"Magnus, you’ve already married Colette; stop coming here every single day to share Camille with me! Keep turning a blind eye to her like this; sooner or later, she’ll catch on!"

"From now on, you can only come to our room on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. The rest of the days... Camille belongs to me, and me alone!"

Colette Moore stood frozen at the corner of the room, a bowl of hangover soup in her trembling hands. Her heart skipped a beat, no, several, as Spencer Ferrero’s words sank into her like cold steel.

The one speaking was Spencer, the man who was once her fiancé.

And the "Magnus" he spoke of was none other than his younger brother. Also, her current husband.

That night, what should have been her wedding night with Spencer, fate had played its cruelest joke.

Magnus Ferrero, drunk beyond reason, had stumbled into the wrong room. Blindfolded and completely unaware, Colette had fallen victim to a mistake neither of them saw coming.

Just as things spiraled out of control, Spencer had barged in, dragging along a noisy crowd of relatives who were stirring up trouble during the wedding celebration.

And there they were, utterly exposed, stripped of dignity and innocence, tangled in the worst misunderstanding of their lives.

Without missing a beat, Spencer had raised his phone, his hands steady, his heart cold, capturing every piece of their disgrace.

Then, mercilessly, he threw their shame online for the world to see.

Then and there, he shattered his lifelong engagement with Colette, a promise sealed since childhood, and without hesitation, proposed to the housekeeper’s daughter right before everyone’s eyes.

Overnight, Colette became the talk of the town, a walking joke, a name laced with ridicule.

They called her shameless. They accused her of sleeping with her fiancé’s brother on what was supposed to be her wedding night.

At the lowest point of her life, when all hope had drained from her veins, Magnus, the man she had unknowingly spent that night with, stepped forward like a storm breaking through her darkest sky.

Without flinching, he shouldered the blame and declared he would marry her in his brother’s place.

Colette’s heart trembled.

It felt like a drowning soul clinging desperately to a lifeline thrown at the final moment. Without hesitation, she registered her marriage with Magnus.

And just like he had promised, Magnus treated her like treasure. He was gentle, patient, and endlessly doting.

But now, that very man, who had once been her safe harbor, slammed his fist into the wall like a lion driven to madness.

“Spencer! I know you love Camille and want her all to yourself, but we had a deal! As long as I helped you break off your engagement with Colette, you promised to let me into your world, to be part of your relationship!”

“To make it up to Colette, I’ve already given her a title, a name, everything she ever wanted. I’ve been playing the perfect husband, and she doesn’t suspect anything! How dare you use her to threaten me, to keep me away from Camille!”

Colette shrank back into the corner, her tears falling like broken pearls, silent, endless, burning hot.

Only now did she realize that night had never been an accident.

Everything Magnus had done since then had been nothing but a well-crafted lie.

Just like his brother, his heart and eyes had long been filled with only one person, the housekeeper’s daughter, Camille Blanc.

Blinded by their fury, the two men failed to notice the subtle movement in the corner. Their voices grew louder, their anger boiling over, almost coming to blows.

But just then, the door to Spencer’s bedroom quietly creaked open.

A girl with a sweet face and a graceful figure stepped out, draped in a thin spaghetti-strap nightgown that clung to her like moonlight.

The moment she appeared, the two men froze in place. Their anger vanished like mist under the morning sun as they rushed to her side.

“Camille, why are you here? Did we wake you?”

Like a fragile bird, Camille nestled into Spencer’s arms. Yet, her slender, well-manicured hand reached out and brushed gently against Magnus’s cheek.

A trace of sorrow clouded her delicate features.

“Magnus, it’s not that I don’t want to be close to you…” Her voice trembled like a fragile thread in the wind. “In my heart, both you and Spencer mean the world to me.”

“But I have no child to depend on. I’m not like other women. I can’t have children.”

“On the night of your wedding, Colette got pregnant with your child. Grandpa has already said the first grandson of the Ferrero family will inherit everything.”

“If Colette ever finds out about us as the mother of the heir, she will never let me go.”

Tears slid down Camille’s cheeks, falling like raindrops on pear blossoms, adding a heartbreaking beauty to her sorrow.

Seeing her pitiful, wronged expression, Colette felt a chill crawl down her spine.

