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?!”

“I’m telling you, from today on, the only daughter-in-law I recognize is Cynthia. Get out right now, you’re dirtying my family’s home!”

Following Sharon’s gaze, Cynthia looked over, her eyes gleaming with pride.

“Godmother, don’t say that. Otherwise, if Addison gets jealous and spreads rumors outside that I’m seducing Javon, that wouldn’t be good.”

“I’d like to see her dare!”

I knew Sharon had never liked me. She thought I was too capable, too difficult to control, and that once married, I would hold Javon under my thumb.

Cynthia, on the other hand, was gentle, sweet-tongued, and devoted herself wholly to Javon. She had always been the one my mother-in-law wished for as his wife.

Only later, after Cynthia married into money and I willingly gave up my career to return to the family, did she reluctantly accept me.

All these years, I had given the family no child, and her dissatisfaction with me had already grown to its peak.

Now Cynthia had come back, holding a son for Javon, and my mother-in-law cast off all pretense, pouring her pent-up resentment onto me.

She had no idea that all seven of my miscarriages were nothing but schemes by her own son.

Each life, each child she dreamed of as her grandchild, had been destroyed by the woman she adored, Cynthia.

Javon, who once played the mediator, now held only the child Cynthia gave him, as though the rest of the world no longer existed.

Leaning into his chest, Cynthia pouted sweetly.

“Javon, all your love is for our son. I feel completely left out. If this continues, I’ll be truly upset.”

Javon smiled tenderly, pinching her cheek with doting affection.

“I knew you’d sulk. Look over there, see what that is?”

I followed her gaze, and the words carved across the page burned into my eyes: Equity Transfer Agreement.

“Wow! Javon, you really do spoil me.”

She kissed the corner of his lips, her glance cutting toward me with triumphant arrogance.

I curved my lips into a cold smile.

Celebrate while you can.

Soon enough, she and her Javon would be the ones on their knees.

“But won’t Addison be angry that you’ve done this? After all, you’re giving away everything you own.”

Javon froze, as if only then realizing I was standing there. He quickly blurted out, “Addison, don’t misunderstand. Mom and I only agreed to recognize Cynthia’s child as my godson; that’s why I transferred the shares to her.”

“This was a forced choice. After all, your uterus has already decayed, and you can’t bear children. The family cannot be without an heir, so I could only place all my hopes on Jonathan. You understand me, right?”

A sharp buzz filled my ears. I stared at Javon in disbelief.

“What’s his name?”

He stiffened, then lowered his head, guilt written all over his face, unable to meet my gaze.

Jonathan. That was the name Javon and I had chosen together for our child, a name that carried the meaning of wholeness and fulfillment. For eight long years, I had yearned for that child.

Countless nights, I had wept, whispering Jonathan’s name into the dark, praying that my lost child would somehow return to me.

And now, he had given that sacred name to Cynthia’s child.

How could he… be this cruel?

“His name is Jonathan. Javon personally chose it, symbolizing completeness and fulfillment,” Cynthia replied softly, her face painted with false innocence.

I could no longer endure it.

They could torment me, they could wound me, but how could they trample on a mother’s love for her child?

Driven to madness, I lunged at Cynthia, wishing only to perish together with her.

But paralyzed from the waist down, all my strength ended with me rolling helplessly off the wheelchair.

Sharon’s face twisted with disgust.

“You useless thing. Lying on the floor like that, isn’t it shameful enough already? If I were you, I’d throw myself into the river this instant. Our family must be cursed to end up with a bitch like you. You’re dragging our lives shorter by the day!”

Javon wanted to help me up, but Cynthia suddenly clutched her chest with a pained frown.

“Javon, my breasts are engorged; it hurts so much.”

Without hesitation, Javon scooped her into his arms. “I’ll take you to rest.”

They disappeared into the room, and my mother-in-law picked up the sleeping child, glaring coldly at me.

“Since you’ve come back, why aren’t you cooking? Are you waiting for this old woman to feed you herself?”

I struggled to rise, my nails digging deep into my palm.

Then enjoy this dinner well. After tonight, I want every single one of you on your knees, begging for forgiveness.

When I finished cooking, I looked around the living room, but neither Javon nor Cynthia was there.

As I reached our bedroom, I froze, my whole body’s blood turning to ice in an instant.

The sounds from inside were unbearable.

Through the crack of the door, I saw Cynthia half-naked, perched on Javon’s lap.

“Javon, isn’t it thrilling? Addison is just outside.”

“You’re wicked, still trying to tempt me at a time like this.”

The sounds inside grew more heated.

I swallowed back the nausea and opened my phone to record.

The two of them were so lost in each other that neither noticed me.

That evening at dinner, Cynthia put on an act so unlike her, filling my bowl again and again.

“Addison, we were all resting, yet you suffered a miscarriage and still worked so hard to cook. It must be exhausting. Eat more.”

After the meal, my stomach twisted with nausea. I pushed my wheelchair into the courtyard.

I did not know how long I sat there before a glass bottle labeled Seventh Time shattered before me.

She laughed cruelly. “Addison, did you enjoy dinner? Do you know what was in it?”

Something inside my head snapped. Realization struck, and I stared at her in disbelief.

“Look at you now, like a dog with broken legs. Just laying eyes on you disgusts me. If I were in your place, I would’ve taken my own life long ago. What face do you even have left to keep living?”

“You’ll never measure up to me. So what if you became Javon’s wife? His heart still belongs to me, so much that he killed your seven children for my sake.”

“Honestly, I had other experimental options, but he feared my data would be compromised. So he chose your womb instead, sacrificing your babies for me.”

My body trembled violently, and I charged my wheelchair at her like a madwoman. But Cynthia struck herself twice and then threw herself into the flower bed.

“Ah!”

The very next moment, my wheelchair was shoved over.

Javon’s eyes burned red with fury as he fixed me with a venomous glare.

“Addison, how could you be so vicious!”

Tears streamed down Cynthia’s cheeks as she wailed miserably.

“I only wanted to comfort her when I saw her unhappy. But the moment I mentioned children, she accused me of showing off, then slapped me and pushed me into the thorns.”

Javon’s face darkened.

“You can’t bear children yourself, and now you’re jealous of Cynthia? I never thought you were this kind of person!”

I glared at him with all the strength left in me.

“My children were all killed by you! Javon, how much longer do you plan to deceive me?”

His expression shifted, but instead of answering, he simply lifted Cynthia into his arms and walked away.

The only words he left behind were cold and cutting. “You’re completely unreasonable!”

As I watched their backs fading together, my heart emptied of its final trace of tenderness.

The next morning, I went to a lawyer and had the divorce agreement drafted.

I sent a USB containing the backup of Javon’s work phone and the recorded video to the court, filing charges against Javon and Cynthia for bigamy and intentional homicide.

Once everything was finished, I headed straight for the airport.

On the way, my phone buzzed with a message from Javon. [If you come to the hospital now and apologize to Cynthia, I can still forgive you.]

I sneered as I shut off the phone.

I didn’t need his forgiveness; I only wanted him crushed beneath my revenge.

When I didn’t respond to his messages, Javon tried calling, but the line was reported as invalid. A flicker of unease touched him, and just as he was about to send someone home to check, his assistant rushed in, breathless.

“President Davis, something happens!”