When Ryan Cooper’s company was teetering on the edge of bankruptcy, I discovered I was pregnant with his child.

Desperate to save him, I pleaded with my wealthy mother to approve our marriage. After three agonizing days and nights of begging, she finally relented and promised to rescue Ryan’s company.

Elated, I hurried to share the good news with him. But the moment I stepped into his office, his words cut through me like a blade.

“Next month, I’m marrying Emily. Her father’s rich and he’s willing to save my company,” Ryan said coldly. “But don’t worry. As long as the company survives, I’ll still support you.”

Then he added, as if it were some twisted consolation, “I still love you.”

I froze, stunned by his betrayal. My mind raced as I tried to process his words. Emily Hart?

Half a year ago, I’d slapped her eighteen times for trying to seduce my father. And now, she was the woman Ryan was choosing over me?

——

“Ryan, do you even hear yourself?” I shouted, anger and disbelief swelling in my chest.

“I worked so hard to convince my mother to help us and now you’re telling me you’re going to marry someone else?”

But Ryan’s expression remained unyielding. He crossed his arms and glared at me, his tone sharp and unrelenting.

“Do you even understand the situation the company’s in?” he snapped. “Emily is the only way to save it. Whether you accept it or not, this is happening.”

His determination hit me like a slap. My anger surged, my voice trembling with fury.

“Do you even care what I’ve done for you?” I shouted. “Do you know how much I’ve sacrificed?”

But Ryan just laughed—a cruel, mocking sound that made my stomach churn.

“Sacrificed? Don’t make me laugh,” he sneered. “All you’ve done is cling to me and distract me from work. What else have you ever done for me?”

His words cut deeper than any blade. My vision blurred with tears and a sharp pain twisted in my belly—a reminder of the life growing inside me.

“Ryan, you bastard!” I screamed, my voice cracking. “I’m pregnant with your child!”

His eyes widened in shock. For a brief moment, I thought I saw a flicker of guilt. But then he shook his head, his face darkening.

“That’s impossible,” he said, his voice rising with agitation. “You’re lying. There’s no way you’re pregnant.”

Furious, I reached into my bag, pulled out the ultrasound report and hurled it at him.

“I’m pregnant because of you!” I cried. “For your sake, I begged my mother for help. I swallowed my pride and endured her scorn for three days and nights. And this is how you repay me?”

Ryan snatched the report off the floor and scanned it, his jaw tightening. Without hesitation, he ripped it into shreds and threw the pieces at me.

“You knew about me and Emily, didn’t you?” he accused. “This is just another one of your manipulative games! When did you become so conniving, Claire?”

I stared at him, my heart breaking with every word he spoke.

“You’re unbelievable,” I said, my voice trembling. “After everything we’ve been through—seven years of love, of building a life together—this is who you’ve become?”

But Ryan was unmoved. “If I leave Emily and the company collapses, we’ll both be ruined. Is that what you want?” he demanded.

His words were a cold, hard slap of reality. The man I had loved since college was gone, replaced by someone I no longer recognized.

For a moment, I just stood there, my tears flowing freely. Then I clenched my fists and glared at him with all the strength I had left.

“You’re a monster, Ryan,” I said, my voice steady despite the tears. “You’re willing to destroy me and our child for your own gain. Is that what love means to you?”

For the first time, Ryan’s expression softened. He sighed, stepping closer to me, his hand reaching out. But I stepped back, refusing his touch.

"Claire, don't take it the wrong way—I really don't have a choice," Ryan said, his voice tinged with frustration.

“Listen, once the company’s crisis is over, I’ll secretly buy you a house. You can live there and I’ll visit whenever I can.”

He paused, as if expecting me to be grateful for his plan.

“But right now, I can’t afford to lose an opportunity like the one Emily offers. She’s my only way out of this mess.”

I stared at him, utterly speechless. It was hard to believe that such heartless words could come from someone I thought I knew.

“So, let me get this straight,” I said, my voice trembling. “You want to marry her, while making me your mistress?”

Ryan shrugged, as if it were the most logical solution in the world.

“What other choice do I have?” he snapped. “If I don’t marry Emily, the company will collapse. But if I do, I can turn everything around and have the life I’ve always wanted.

“Since you refuse to leave me, this is the only way. You’ll just have to accept it!”

The sheer audacity of his words left me seething. Ryan even had the nerve to slam his hand on the table, acting as though I was the unreasonable one.

I couldn’t hold back any longer. Grabbing the glass of water on the table, I splashed it directly in his face.

“Claire, you’re being ridiculous!” he yelled, but I didn’t care.

Without another word, I stormed into the bedroom and slammed the door shut.

From the other side, I could still hear him shouting, his tone dripping with contempt.

“I’m giving you three days to think this through! If you don’t agree, you can get out of my life for good!”

“And don’t kid yourself, Claire. Do you really think you’re better than Emily? You should feel lucky I’m even offering you this chance, considering everything we’ve been through!”

Moments later, I heard the door slam as Ryan left the apartment. I sank to the floor, leaning against the bedroom door, clutching my knees. Hot tears streamed down my face as I let out muffled sobs.

He wanted to turn me, his loyal girlfriend of seven years, into a mistress—and he said it as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world.

