Looking at those lines of text, I kept a blank face and sent nothing back.

Once the screen went dark, I didn’t feel even the smallest shift inside.

Zion had always been like this, liking to watch me get jealous, lose control, break down because of him, then be pushed to lower my head and give in because I loved him.

But I was truly worn out.

So drained that I didn’t even have the energy to argue with him anymore.

Grandma Ravenna said to give her a week, and she would settle everything.

I didn’t have to do anything, just quietly wait for the week to end, and I would finally be free.

The next morning, when I woke up, there was a familiar presence beside me.

I didn’t know when Zion had come back. He leaned against the headboard, his fingertips lightly playing with my loose strands of hair in a distracted way.

His other hand rested on my swollen belly, his head lowered, as if he were truly listening to something.

“The baby is moving.”

He smiled at me. “Wife, he’s scratching me.”

As if responding to his words, a clear small movement pressed against his palm, tiny but sure.

My heart suddenly ached sharply, but I didn’t move away.

Zion had always been like this.

No matter how wildly he fooled around outside, whenever he returned to me, he acted like the gentle, patient husband, the father waiting for his baby to come.

He would soothe me softly, pull the blanket over me, and when my emotions slipped, he would repeat over and over, “Wife, I’ll fix myself,” “Don’t cry, alright?”

As long as I ignored the dirty things he did outside, we could still keep a marriage that looked warm and proper.

But I couldn’t keep doing that, and that was why I chose to walk away.

“Sit up and eat a little.”

Zion leaned down and kissed my forehead.

“After we eat, I’ll drive you to the hospital for the checkup. Isn’t your appointment today?”

At the dining table, while he watched me drink milk, Zion suddenly chuckled, with a hint of testing in his voice.

“Wife, I thought you would call me last night crying, just like when you used to catch me cheating, calling nonstop until I picked up.”

“What happened, little crybaby suddenly switched personality? You really don’t care anymore?”

I held the cup without raising my head.

“Isn’t this exactly what you’ve been hoping for?”

My voice stayed even. “A quiet, obedient Mrs. Payne who acts like nothing ever happened.”

Zion clearly stopped, as if my words caught him off guard.

Then he reached out and brushed my hair, like calming a small pet that had finally stopped resisting.

“It’s good you understand now. Men like us, how could we not have social situations to deal with?”

“Wife, relax. No matter what, you will always be the only woman I marry. The ones outside are just passing shadows.”

Passing shadows.

Those simple words landed lightly, soft and weightless, yet hard to breathe through.

I suddenly thought back to many years ago.

When Zion confessed to me, he had promised that in this life, he would only love me, stay true to me, and never turn his back on me.

So promises really do wear away. To the point where even he no longer trusted his own.

My nails pressed into my palm, the small pain spreading slowly, barely keeping me alert.

“Let’s go.”

I got up, cutting off Zion.

During the drive to the hospital, the car stayed quiet.

In the past, I would speak happily at times like this, chatting about the baby.

Only when the topic was the baby did I feel that Zion still cared about me, still cared about this family.

But now, I didn’t want to keep pretending anymore.

And even though Zion looked at me several times through the rearview mirror, he didn’t say a word.

Right before we reached the hospital, Zion’s phone rang.

The voice on the other end sounded upset, saying something about “causing trouble at the house,” “pulling someone away,” and “forcing her to marry an old man.”

Zion’s face didn’t change at all.

“That’s her family’s issue. What does that have to do with me? Didn’t I tell you, when I’m with my wife, don’t bring me anything else?”

He ended the call right away.

A moment later, Zion parked the car at the hospital entrance, put his hand on my belly, and spoke softly, “Baby, we’re at the hospital.”

I thought Zion might still have a bit of conscience left.

But after I took my number and turned back around, I saw the seat beside me was already empty.

Zion’s reply showed up quickly.

[Something happened.]

[The day after tomorrow is your mom’s death anniversary. I will come back for you and the baby.]

[Do your checkup alone today.]

I laughed mockingly, finished all the examinations by myself, and sat quietly in the hallway waiting for the results.

On Instagram, that esports girl streamer posted a new picture.

The restaurant lighting was soft and close. The Zion who should have been sitting beside me at the hospital was sitting across from her, looking focused.

The caption under it read, [Thanks to Brother Zion, I wasn’t dragged off by my own mom to marry an old guy. I’ll love him forever and stay with him.]

My throat tightened. I bit the inside of my cheek, placed a hand on my belly, and slowly rubbed it.

“Baby.”

I asked calmly, “If one day Daddy and Mommy get a divorce… will you blame Mommy?”

The baby inside me shifted, very lightly.

I already knew my own answer.

After leaving the hospital, I headed to the office by myself.

I started going through the shares, sorting the projects, and splitting the groups and resources under my control.

Anything I could settle clearly, I handled right away; anything I couldn’t finish yet, I placed into lists, noted with risks, numbers, and plans for division, packed together, and sent to the lawyer that Grandma Ravenna contacted for me.

As for the Payne family assets, I could not take a single part of them.

