The wealthiest woman in New York’s elite circle was drugged—and ended up sleeping with a college student.

The moment Kimberly regained consciousness, she called me. Her voice was hoarse and panicked.

“Gavin, someone drugged me! I made a mistake. But I gave him money, and he won’t come after me.”

After eight years of love and marriage, I thought it was just a one-time accident.

Six months later, Kimberly went on a business trip. News of a massive earthquake flooded every channel.

By the time I rushed to the hospital, she was lying in the OB-GYN ward, her expression was complicated.

The doctor told me she was three months pregnant.

Angelo had dug through the rubble with his bare hands to save her, and his fingers were shredded to the bone.

Kimberly grabbed my hand, her voice trembling and submissive. “Three months ago, Angelo's family passed away. He came to me begging for help... I’d been drinking, and I didn't expect things to spiral like that.”

“Don’t worry. He’ll never interfere with your position.”

Just then, Angelo burst out of the hallway and dropped to his knees in front of me, crying. “Mr. Vasquez, please—just let the child live!”

Kimberly looked at me, her tone pleading. “Gavin, you’ve always been the reasonable one. The child is innocent...”

I stared at her—and suddenly, I smiled.

“Kimberly, you have two choices.”

“Divorce.”

“Or drive him away.”

“I won’t divorce you!” she cried, eyes red as she clutched my arm. “But I have to take responsibility for him.”

In the end, Kimberly gave birth to twins, and the entire White family was ecstatic.

I took off my wedding ring and dialed a number I had never called before.

“I accept your offer.”

On the other end of the line, someone let out a low chuckle.

“Mr. Vasquez, I look forward to working with you.”

——

I stood outside the hospital room, fingers unconsciously clenched.

Through the half-open door, I saw Uncle Lennon and Aunt Diana each holding a baby, their faces glowing with joy.

Even Kimberly—who was always composed in public—wore an expression I had never seen before. She gazed tenderly at the infant in her arms, her lips curved in a gentle, doting smile.

How ironic.

They looked like the perfect, happy family.

When Kimberly saw me at the door, her expression froze.

“Gavin... you came back...”

I didn’t respond.

Aunt Diana glanced over, and spoke coldly. “You finally remembered to come back? Six months on that mountain—was it quiet enough for you?”

“Good,” Uncle Lennon quickly stepped in to ease the tension, though his eyes never left the baby in his arms.

“You’re just in time for the full-month celebration. As her husband, you should at least show some goodwill.”

Aunt Diana’s tone softened slightly. “The babies still don’t have names. You and Kimberly should come up with something. Don’t worry—as long as you’re willing to live peacefully, you’ll always be her husband.”

I stared at them numbly and nodded. “Alright.”

After the two elders left, Kimberly’s phone rang. She gave me a quick glance before stepping out to answer it.

Only Angelo and I remained in the room.

He looked healthy and radiant, and every strand of hair was meticulously styled. The casual suit he wore was clearly expensive. Gone was any trace of the poor student from the past.

It seemed these past six months living with the White family had been very good to him.

“Mr. Vasquez,” he said cautiously, “if I’ve done anything wrong, feel free to hit me or scold me. Just please... don’t fight with President White anymore. You know better than anyone, she only has you in her heart. Even when you were gone, she had someone clean your room every day.”

“Angelo,” I looked at him coldly, “Stop pretending.”

“The money she gave you back then was enough for you to live several lifetimes in comfort. You could’ve disappeared. But you came back, begged her for help—and that’s how the child happened.”

“Don’t play innocent. You know exactly what you’re doing.”

His face turned pale, then flushed with shame. I had struck the truth—and it hit him hard.

Suddenly, Angelo shoved one of the babies into my arms.

The warm weight, carrying a faint scent of milk, made my entire body stiffen.

But in the next second, the child slipped from my arms and fell heavily to the floor, letting out a heart-wrenching cry.

The sharp sound of the baby’s wails pierced the air as Kimberly rushed in and shoved me aside.

I staggered back, watching as she scooped the baby into her arms, her expression was full of anguish.

She looked at me with a complex expression. It felt like she had spoken a thousand words without saying a single one.

Angelo stood off to the side, his voice choked with emotion. “President White, I just wanted Mr. Vasquez to hold the baby... How could I have known he would—”

Kimberly’s voice was cold as ice. “Gavin, I’m being discharged tomorrow. Since you can’t accept the child, you should move to the West Hill villa for now.”

Clenching my fist, I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted blood before finally letting go.

I hadn’t brought much with me when I went off to retreat in the mountains. It was even easier now—everything I owned fit into a single suitcase.

I sat alone in the echoing emptiness of the villa, from nightfall until dawn.

Maybe it was better this way. At least I didn’t have to watch them playing house, a picture-perfect family of four.

Suddenly, the memories surged like a tide.

Kimberly and I had grown up together. We were childhood sweethearts, and married for eight years. The kind of couple people envied.

That first time, she’d been drugged by a business rival and ended up sleeping with a college student. As soon as she came to her senses, she’d called me, voice trembling.

“Gavin, I was set up! I gave him hush money, and he won’t show up again!”

I believed her.

But it wasn’t long before that man—Angelo—showed up again. His parents had died, and he came begging the drunk Kimberly for help. That was the second time. The first could be chalked up to an accident, but what about the second time?

Later, Kimberly went on a business trip to the southern country, where she was caught in an earthquake. Angelo dug her out of the rubble with his bare hands to save her.

