The bodyguards dragged me outside, and I stumbled hard into a marble pillar. The impact sent tremors of pain through my whole body.

Bartholomew carried Vivien past me, his eyes churning with rage. He didn't so much as glance at the blisters already rising on my arm. He gave me one cold scoff, then turned and took her to get bandaged.

“Let her learn her lesson. She doesn't set foot inside until I'm back.”

Vivien looked at me from the cradle of his arms, triumph written all over her face.

The bodyguards had their orders. Every door was locked within seconds.

I fought with everything I had, but it was useless.

The midday sun was brutal. An hour passed. Sweat drenched my hair and ran into my eyes, and the burn on my arm had gone past pain into numbness.

My legs buckled with every step. I kept telling myself to hold on, just hold on.

I don't know how long it had been when the world went black and I hit the ground.

When I opened my eyes again, the smell of antiseptic filled my nose.

The nurse standing by my bed saw me stir. Her brow creased.

“Ms. Simmons, you really need to take better care of yourself. You're pregnant, and on top of that you've got heatstroke and a burn injury!”

My mind went blank.

I pressed my hand to my stomach, disbelief flooding through me. Pregnant.

Tears fell without warning, landing on the back of my hand, scalding hot. I flinched.

This baby. The worst possible timing.

I squeezed my eyes shut and dug my nails into my palms, using the pain to force myself to think clearly.

After a long time, I opened my eyes. Whatever had been alive in them before was gone. I spoke to the nurse, my voice raw.

“Schedule a procedure for me. Five days from now. I want a termination.”

The nurse froze.

“The baby is perfectly healthy. Are you sure you don't want to keep it?”

I nodded. “I'm sure.”

She didn't say another word. She turned and went to process the paperwork.

I lay on the hospital bed, perfectly still. My fingertips rested against my stomach. I mouthed the words I'm sorry without making a sound.

Bartholomew heard I'd been hospitalized. He assumed it was just heatstroke. He was waiting for my apology, and when none came, he didn't bother visiting. Not once.

Outside my door, the nurses kept their voices low, but every word carried through to me, sharp and clear.

“That Ms. Pruitt in the VIP suite, the one Mr. Vance adores? Ever since she got pregnant, he's been spoiling her rotten. He's at the hospital every single day, stocking her room with high-end supplements, holding her arm when she walks like she might shatter if she trips.”

“Everyone knows. Every socialite in the city envies her. Mr. Vance used to dote on Ms. Simmons like that, remember? And look what happened. Dropped her just like that. Now she's lying in a standard room, nobody checking on her, and he hasn't even come by once. How things change.”

“Ms. Pruitt is the one he really loves. Ms. Simmons? Old news. The title of Mrs. Vance is just an empty name at this point.”

A bitter laugh scraped out of my throat. My eyes burned red, and tears slid down in silence.

Five years. From teenage sweethearts to marriage vows, from a wedding that cost millions to promises of forever. None of it held up against a few of Vivien's tears, against the so-called Vance heir in her belly.

I curled into myself on the hospital bed, biting down on my lip so hard it split, tasting copper, refusing to let a single sound escape.

Two days later, I went home. The moment I stepped through the door, Vivien walked out of the bedroom. She looked down at me from across the room,

a vicious smile curling at the corner of her lips, her eyes full of mockery and contempt.

“Kay, your life must be pretty miserable right now, huh? Abandoned by your own husband, betrayed by your best friend, stuck in that dingy hospital room without a single person to take care of you. Watching Bartholomew dote on me hand and foot. You must hate it so much you could scream.”

I stared at her coldly, unwilling to waste a single word on her. She was ugly to me now. Repulsive.

When I didn't respond, her smile only widened. She leaned down slowly, bringing her mouth close to my ear.

“Did you really believe, all those years ago, that I was actually sick? That I needed a kidney transplant?”

She let out a soft laugh, her voice dripping with amusement.

“Kay, you're hopeless. Truly, pathetically hopeless. I was never sick. The kidney transplant was a lie I made up to trick you.”

My eyes went wide. Every drop of blood in my body turned to ice. I stared at her, unable to process what I was hearing.