But this company was something Zion, and I built it from nothing, and I had to take what belonged to me.

Not for my own sake, but for the child inside me.

Since I had already decided she would not be born into the Payne family, I needed to lay out every step for her myself.

Her name, assets, and future, I would arrange them one by one for her.

Even if she no longer stayed in the Payne family, she still had to grow up secure and free, never having to rely on anyone’s pity.

After I confirmed the last file, my trusted assistant lowered his voice and asked, “President Morrison, for the project ‘Knowing Me,’ do you want the payout or the project itself?”

I didn’t reply right away.

Instead, I logged into “Knowing Me” again.

When the familiar page showed up, my fingers stopped for a moment.

This ancient-style game, from the world-building to the character design to every story path, was almost completely built during the best years between Zion and me.

Many nights staying awake, many times tearing everything down to redo it, those busy, focused, working-together days had truly existed.

I thought I had already settled my feelings, but right then, I still felt a small bit of hesitation.

I naturally tapped into the couple space shared by Zion and me, only to be pushed out instantly.

The female owner in that space had already been switched, at some unknown time, to that player “Maeve Larson.”

Zion clearly saw that I logged in.

He didn’t give a single word of explanation.

The next moment, a pop-up asking for a two-million transfer showed up on my screen.

[One of the small online figures working under me is streaming “Knowing Me” and needs a nice background setup.]

[The couple area, let me borrow it for now.]

He really knew how to “borrow” things. He took over the secret place we spent more than half a year building in a single second.

I chose to log out right away.

Then I looked toward my assistant and said, “I want the ‘Knowing Me’ project itself.”

And I wanted full say over it. I didn’t want Zion and another woman ruining this game.

During the next two days, I fully moved my attention away from Zion.

But he showed up everywhere.

Inside the game, Zion and the streamer Maeve were always together.

Her room stayed open nearly all day, the headlines growing more suggestive each time, the viewer count rising fast.

I never clicked in, but people kept “accidentally” sending me screen captures.

The latest picture showed Zion setting off fireworks in Maeve’s stream.

He lit them for a whole hour and a half just to celebrate her getting first place in a PK match.

I curved my mouth slightly and blocked the person who sent it, lowering my head again to sort the plans for my mother’s death anniversary.

Everyone kept talking about how Maeve was the woman Zion kept beside him the longest.

I guess whether she might one day take my place.

But no one noticed that I no longer wished to fight anyone for this “Mrs. Payne” role.

On my mother’s death anniversary, I dressed in all black, a white flower fastened to my chest, standing in the middle of the living room.

The guests all wore serious looks, lowering their voices while speaking. After giving their sympathy, they nodded at me one after another.

Everything should have ended calmly and with respect.

Until just as I was telling the staff to guide the guests to their seats, a purposely softened but still pointed voice came from outside the doorway.

“Ya… why is everyone wearing black clothes?”

I lifted my head and saw Zion standing at the entrance.

Behind him stood a woman dressed in bright red with heavy makeup, curled hair hanging over her shoulders.

She carefully leaned half her body forward, her eyes moving across the room, finally stopping on the memorial photo of my mother in the center of the living room, as if she only just understood.

“Ah… today… Someone passed away?”

Then she seemed to realize she had spoken out of place, quickly pulling a red flower from her hair, holding it between her fingers as she walked toward my mother’s memorial stand.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t know… can I put this flower here?”

Seeing her reach toward my mother’s memorial, the blood in my body went cold. I almost acted on instinct and pushed her away.

“Leave! Who told you that you could come in!”

The woman stepped back in a rush, almost losing her balance, but Zion caught her with his hand.

I stared at Zion, my voice shaking from trying to hold myself together, “Zion, didn’t I tell you not to bring those cheap women from outside into this house, messing up the place!”

“And today is my mother’s death anniversary!”

All the guests went still, their eyes turning toward that woman.

Maeve clearly hadn’t expected me to actually push her. She stared at me for a few seconds, looking lost, then her eyes turned wet right away, tears dropping as if on command.

“I-I didn’t try to cause trouble, it’s my birthday today, so I wore red… just hoping for a bit of luck…”

“I really didn’t know today was your mother’s death anniversary, I just… I just came home with Brother Zion because he told me to…”

Her voice got weaker and weaker, and in the end, she leaned straight into Zion’s arms, acting like she’d been hurt badly.

Zion’s face had already darkened completely.

He lowered his head first, checking her carefully, then eased his voice. “Were you scared?”

Maeve shook her head, then nodded, tears falling even faster, but she still held onto him as she whispered, “I’m okay.”

Only then did Zion lift his head and stare at me, his eyes cold and empty.

“Natalie, I assumed you had finally matured and learned to think. I didn’t expect you to still act like this.”

“Your mom has been gone for so long. I only learned today that her death anniversary falls on the same date as Maeve’s birthday.”

“I brought her in because I thought adding a bit of cheer might make the day lighter for your mom’s death anniversary. It’s not like I did anything wrong. And even that bothers you?”

“So childish.”

I angrily laughed.

