“Hubby... I don’t want to be alone. Please, don’t go.”

Anthony hesitated for only a second before smiling helplessly. “Diana, be good. I’m doing this for your own good. Only if you recover can we have another baby in the future, hmm?”

He pried my hands off his arm, turned, and walked away without looking back.

The very next moment, several men in black masks strode in with iron rods glinting in their hands, wearing twisted grins with malice.

One of them kicked my phone away before I could dial for help.

My arms and legs were pinned down.

The heavy rods came crashing down on my abdomen like a relentless rain of steel.

Pain exploded through me; the veins on my forehead throbbed and my vision blurred.

Hot blood gushed beneath me, spreading across the floor.

They didn’t stop until my body convulsed, and I collapsed, trembling in agony.

Thinking I had passed out, one of the men sneered.

“Lucky for us, President Jimenez didn’t want any accidents—and to make sure Ms. Ruiz feels completely at ease—he let us in earlier and hid us in the living room. Otherwise, this woman might have ruined our payday.”

It was the voice of the property manager.

Just before darkness swallowed me whole, a bitter laugh rose in my chest.

Anthony... all to pave the way for your beloved and her child, you really went to great lengths.

...

When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in my bed. The family’s private doctor gave me a pitying look before leaving with a sigh.

Anthony sat by my side, his eyes red as if from crying.

“Diana, I’m sorry. I should’ve checked the locks before I left... That’s how those bastards got in. The police said it might be hard to find them since they were masked, but no matter how hard it is, I’ll hunt them down and make them pay for what they did to you.”

Then his voice softened, almost tender.

“The doctor says your uterus was severely damaged from the blows... you won’t be able to have children again. But don’t worry—even if you can’t bear children, I’ll never despise you. I’ll take care of you for the rest of my life.”

But I knew—he hadn’t called the police. He had already helped those men leave Amsterdam.

I stared at him blankly, not bothering to expose his lies.

His eyes flicked to his watch, and a trace of impatience crossed his face.

“Diana, there’s an important client I have to meet tonight...”

“I’m fine,” I said flatly. “Go.”

“I knew my wife was the most understanding. Rest well. I’ll come back early to keep you company.”

He pressed a perfunctory kiss on my forehead and left in a rush without looking back.

Ten seconds later, I heard the sound of a door closing upstairs, followed by the laughter of a woman and a child.

Dragging my aching body into the living room, I noticed a phone lying on the sofa—an unfamiliar one. In his hurry to meet his lover, Anthony had forgotten to take it.

In all our years of marriage, I had never known he had another phone.

The passcode was Vanessa’s birthday.

I remembered it clearly—when I had sued her, I’d memorized her personal information.

The Instagram account on this phone had only one contact: Vanessa.

Her name was saved with three emojis—man, heart, woman.

A simple, blatant declaration of love.

The gallery held over ten thousand photos—every single one of them was Anthony, Vanessa, and their child, smiling and embracing.

All those “business trips” of his were trips abroad with them, for shopping, sightseeing, and luxury vacations.

Transfer records of staggering amounts, receipts for designer goods—each one a slap in the face for my stupidity.

Even worse, every night, after my daughter and I were asleep, he would go upstairs to be with Vanessa.

And then I read the messages—each one a blade twisting into my chest.

[Anthony, thank you for turning down that multi-billion contract just to be with me during childbirth. With you here, I’m not afraid of anything...]

[Look at you—it’s not even your first time being a father, yet just to make our son call you ‘daddy’ a few more times, you built him an entire playground?]

I remembered when I gave birth to my daughter—it was difficult labor, and Anthony was only two streets away, having dinner with a client.

I thought I was going to die.

Terrified, I called him, begging him to come see me just once.

All I got was his cold reply, “Diana, it’s just childbirth. Every woman has to go through it. Even if I come, I can’t help you give birth. I don’t like doing this kind of pointless, ceremonial stuff."

"You’ll be fine. Be strong. I’ll bring you a gift when I get back.”

Upstairs, laughter spilled down the walls—birthday songs, the clinking of glasses.

The sound pierced my chest like needles.

Whenever our daughter wanted Anthony to celebrate her birthday with her, he would push her away with the same cold dismissal.

“I’m busy with work. You’re six years old already. You should be mature enough not to bother adults all the time.”

Love or the absence of it—it was that obvious.

I didn’t know when Anthony came home that night.

All I knew was that when I woke up the next morning, he had already set the table with a full spread of dishes.

“Diana, I made these myself. Come taste them and see if they’re good.”

I glanced at the food and almost laughed aloud. Yes, he had “made” them.

But I’d seen Vanessa’s social media post last night—these were nothing more than their leftover dishes.

“Oh, by the way, Diana,” he said casually, “after I left yesterday, you stayed in the bedroom the whole time, right? You didn’t see anything in the living room?”

Looking at his probing expression, I found it almost amusing.

“No. I was too tired and slept straight through.”

Hearing this, he relaxed, hiding it behind a practiced calm.

“You’ve been holding off on cremating Cherry because you wanted justice for her, so she could rest in peace. But since it was just an accident, it’s time to let her be buried. Let’s set the funeral for tomorrow."

"I’ve already informed the relatives. Mom rushed back. Tonight, we’ll have dinner with the family, and tomorrow morning, we’ll go to the crematorium.”

I didn’t answer. But a heavy bitterness welled in my chest.