“What did you just say?”

Vivien straightened up, arms crossed, her expression brazen.

“I just couldn't stand you. Ever since we were kids, you were always the golden girl. The money, the looks, everyone orbiting around you. Even Bartholomew married you in the end. I hated it. That smug, charitable little act of yours, like you were doing the world a favor by existing. So I faked being sick. I tricked you into giving me your kidney. Watching you lie on that operating table, risking your life for me without a second thought? That felt good.”

“You knew. You knew how much damage donating a kidney would do to my body. You knew I was risking my life to save you……”

My voice shook. My whole body shook. Back then, I'd gone against my family's wishes, insisted on donating my kidney to her, and spent the better part of a year recovering from the surgery.

I had treated her like a sister. Given her everything I had. And all of it had been repaid with a carefully orchestrated lie.

“So what?”

Vivien scoffed, her eyes turning vicious. “Why should you get to have everything? Why should Bartholomew love you? I wanted to destroy your life, steal your man, drag you down from your pedestal and grind you into the dirt. I wanted you to feel every ounce of what I felt. That car accident, the miscarriage? I deliberately didn't give blood. I wanted you to die. Too bad you're hard to kill. But it worked out anyway. You can't have children now, and that gave me my opening. Bartholomew only loves me and the baby in my belly. You're nothing.”

“You're insane!” I was shaking with rage. “Vivien, aren't you afraid I'll tell Bartholomew every single thing you just said?”

“Tell Bartholomew?” Vivien threw her head back and laughed like she'd just heard the funniest joke of her life. “Kay, do you honestly think he'd believe you? I'm the only one he sees now. He believes every word out of my mouth. You could scream the truth until your throat bled, and he'd just think you were jealous. That you were making a scene. Have you forgotten? He stopped believing you a long time ago.”

I lost all control. I put everything I had into the palm of my hand and slapped her across the face.

“Vivien, you're nothing but a homewrecker!”

I screamed it with bloodshot eyes, my chest heaving violently. The weakness from the pregnancy sent dark spots flooding across my vision.

The slap snapped Vivien's head to the side. She clutched her cheek, a flash of something cold and dangerous in her eyes. She was about to lunge at me, but then she heard footsteps and switched instantly to a wounded, pitiful expression, tears spilling on command.

Bartholomew had heard the commotion and come running from the study.

He pushed open the door and saw Vivien crumpled on the floor, hand pressed to her face.

“Bartholomew, Kay hit me, she called me a homewrecker, she said she'd hurt our baby……”

He rushed in, panic written across his face, and gathered Vivien into his arms.

The second he saw the handprint on her cheek, his expression turned to stone.

“Kay, you hit her?”

He strode toward me and shoved me hard.

I was already weak, already pregnant. I had no strength to resist. I hit the floor.

The baby seemed to sense my fury. Pain tore through my abdomen without warning, so sharp that cold sweat broke across my skin.

Bartholomew didn't even glance at me on the ground. Every fiber of his attention was on Vivien in his arms, his hands moving gently over her, checking for injuries.

“Vivien, does anything hurt? Is the baby okay?”

Vivien nestled against his chest, crying prettily, and pointed a trembling finger at me.

“Bartholomew, I just wanted to welcome her home and apologize. But she hit me the second she saw me, and she said she'd make sure our baby dies a horrible death.”

Bartholomew turned to look at me. The fury in his eyes was consuming.

“Kay, how can you be this cruel? Vivien is pregnant. She came to see you out of kindness, and you hit her? You cursed my child?”

He crouched down, seized my chin, and forced my face up to meet his. Every word came out glacial.

“Apologize to Vivien. Right now. Or I will make this city unlivable for you.”

I gritted my teeth against the searing pain in my lower abdomen and lifted my head to look at this man I no longer recognized. A hollow laugh escaped me.

Apologize for what? For every humiliation I'd endured? For my dead child? For the trust I'd given that was thrown back in my face?

I looked at him with empty eyes, my voice raw. “I did nothing wrong. I will never apologize.”