When my mom was still here, she treated Zion like her own child, yet he walked in with another woman dressed in a red dress, standing in front of my mom’s memorial, and he still dared to say I was narrow-minded.

I raised my head, looked at Zion, and my voice became steady.

“Zion, on my mom’s death anniversary, you brought your mistress home. Is that what you call being broad-hearted?”

My sudden reply made Zion’s face turn dark in an instant.

He stared at me for a few moments, then let out a cold, short laugh.

“Natalie, you’re unbelievable! You can’t recognize kindness when you see it!”

He reached over, pulled Maeve into his arms, and covered her as he turned to walk out, as if saying even one more word to me was pointless.

I drew in a deep breath.

Then I turned around, forced a proper smile onto my face, and offered apologies and farewells to every relative and friend.

After the last guest left, I slowly stepped toward my mom’s memorial tablet and let all my defenses fall.

“I’m sorry, Mom.”

“Today is your death anniversary, but I ended up upsetting you. Okay, let’s stop bringing up things that hurt… Mom, I set up a room for the baby. Will you come see it?”

I held the memorial tablet and slowly walked toward the small room.

But the moment the door opened, I froze on the spot.

The room was in chaos.

The baby clothes I had folded neatly were gone, and the little toys I had arranged on the shelf had vanished too.

My first thought was that a thief had broken in.

I quickly called security to ask what had happened.

The security guard’s voice sounded unsure.

“Ma’am… this… it wasn’t someone from outside.”

“It was Mr. Payne… he had people take everything away.”

I stood frozen, a loud ringing filling my ears.

After hanging up, I opened Maeve’s social media and scrolled through her posts one by one.

Soon, in a few photos that looked casual, I spotted something I knew too well.

The dog in Maeve’s house was wearing the tiny outfit I had bought for my baby.

The once soft fabric had been chewed out of shape, soaked with spit.

On the carpet, torn into pieces, were the toys I had gotten for my baby!

I clenched my teeth so hard that my chest was sore to the point I could hardly breathe.

If these were things I had bought at random, maybe it wouldn’t have hurt this much.

But they weren’t.

Those clothes were ones I received by asking favors, borrowed from the children of respected people in different fields, and they were hand-me-downs from their kids.

I fixed each piece bit by bit, washed, dried, pressed them, pouring into them my hopes and wishes for my baby’s days ahead.

The toys came from old friends and family, each one was a heartfelt gift they handed me when they learned I was pregnant.

And now, Zion had personally taken them away.

To hand them to his mistress’s dog!

I lost all calm, held my belly, and rushed straight to the company.

The front-desk assistant stopped short when he saw me, then quickly stood up in alarm. “Ma’am, Mr. Payne can’t see anyone right now—”

I ignored him and walked right inside.

The assistant rushed after me, stepping in front of me, lowering his voice with clear intent to stop me.

“You really can’t go in right now.”

Before I said anything, sounds came from the slightly open office door at the end of the hall.

A woman’s forced, shaky breaths, mixed with a man’s low, suggestive chuckles, and the faint thuds of furniture being bumped, all reached my ears at once.

A wave of heat rushed to my head, then drained in an instant, leaving my arms and legs cold.

I didn’t look at the assistant again.

I lifted my hand and pushed the door open.

The door hit the wall hard.

The scene inside the office appeared right in front of me with nothing hidden.

The messy desk, documents scattered, the chair pushed aside, and Zion leaning against the desk with his clothes in disarray, while Maeve was half leaning into his hold, her skirt wrinkled, her face flushed.

The air carried a sickening smell.

Maeve jumped in surprise; the next moment, her eyes watered instantly, and she curled into Zion’s arms by instinct.

I stood in the doorway, my fingers pressing into the frame, a tight pain spreading across my belly.

“Zion.” My voice shook.

“Why did you hand the clothes I got ready for my baby… to this woman’s dog?”

The moment she heard that, Maeve’s tears dropped right away.

“Sis… Sis…” Her tone was soft and hurt. “I just… just saw those outfits on Brother Zion’s phone a few days back, and I thought they looked so cute… so I casually said… it’d be nice if my dog could try them on…”

“And Zion gave me those clothes and toys the next day. I honestly didn’t know they were for your baby. If I knew, how could I take them?”

A sharp pain throbbed at my temples. I had barely opened my mouth when Zion let out a short laugh.

He lowered his head to look at Maeve, his tone gentle and doting.

“Why bother saying so much to her?”

“How could she not take them?” His tone was careless. “Those worn-out old outfits, letting a dog use them fits just fine.”

A loud buzzing rushed through my head.

Worn?

Good for a dog?

My voice scraped out of my throat with effort. “Zion, those were the clothes I begged—”

“Enough.” Zion impatiently interrupted me.

“Can you stop making such a big deal?”

He lightly touched Maeve’s back, sounding completely dismissive.

“What you did at your mom’s death anniversary upset Maeve. I took a few outfits and toys to compensate her. What’s the issue?”

He looked straight at me, his expression cold. “And now you run to the company to yell?”

Compensate?

Using our baby’s clothes and toys to make it up to his mistress?