At five months pregnant, I was pushed from the third floor, my body crashing onto the ground, blood spreading everywhere.

Javon Davis brought in top experts from around the world. They saved my life, but the child, just like the seven before, was gone forever.

I was broken beyond repair, devastated, wandering in desperation just to find a trace of the child I had lost once more.

Then, hidden in the shadows of the hospital, I overheard Javon with the doctor.

“Mr. Davis, there are other ways. Why must you insist on taking away what’s in your wife’s belly… that’s your own flesh and blood too!”

“Cynthia has a cleanliness obsession, and she needs this. This is the safest way.”

“But someone else’s child, I fear, it won’t be healthy.”

The truth behind all my losses struck me like a knife, revealed so suddenly, so cruelly.

So it was the husband who claimed to love me so deeply who had been the real culprit all along.

He loved Cynthia Whitney so much.

Very well. I would grant them their wish.

——

Just one door away, the conversation in the hospital’s corner room carried on.

“Prepare now, while Addison hasn’t woken up. Go ahead with the hysterectomy.”

The doctor froze. “You want to remove her uterus?!”

“Doctor, I must remind you, you have no children yet. If you truly take her uterus, you’ll have no heir!”

“I don’t need an heir. Cynthia already gave birth to my child yesterday. I promised her I’d leave all my wealth to our child. Keeping Addison’s uterus is nothing but a threat.”

The doctor’s face turned uneasy.

“But your child with Cynthia will still bear another man’s surname, and call someone else father. Your wife has already miscarried seven times; her chance of conceiving again is nearly gone.”

Javon lit a cigarette, his voice low and sorrowful.

“It’s not about whether it’s worth it. I love Cynthia, and for her, I’ll give everything.”

“But….”

Javon’s brows darkened.

“No buts. Do as I say.”

Just as Javon was about to rise from his seat, his phone rang. By mistake, he pressed the speakerphone.

“Javon, I got the money. Next time something like this happens, make sure to call me. I’ve done it seven times already, I know exactly how it goes. In fact, I already have an idea for the next one. I’ll pose as a kidnapper and go straight for her belly…”

“There won’t be a next time. Take your money and get out of Rivenport.”

Footsteps echoed from the hall.

My heart lurched as I staggered back into the ward. Before I could even lie down, Javon had already stepped inside.

“Addison, when did you wake up?”

Cold sweat clung to me, my body trembling, though I forced myself to appear calm.

“Just now. I didn’t see you around, so I thought of coming out to look for you.”

His gaze fixed on me, sharp and probing, as if searching for the truth hidden behind my words.

My heart seized in terror. Just when I thought he had seen through me, he swept me into his arms and placed me on the bed.

“How could you be so careless? We’ve already lost our baby; you can’t let anything else happen to you.”

And he dared to speak of it.

The thought of the child he had intentionally destroyed made me clutch my chest, my tears rushing out uncontrollably.

So every car crash, every robbery, every fall, they had never been accidents.

They had been Javon’s doing, again and again, just to clear the way for his mistress.

“The doctor just said your uterus wasn’t cleaned properly. You’ll need another surgery.”

“Addison, don’t be afraid. We’ll have a beautiful child. He’ll carry your eyes, my nose, and mouth. When the time comes, we’ll love him twice as much, to make up for every regret.”

Javon passed me a glass of milk. As he shifted, I saw him slip something into it.

Then he held me close, murmuring softly, his gaze brimming with false tenderness.

I knew in my heart that this was nothing but the mask he wore to deceive me.

“Must I drink it… can I refuse?”

Javon, you had already murdered seven of my children. Now, you wanted to take from me even the last right of being a mother.

He did not waver. With a gentle pat on my head, he smiled as though in doting care.

“You’re such a grown woman, yet still acting like a child. If you refuse the surgery, how can your body recover? Do you want your husband to be worried sick?”

“Come, let me feed you.”

He held the milk to my lips, forcing it upon me without room for resistance.

I shut my eyes tightly, feeling as though I swallowed not milk, but knives laced with thorns.

My consciousness slipped away. In the fog of my fading sight, I saw the doctor who had conspired with Javon step in.

“Let’s proceed with the surgery now. Also…”

Javon’s voice paused for several seconds before he spoke.

“Use anesthesia to paralyze her lower body.”

“Mr. Davis, isn’t that unnecessary? Isn’t it far too cruel?”

“Do as I said!”

I had always known Javon to be wary and suspicious, yet I never expected that simply because he saw me awake earlier, he would become this ruthless.

My child, my right to be a mother, and now even the chance to walk, he wanted to take it all away.

Javon, must you tear out my heart like this?

In despair, I screamed, struggling to rise, only to sink deeper into the darkness of unconsciousness.

When the haze of anesthesia lifted, I vaguely heard the doctor’s voice. “Mr. Davis, her uterus has been removed. Also, she will never stand again.”

Overcome with delight, Javon repeated twice, “Good! Good!”

When I fully woke, his tears dripped onto my hand, his grief appearing heartbreakingly real.

“Addison, the doctor said your uterus had rotted, you will never be able to bear children again.”

I ignored his words, desperately trying to move my legs.

But there was no sensation at all.