A terrible premonition coiled around her heart like a venomous snake, tightening with every breath.

And just as if the heavens were mocking her, the next scene shattered the last thread of hope in her chest.

Without hesitation, Magnus and Spencer stepped forward, pulling Camille gently into their arms, their voices soft, overflowing with affection, as if cradling a fragile treasure.

Their words, like sharp blades, dipped in honey, sliced through Colette’s heart.

The men she had trusted most, the very ones she had once thought would shield her from every storm, exchanged a knowing glance.

Then, in perfect harmony, their voices rang out, cold, determined, and merciless.

“Don’t worry, Camille. No one will ever hurt you.”

“Especially not Colette; we won’t let her threaten your place.”

“We’ll stage an accident, get rid of the baby, and remove her uterus.”

Hearing those words, Camille’s face immediately turned pale with panic. She rushed to cover both of their mouths, her hands trembling.

“I didn’t mean to harm Colette. I was just too scared. I only wanted you both to be careful.”

Seeing her panic-stricken sincerity, both Magnus and Spencer’s hearts melted instantly. Their expressions softened, and they nodded repeatedly, reassured by Camille’s words.

But the way they exchanged glances, long, quiet, and laden with unspoken promises, left Colette with no doubt. They still intended to follow through.

Unable to bear the sight any longer, Colette turned away, drifting like a ghost back to the bedroom where she and Magnus had once shared stolen moments of passion.

She had once dreamed of marrying Spencer, the man she had adored since childhood. But after everything that had happened, guilt twisted in her chest. She believed he had chosen someone else because of his disappointment in her.

Even after Spencer humiliated her time and time again, enlisting countless gossip sites to torment her online, Colette stayed silent, swallowing the bitterness in her heart.

When she married Magnus, the wounds began to heal slowly, almost imperceptibly. That small bedroom became her sanctuary, her personal utopia, a place where she could forget the pain.

But now, with the truth laid bare before her, Colette stood in the room Magnus had meticulously designed just for her, an unbearable irony gnawing at her heart.

Eight months ago, they had shared their first night here, the night they conceived their first child.

Colette’s eyes lingered on the bright red bedsheet, and a wave of nausea twisted in her stomach.

Her heart ached as she silently whispered an apology to the unborn child, already a target of its own father’s indifference.

With trembling hands, she reached for her phone and booked an appointment for an abortion.

To bring a child into this family, this twisted, broken family, would be a tragedy far too great.

Rather than waiting for them to destroy the child, she would take matters into her own hands and ensure the baby would never suffer.

The appointment was set for three days later, on the same day as their routine prenatal checkup.

She would have preferred another day, but since the wedding night scandal and the explosive nude photos, the gossip and online abuse had never stopped.

If she went out alone, the insults would drown her, a tidal wave of cruelty she could never outrun.

But with Magnus by her side, there was still a semblance of respect, a small buffer from the venomous public eye, thanks to the Ferrero family’s power.

Magnus didn’t notice a thing amiss. As always, he had prepared everything for the trip early in the morning, down to the last detail.

Along with the necessary documents and medical records, he had thoughtfully packed fruit and snacks.

Anyone observing them would have believed he was the perfect husband.

But now, staring at his flawless profile, Colette could only sigh bitterly. His act was convincing, too convincing.

Magnus’s car was an eye-catching sight. The moment they stepped out, a wave of gazes turned their way.

As expected, the admiration quickly turned to disdain and contempt the instant people saw her face.

One particularly bold woman shoved a camera in Colette’s face, shouting as she broadcasted live, “You little vixen! Seducing the Ferrero family’s eldest son wasn’t enough for you? Now you’ve gone after the younger one, too? The Ferrero family didn’t throw you out and even let you marry in, are you proud of that?”

Other onlookers quickly joined in, adding to the mob.

“I heard you and the eldest Ferrero were childhood sweethearts for over a decade. Now you’ve just switched husbands, so there’s no lingering affection, huh? The second son treats you so well. Are you cheating on him behind his back?”

As the words were spoken, the crowd’s eyes roamed over her with filthy gazes, their laughter laced with cruelty.

Colette had heard this kind of talk so many times that she was numb to it. Instinctively, she raised her hands to shield her face.