Bartholomew's face twisted. The rage in his eyes flared hotter. He opened his mouth to speak, but the agony in my abdomen surged again, my vision went black, and I was gone.

The doctor said the fainting was caused by the shock to my pregnancy combined with my weakened state. He stressed repeatedly that I needed complete rest for the remainder of my term and that I absolutely could not endure any more stress.

I nodded in silence. When the IV was finished, I prepared to leave the hospital.

The moment I stepped through the front doors, the Vance family driver was already standing at attention beside the car.

“Ms. Simmons, Old Mr. Vance asked me to take you directly to the family estate. Tonight is the annual Vance family banquet.”

I was ushered into the car, and it drove straight to the Vance estate.

When I pushed the door open and stepped inside, the living room was full of Vance elders and relatives. The laughter and chatter died the instant I crossed the threshold.

Every pair of eyes turned on me at once, some dripping with contempt, others ice-cold, others openly mocking.

“Well, well, if it isn't Mrs. Vance herself. I was starting to think you wouldn't show.”

The relative's voice was razor-sharp, her gaze undisguised disgust.

“Five years of marriage and not a single child to show for it. What's the point of keeping the title of Mrs. Vance?”

“Exactly. The Vance line has been single-heir for generations. We can't let it die out. Marrying a woman who can't bear children is a joke.”

The barbs came one after another, each one a needle driven straight into the rawest part of me.

I clenched my fists, nails biting deep into my palms, and forced my spine straight. I was about to fire back.

Before a single word left my mouth, Bartholomew walked in. Tall, immaculate in a tailored suit, his arm wrapped tight around Vivien as they crossed the room together.

The moment the two of them appeared, the entire room fell silent. Every gaze locked onto them.

Bartholomew swept his eyes across the room. When they passed over me, they didn't linger for even a fraction of a second. Instead, he took Vivien's hand and walked to Old Mr. Vance.

“Grandfather, everyone, I have an announcement. Vivien is carrying a Vance heir. She's two months along.”

The room erupted, then flooded with congratulations.

“Wonderful! Bartholomew, the Vance family finally has an heir!”

“Ms. Pruitt is truly blessed. You can just tell she's the lucky type. I'm sure it'll be a healthy baby boy.”

Their eyes slid toward me, brimming with disdain.

“See? The one who can give the Vance family a child is the one who matters. You should do yourself a favor and step aside.”

I clenched my teeth until my jaw ached. The pain in my chest had long since gone numb.

Then Bartholomew led Vivien to the hostess's chair and gently helped her sit down.

“Vivien, you're pregnant. Sit here where it's comfortable. Don't tire yourself out.”

Vivien put on a show of bashful reluctance：“Bartholomew, that's Kay's seat. I couldn't possibly……”

“Why not?”

Bartholomew cut her off, his gaze sweeping over me, cold and dismissive.

“It's just a chair. There's no yours or hers.”

A bitter laugh escaped me. The hostess's seat of the Vance family, and all it took was one careless sentence for him to hand it to Vivien.

I turned and walked toward the door, spine rigid, refusing to let a single tear fall in front of any of them.

I had barely made it past the estate gates when hurried footsteps sounded behind me. Vivien caught up.

She stepped in front of me, triumph and venom written across her face without the slightest attempt to hide it.

“Leaving just like that, Kay? You must be seething inside.”

Vivien folded her arms across her chest, blocking my path, her lips curling into a vicious smile.

“Bartholomew announced my pregnancy in front of the whole family. Every single one of them accepts me now. That seat belongs to me sooner or later. Do yourself a favor and disappear.”

I had no interest in engaging with her. I stepped to the side, trying to go around.

“Move.”

Vivien's hand shot out and locked around my wrist, her eyes full of cold malice.

“Kay, since you won't step aside on your own, don't blame me for what comes next. If you won't destroy me, I'll destroy you first!”

I struggled, trying to wrench free, but her grip was iron-tight.

In the middle of my pulling away, Vivien's expression shifted. She threw herself backward, straight toward the road behind her.

A car was speeding past at that exact moment. It struck Vivien and she hit the ground with a piercing scream.