I broke down, sobbing until I could scarcely breathe, my body trembling as I demanded, “Javon, what did you do to my legs?”

His tears fell in heavy drops, his voice choking so hard he could barely form words.

“The anesthesia surgery went wrong. Your lower body… is paralyzed.”

“Addison, don’t be afraid. No matter what you become, I’ll never leave you. I’ll always love you.”

I never imagined Javon’s acting could be so flawless.

He sent the nurses away, personally feeding me oatmeal, wiping my body, and even cleaning my postpartum discharge with his own hands.

Busy until late into the night, he finally leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to my forehead.

“Addison, you’ve suffered so much carrying children for me. From now on, I’ll treat you twice as well.”

I glanced at his weary face, then coldly turned my eyes away.

“If you’re tired, rest for a while.”

“Alright, I’ll stay here and watch over you. Call me if you need anything.”

When his breathing deepened and he fell asleep, I reached for his other phone.

I had always known Javon kept another one, but I had thought it was only for work, so I had never checked it.

I tried once, and it unlocked immediately.

The password was Cynthia’s birthday.

The lock screen lit up with their wedding photos.

Wedding photos.

He had actually gone to take wedding photos with Cynthia. That white gown pierced my eyes like fire.

With trembling fingers, I opened his WhatsApp. Javon had saved her name as “baby”…

Message after message, the deeper I read, the colder my heart became.

So every so-called business trip had been nothing but an excuse to be with Cynthia.

I had swallowed my anger countless times, hating how he never once went with me to the hospital.

So many times, when doctors asked where the baby’s father was, I could only force a smile and answer that he was busy.

Every time, he delayed endlessly before replying to my messages.

“I’m doing this to earn milk powder money for our baby. Checkups aren’t such a big deal. Even if I go, I can’t really help, and it’s just a waste of time. Things you can handle yourself, you should just do on your own.”

Yet with Cynthia, it was never the same. He stayed by her side, let her rest, protected her pregnancy, and walked with her through every prenatal checkup. No matter how busy his days became, he never missed one.

He said he longed for the day their baby would be born, that she and the child were the treasures of his life.

As I scrolled further, my heart twisted so tight it felt like it was being ripped apart, the pain cutting deep.

Whenever I carried a child, they were only discussing how to destroy it.

Even the accident a year ago, when I was pregnant, it was Cynthia who drove the car. She said she wanted the thrill of striking someone, and Javon, smiling, had agreed.

He offered only one careless warning. “Go easy.”

They spoke with ease about wounding me, about killing my children, as if it were no different from discussing the weather.

My nails dug deep into my palm until blood seeped out in drops.

I opened the photo album, tens of thousands of pictures, every one of them filled with Cynthia. Selfies, stolen shots, scenes of them waking up together, walking together, going home together… even Javon, carefully preparing meals for her while she was pregnant.

Then came the 99+ recorded videos. The moment I switched, it was like a basin of ice water poured over my head, chilling me to the marrow.

Endless clips of their bare bodies entwined, as if they had made it a point to capture every single encounter.

They even role-played, Javon, dressed in a maid's outfit, kneeling before her.

I gripped my stomach, the nausea rising until words failed me.

And then I saw them, six videos, labeled from “First” to “Sixth.”

Realization struck, and my blood surged wildly, the metallic taste of iron rushing up my throat.

I bit my lips until they bled and clicked on the sixth.

Javon and Cynthia were laughing and talking together.

In front of them, that knife felt as if it slashed straight through me, my heart torn into a thousand jagged pieces, the pain so sharp it curled in my stomach until I bent over the bedside, retching violently.

I didn’t close my eyes the entire night, my tears soaking through my clothes like a relentless storm.

The next morning, Javon, just as always, brought me a “heartfelt” breakfast.

So many varieties, American, Italian, soy milk, fried dough sticks, bread, egg tarts.

Before, I had thought this was his love for me. But now I understood, it was nothing more than indifferent, hollow gestures.

The memory of last night’s videos surged back, and I retched again.

Seeing me unwell, Javon looked stricken.

“Why are you still sick? It’s all my fault, I’ve made you suffer.”

“It’s nothing. I just want to go home.”

Javon’s expression froze for a brief moment.

“You just miscarried, and Mom’s not happy right now. If you go back, you’ll walk right into her anger. Better to wait a while, spare yourself from her temper.”

I didn’t reply, but from his face, I had already guessed enough.

That afternoon, when he wasn’t around, I packed my things and wheeled myself home.

The moment I entered, I saw Cynthia perched on Javon’s lap, the two of them laughing softly as they played with the child.

From the kitchen, Sharon, my mother-in-law, came out with a steaming bowl of vegetable soup, personally feeding it to Cynthia with gentle care.

The three of them, chatting, laughing, smiling together, looked every bit like a real family.

But the instant her gaze landed on me, Sharon’s eyes sharpened like blades.

“You unlucky bitch! You still have the face to come back? My son gives you fine food and comfort every day, and how do you repay us? A wretched, unlucky thing like you deserves to rot outside.”

“You knew you were pregnant, yet you kept leaping about like a fool. How many lives of the Davis family have you ruined already?! Why didn’t you fall to your death, you filthy wretch?!”