With her life saved by him—and a child growing in her womb—Kimberly couldn’t leave him any longer.

She knelt before me, sobbing uncontrollably—and at that moment, I laid out my conditions.

“Kimberly, either we get divorced.”

“Or you make him leave.”

“I won’t divorce you!” she cried, eyes red as she clung to me. “But I owe him something... I have to take responsibility.”

She didn’t want a divorce, and she refused to send Angelo away.

So I left and went to Beacon Mountain to seek peace.

When the children were born, her parents ordered me to return.

Now, alone in the dim silence of the villa, I finally typed out the message I should have sent long ago.

[Let’s get a divorce.]

Less than ten minutes later, the door burst open.

Kimberly rushed in, sweat still beading her forehead.

“Gavin! I don’t agree with a divorce!”

I sat quietly on the sofa, letting out a weary sigh. “Let it go, Kimberly. I’m tired.”

“I told you—he would never come between us!” she cried, voice shaking with desperation.

Just then, her phone rang.

Angelo’s voice came through the speaker, half-sobbing. “President White! The baby—he fell, and now he’s running a fever. The doctor says he might have to go to the ICU!”

Her expression changed in an instant.

She looked at me, then on her phone. And finally, after a long hesitation, she spoke in a strained voice.

“Gavin, I... I need to check on him.”

I watched her back as she fled the room—and I laughed.

So this was my marriage.

Even divorce had to wait in line behind another man and her child.

I smiled bitterly and said softly, “Go. The child needs you.”

She hurried away, the breeze from her movement brushing against my cheek—as if she had never truly been there at all.

I sat alone in the darkness. Silent tears slipped down my face.

I knew—maybe she would never marry Angelo. But she would always be called away over again.

And this kind of life—if we didn’t get divorced—how much longer could I endure it?

A lifetime?

A familiar sharp pain twisted in my stomach.

I unlocked my phone. On Angelo’s social feed, there were photos of Kimberly keeping vigil day and night by the incubator. Her face was pale, and haggard—an anxious expression I had never seen on her before.

Letting out a sigh, I asked my lawyer to draft the divorce agreement and went to the office to resign.

The HR manager looked at me in shock. “Mr. Vasquez, does President White know you’re resigning?”

“She doesn’t have time for this now,” I answered with a faint smile.

A flicker of pity gleamed in her eyes. I smiled wryly. I knew what she was thinking.

I returned to the West Hill villa. We had only stayed here a few times after getting married.

While packing, I found an old, yellowing slip of paper.

[Gavin, I don’t know when you’ll see this. Maybe by then we’ll already have a few kids. I love you so much. No matter what happens, promise me you’ll never leave me.]

A tear splashed onto the note. Suddenly, a violent pain seized my stomach. My vision went black, and I collapsed to the floor.

When I regained consciousness, my phone was ringing shrilly.

“Gavin Vasquez! What the hell do you want?!”

Kimberly’s voice roared through the speaker. She almost never used my full name like that.

“Angelo has been nothing but careful! I’ve told you over and over—he won’t affect your place in my life! Why did you send those vicious messages? Why would you curse my child?!”

I gave a bitter smile.

She didn’t even ask if it was really me. She just declared me guilty.

“Are you done?” I asked calmly.

She paused for a few seconds before continuing, “The baby’s full-month celebration is next Sunday. You have to be there. Stop acting like a child, okay?”

“...Okay.” I hung up the phone and stared out into the night.

—

On the day of the banquet, I wore a plain, subdued outfit and quietly arrived at the venue.

All eyes turned to me with pity. Meanwhile, at the center of the hall, Angelo stood tall in a sharp suit, looking every bit the man of the house.

Aunt Diana nudged me. “Go on, hold the baby.”

Kimberly passed one of the twins to me, whispering, “Gavin, I’m letting the text messages go. After today, I’ll send Angelo abroad. Both children will be registered under our names. Since we can’t have children, isn’t this the best solution?”

Her voice trembled with sincerity. My chest ached.

Back then, during the avalanche, I’d been crushed trying to save her—leaving me unable to have children. She had defied her parents for me, vowing never to have kids in this life.

But everything had changed now.

Suddenly, the baby in my arms started coughing violently, frothing at the mouth.

“What’s wrong with the baby?!” someone screamed.

Angelo rushed over, his voice shrill and panicked. “Mr. Vasquez! If you want to kill someone, kill me! Don’t hurt the child!”

Smack!

Uncle Lennon slapped me hard across the face. My vision blurred as I hit the ground. My cheek burned, and the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.

Kimberly instinctively reached out to help me.

Then the baby let out a gut-wrenching cry—and vomited a mouthful of blood.

The room erupted into chaos.

“President White!” Angelo cried as he forced his way between us, frantic.

“The baby is not breathing! Please—help our child!”

Kimberly’s hand trembled violently.

I watched as the tenderness in her eyes faded, replaced by something cold and distant.

And then, without a word, she let go of me and turned to scoop the blood-streaked child into her arms.

...

The hospital hallway was icy cold.

I stood there like a ghost, the divorce papers I had prepared slipping from my pocket and fluttering to the floor.

Aunt Diana, sharp-eyed and harsh, bent down, picked them up, and threw them back at me with a sneer.

Her well-maintained face twisted with disgust. “Tell me, how has the White family ever treated you badly, huh? Kimberly went against us for you! We endured it all! And now you try to harm her child?”

“If you’re so eager to get divorced, then do it! Just don’t drag this out. Don’t cling to what is over.”