Yes—witnesses had been bribed, and even the evidence was destroyed.

Maybe even Cherry wouldn’t want to stay in this filthy world any longer.

The only one to blame was me—blind enough to love the wrong man.

When I entered the private dining room, I froze.

My mother-in-law was cradling a five-year-old boy in her arms, doting on him as if he were the jewel of her heart.

Vanessa was standing nearby, and my mother-in-law pulled her down to sit beside her, chatting and laughing like old friends.

That seat—was supposed to be the daughter-in-law’s seat.

I hadn’t known they even knew each other.

Anthony had never told me.

When Vanessa saw me, her tone dripped with mockery.

“Auntie, didn’t I tell you? Of course Diana would come to an occasion like this. As for what you said earlier—about me standing in as the Jimenez family’s hostess to help Anthony entertain guests—you’d better forget it."

"After all, Diana is still his wife. I wouldn’t want her to get jealous and accuse me of something I didn’t do. I can’t afford that kind of trouble.”

My mother-in-law shot me a contemptuous glance and scoffed, “A useless thing like you—only capable of giving birth to a money-losing girl—what right do you have to be angry? That brat dying was a blessing from the heavens, saving our family money. And yet you made a fuss, falsely accused Vanessa, and even dragged her into court. Aren’t you ashamed?"

"You’re worthless. You even let someone beat you until you can’t have children anymore. With so many people in this neighborhood, why did they target you? Maybe because you don’t behave yourself—probably your own shamelessness brought that trouble home."

"Vanessa is the capable one—her first child was a boy. If it weren’t for that, our family would’ve been in trouble. Anyway, I like Cooper, so I’ve already recognized him as my god-grandson. From now on, Vanessa’s status will be the same as yours.”

My mother-in-law was different from those who cared about social class or family background—she cared about one thing only: whether you could give her a grandson.

She had only escaped her bitter life because she gave birth to a son.

Back when Anthony had no money, she went out of her way to flatter me—just so my family would give him the funds to start his business.

Later, when Anthony’s company went public and his business grew, my own family was framed and our company went bankrupt. My only brother fell from a cliff, his body was never found. I lost my worth to them overnight.

From then on, she decided my education was too high, my looks too eye-catching—women like me were hard to control, restless by nature. She could never stomach me.

Vanessa covered her mouth and laughed happily, then led Cooper over to me. She pulled a few crumpled bills from her bag.

“Ms. Brooks, although you falsely accused me, it was still our Cooper Jimenez being naughty. This money is my token of goodwill to you and Cherry. You must accept it.”

She deliberately stressed the word Jimenez.

I lowered my gaze. Not too much, not too little—666 dollars.

Go to hell.

“Ms. Brooks,” she went on with a faux-innocent smile, “don’t blame me for being blunt, but I do know a little about face-reading. Your daughter—well, she looked short-lived from the start. Even without our Cooper, she would have died sooner or later.”

So—she was saying my daughter’s death was deserved?

I shoved her hard.

“Shut your filthy mouth! You, a murderer, have no right to speak of my daughter. Take your bastard and get out!”

Vanessa stumbled backward, caught just in time by Anthony. He gave me a cold look.

“Diana, watch your mouth. You’ve already lost the lawsuit. Cherry’s death was an accident. What right do you have to speak to Nessa like that—let alone lay hands on her?! Apologize, now!”

Nessa? How affectionate.

“Anthony, have you forgotten who your wife is? Your mother deliberately invited Vanessa to this family gathering to disgust me. She and you both insulted me and Cherry, and you just stood there."

"Fine—I’ll treat it as you wanting to play the dutiful son. But Cherry died so miserably, and Vanessa still dares to mock me, bringing this money to provoke me. Don’t tell me you don’t know that 666 sounds like go to hell. Are you going to keep pretending you’re blind?”

A flicker of hesitation crossed Anthony’s face—he seemed to realize how inappropriate this was.

But before he could speak, Cooper, who had been standing between us, suddenly burst into loud sobs.

Rolling up his sleeve, he revealed bruises on his arm and pointed at me in accusation.

“Daddy, this bad woman pinched me on purpose! She must be taking revenge on Mommy. Cooper hurts so much...”

At once, Vanessa’s eyes shimmered with tears.

“Ms. Brooks, you’ve misunderstood me. I left the house in a rush today, so I only had this money with me. I sincerely wanted to compensate you. I’m a simple person—unlike you, I don’t have so many schemes."

"I know you dislike me, but if you have a problem, take it out on me. Why bully a child?”

My mother-in-law looked ready to faint from distress. She slapped the table and shouted at me to get out.

“Anthony, I didn’t—”

Anthony cut me off impatiently, his face dark as iron.

“Diana, Cooper is only five. You think a child that age can lie? He didn’t hurt Cherry on purpose—what would a kid know? Must you blow everything out of proportion?"

"Mom said Cooper is her grandson now—so that makes him my son. I have to stand up for him and Vanessa.”

He shoved Cooper toward me.

“Cooper, Daddy will teach you something today: if someone bullies you, you bully them back. Whatever this auntie did to you, you do it back to her.”

A sly smile flashed in Cooper’s eyes before he put on an innocent act.

“But Daddy, I’m just a kid. My strength isn’t as big as an adult’s. She definitely won’t hurt as much as I do. That wouldn’t be fair!”