I couldn’t believe how blind I had been. This wasn’t love.

As I sat there, my eyes wandered to the floor beneath the bed. Something caught my attention—a small, familiar box. I reached for it, my heart sinking as I realized what it was. It was an empty box of condoms. Seven were supposed to be inside, but all of them had been used.

The realization hit me like a freight train. In the three days I had been at my mother’s house, begging her to approve our marriage, Ryan had brought her here. Emily Hart.

They had spent those days in our bed, laughing and shamelessly carrying on while I was sacrificing everything for him. My heart clenched with pain, the betrayal cutting deeper than I thought possible.

“Ryan,” I whispered through gritted teeth, “you’ve crossed the line.” Hatred surged through me, drowning out the pain. He was going to regret this.

I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contacts until I found Emily’s number. Months ago, I had hired a private investigator to dig up dirt on her when I discovered she was seducing my father. I had confronted her back then, but I had let her off too easily.

Not this time. But as I prepared to call her, a notification popped up on my phone. It was a new post on Emily’s social media.

“I told him I didn’t want to sleep alone and my boyfriend rushed over to keep me company. This is the kind of love I deserve,” the caption read.

Attached to the post was a photo of Emily lying in Ryan’s arms, a smug smile on her face. Ryan, who had been shouting at me just hours ago, was now cradling her like she was his whole world.

My hands trembled as I stared at the image. Hot tears spilled down my cheeks, but this time, they felt more like liquid rage.

“Fine,” I whispered to myself, setting the phone down. “If this is how you want it, Ryan, then so be it. You’ll see exactly what you’ve thrown away.”

The next morning, I got up early. My eyes were puffy from crying, but my resolve was stronger than ever. I went straight to the hospital.

This child was destined to be a cruel joke.

When I dragged my exhausted body back to the apartment after terminating the pregnancy, Ryan was already home. To my surprise, the dining table was set with several dishes. For a moment, I couldn't decipher his intentions.

When he saw me walk in, Ryan immediately plastered a smile on his face, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “I made a few special dishes for you, Claire. Come on, have a taste and tell me how my cooking skills are,” he said cheerfully, grabbing a king crab leg and placing it in my bowl.

But as I stared at the food in front of me, I felt nothing—no hunger, no gratitude, only cold detachment. It didn’t take long for me to notice the obvious: these dishes weren’t cooked by him. They were takeout.

“Since when did you become a master chef?” I asked, my tone laced with sarcasm as I shot him an icy glare.

I already knew the truth, thanks to Emily’s social media post. Her gloating had told me everything. These dishes weren’t meant for me—they were the leftovers from Ryan and Emily’s extravagant meal.

In his eyes, I was worth nothing more than scraps. And he had the audacity to bring them home, as though they were a gift.

Ryan’s forced smile faltered. He finally dropped the act, letting out a small laugh.

“Well, you know I can’t cook,” he admitted, shrugging. “But you should still try them. These dishes are from the chef at the Imperial Hotel. Do you know how much they cost? You’d need thousands just to afford a meal like this.”

I smiled bitterly at his words. “Wow, Ryan. How generous of you.”

He didn’t know that my mother used to take me to the Imperial Hotel regularly when I was a child. I’d eaten there so often I’d grown tired of it.

But for Ryan, I had given up all my comforts and lived a simpler life. I even went along with his frugal habits, like the time we passed by the hotel and I mentioned how much I missed their signature lion’s head meatballs. He didn’t hesitate to dismiss the idea, saying, “It’s too expensive. We can’t afford that.”

And yet now, not only had he taken Emily there and ordered their most extravagant dishes, but he’d brought home their leftovers—food that likely still carried traces of her lipstick and saliva—for me to eat.

It was disgusting. But what truly pushed me over the edge were his next words.

Ryan looked at me, his voice softening further, as if he were delivering a heartfelt confession.

“Claire, please don’t think this means I don’t care. When I found out you were pregnant with my child, I was thrilled.”

He smiled, as if expecting me to share in his excitement. “So here’s what we’ll do. Once the company gets through this crisis, we’ll keep the baby and I’ll take care of everything. I’ll make sure you’re comfortable and provide for you both.”

I stared at him, incredulous. “You’re going to marry Emily and you still want this child? For what?”

Ryan sighed, as though I was being unreasonable. “Claire, I know how much you love me. I understand how hard it must be for you to accept the situation with the company. So, to make it up to you, I’ll do everything I can. I’ll buy you a house and I promise to visit you and the baby whenever I can.

“Claire, I truly cherish the relationship we’ve had all these years,” he said, his tone dripping with fake sincerity.

He actually thought his manipulative words would sway me. He didn’t realize that every sentence he spoke made me feel more nauseous.

Ryan wanted it all. He wanted to marry Emily to save his company while keeping me as his secret mistress. He expected me to comply with his selfish plan, thinking I’d be so blinded by love that I’d settle for his scraps.

I let out a bitter laugh. He truly didn’t understand me at all. Reaching into my bag, I pulled out the document I’d been holding onto—the abortion slip.

I placed it on the table and slid it toward him. “The baby,” I said coldly, meeting his eyes, “is already gone.”