Liora Quinn, how could you be so vicious? Are you trying to ruin Vivian?"

I was just an ordinary person, how could I have that much power to cover things up?

But I didn’t argue.

After all, in Ethan’s eyes, Vivian Hart’s words were the supreme truth.

Ethan’s anger grew when he saw I was leaving.

He reached out and angrily threw my luggage to the ground.

In the process, I fell awkwardly.

The wound on my leg began to bleed again.

Ethan froze, unsure of what to say.

He reached out to help me, but was interrupted by Vivian Hart’s light words.

"Ethan, I have a dinner tomorrow, can you help me pick out my clothes?"

Vivian Hart clung to him, gently tugging at his sleeve.

"Ms. Quinn, don’t take it too personally, I’m just used to it."

Vivian Hart’s smile was provocative, trying to provoke me.

I just silently picked up my scattered luggage, took a taxi, and returned to my own place.

I booked a flight for the next evening, planning to go abroad and get some peace.

Vivian Hart and Ethan’s scandal had already been suppressed.

And the film crew released the behind-the-scenes footage of my miscarriage accident, which became a new topic of gossip.

I made myself a few drinks.

For the first time in three years of marriage, I drank myself into a stupor.

At the dinner party,

Ethan absentmindedly drank the toasts from others.

Even though Vivian Hart, his "white moonlight," was smiling beside him, his mind was still filled with the image of me being thrown to the ground.

Vivian Hart keenly noticed his mood and signaled the waiter.

A bottle of wine quickly arrived.

The taste of the wine was familiar, the same one Ethan had drunk before.

The aftertaste had a faint hint of lemon peel, a scent I always added when bartending.

Ethan stared at the wine in a daze, while Vivian Hart’s gaze began to cloud over.

She began to subconsciously tug at her clothes.

Ethan became furious and abruptly stopped the dinner.

The mastermind was quickly brought forward, but he only shouted in protest.

Ethan roared, "Who drugged the wine?"

“Yes… yes…”

The man’s eyes darted, meeting Vivian Hart’s flushed face.

“It was Liora Quinn! She told me to drug Vivian Hart’s wine!”

The wine glass in Ethan Walker’s hand shattered in his grip.

He stormed out, driving straight to my apartment.

As soon as Ethan left, Vivian’s expression cleared, a smug glint of schadenfreude flashing in her eyes.

Ethan kicked open my front door, his eyes blazing red.

“How could you drug Vivian’s drink? You knew she was the star of tonight’s dinner!”

I replied calmly, “It wasn’t me.”

“Wasn’t you?”

Ethan laughed in anger. “There’s proof! The wine tastes exactly like the ones you make, and someone testified you gave the order…”

“In Mr. Walker’s eyes, I’m the one behind everything, aren’t I? Then why bother asking me at all?”

My flat tone was so different from my usual arguments that it caught Ethan off guard.

I bowed stiffly, my voice mechanical. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be an eyesore in front of you, making Vivian unhappy.”

Sorry I ever longed for your love, sorry I carried your children again and again, only to lose them each time.

Sorry I stood in the way of you and your so-called lucky goddess.

Sorry we were ever together.

Ethan froze, the rage boiling inside him extinguished the moment he saw the pallor of my face.

Were the aftereffects of the miscarriage really this severe? It had been days—why hadn’t I recovered?

“Liora, when do you have time? I’ll find a specialist to help you recover.”

Just then, a message from Vivian came through.

Her syrupy voice filled the quiet room:

“Ethan, I don’t feel well…”

He hastily muttered, “We’ll talk later. I need to check on Vivian,” and rushed out.

I watched his decisive back as he left, then silently picked up my suitcase from the corner.

I had already drafted a message in my phone, scheduled it to send later.

I tossed the phone on the table and headed for the airport.

Ethan, from this moment on, we’ll never meet again.

What I didn’t know was that while I boarded the plane, my phone back home buzzed relentlessly.

When the doctor told him the drug Vivian had consumed was minimal and harmless, Ethan finally breathed a sigh of relief. He excused himself to get some air.

Vivian clutched the bedsheets tightly but still forced out a sweet smile. “Okay.”

Ethan dialed his assistant. “Find me a top gynecologist, as soon as possible.”

The assistant sounded surprised. “For Ms. Hart…?”

Irritation flashed across Ethan’s face. He cut him off. “Not her.”

“It’s for Liora. She needs treatment so we can have another child.”

A doctor passing by overheard and stopped, shocked.

“You’re Ms. Quinn’s husband?”

Ethan hung up, nodding silently.

The doctor’s shock deepened. “You really don’t know? After her car accident, the miscarriage caused severe internal damage. To save her life, we had to remove her uterus. Ms. Quinn will never be able to conceive again.”

The words hit Ethan like a thunderbolt. He nearly collapsed.

“That’s impossible. She clearly—”

The doctor’s voice was calm but cold. “She didn’t come to the hospital right after the accident. If she had sought treatment immediately, we might have saved her uterus.”