Yet, despite her best efforts, the tears still fell uncontrollably, and the pain in her chest intensified.

She knew she hadn’t cheated; it was never her intention. The ones who had orchestrated everything were Magnus and Spencer.

But to the outside world, the elder son was the poor, betrayed victim, while the younger one appeared to be the loyal, devoted man who stayed by her side through it all.

And the one carrying all the blame was her and her alone.

“What are you filming for?! This is illegal, don’t you know that?! Believe it or not, the Ferrero family can sue you one by one!”

Magnus arrived just in time, gripping Colette’s hand tightly and shielding her completely behind him.

She had witnessed scenes like this countless times before, each one moving her to the brink of tears. But today, something changed, and Colette suddenly understood.

With the Ferrero family’s power, if Magnus truly wanted to sue, how could she have weathered this storm for so long?

She was a fool; not once had she ever questioned him.

Slowly, Colette pulled her hand from his grasp. She could no longer bear to watch him play the role of the dutiful young master from a prestigious family.

“…Let’s go to the consultation room.”

Once inside, she would ask to switch the checkup for an abortion. She would release the child from this mess.

Magnus noticed the resistance in her touch, the coldness in her expression. For a brief moment, his body froze.

He reached out again, nervously taking her hand and asking what was wrong.

Before she could answer, his phone rang its special ringtone, the one he had set himself, cutting through the tension.

Magnus quickly picked up his phone, and the nervousness in his eyes vanished like smoke.

As he read the message on the screen, a grin spread across his face, impossible to suppress.

“Colette… the baby’s fine, really. It’s just some routine checkups, nothing to worry about.”

“I won’t be much help just standing there. Something urgent came up at the office, so I’ll head back first.”

Colette understood instantly, and a bitter irony twisted inside her.

It was Tuesday, the day Magnus could spend with Camille.

“Alright.”

“But there are too many people around. You need to walk me to the consultation room first.”

Magnus didn’t hesitate. “Colette, it’s just a little crowd. When did you become so sensitive? They’re not going to eat you,” he said, brushing her off as he strode ahead.

He pushed through the crowd without a second glance.

Feeling the growing, invasive stares from every side, the familiar sense of dread crept up on Colette once more.

She shouted Magnus’s name, trying to follow him, but the crowd pressed in, blocking her way.

He paused for a split second, his head turning at the sound of her frightened voice.

But then, the text from Camille flashed in his mind, asking to meet, and without a second thought, Magnus chose to leave.

No matter how loudly Colette called after him, he didn’t so much as glance back.

As the crowd saw him walk away, their murmurings grew louder, and the air thickened with tension.

Then, as if the sight of her abandonment had stirred something in them, a group of burly men surrounded her.

“Colette, your husband doesn’t want you anymore; what now? Looking for another man? We can help with that.”

Colette pushed back, but the pressure from the growing crowd was overwhelming.

Her pregnant belly, heavy and sensitive, was shoved and squeezed, sending waves of pain shooting through her body.

A cold sweat beaded on her forehead.

“No… Please, stop…” she whispered, her voice trembling, but no one heard her or cared.

The crowd closed in tighter, suffocating her. She had nowhere to turn.

It felt like she was drowning in a sea of strangers.

By the time security arrived, her body was battered and bruised, and half her clothes had been torn away, leaving her shoulder exposed to the air.

Seeing her crumpled on the floor, the crowd descended like hungry wolves sensing blood, their phones raised high, snapping photos and filming the spectacle.

Colette curled up in a ball, feeling as though she were nothing more than a stray dog discarded by its owner.

It wasn’t until a compassionate nurse rushed to her side and guided her into the consultation room that the crowd finally dispersed, their eager gazes following her every step.

Even after sitting in the quiet room, Colette’s body trembled as though the wolves outside were still circling, ready to strike.

The obstetrician, a woman with a soft touch, stroked Colette’s hair gently. After hearing the nurse’s account, her face softened with pity.

“No wonder you were so determined to terminate. ”

“At this stage in your pregnancy, we typically wouldn’t allow it. But given your situation, we can make an exception and apply for it.”

Just as the doctor turned to leave, Colette’s hand shot out and grasped hers.

“No, doctor, I’m not having an abortion.”

“I want a divorce, now.”