I screamed hoarsely, “That's my child! Give her back to me!”

I couldn't get pregnant even after three years of marriage to Timothy, due to my frail body. My baby, the daughter I'd longed for so desperately was now being forcefully taken away from me through surgery.

I struggled desperately to rise, but the doctor pressed down hard on my shoulders and pleaded, “Please calm down, ma'am! You were critically injured in the accident. We had no choice but to terminate your pregnancy.”

He sounded resigned, yet his eyes held no trace of compassion. “We hope you could understand.”

But I almost fainted at that! I tried to break free, but my weakened body couldn't push him away. “Let go of me! I'll sue you all!”

Just as I was losing control, Timothy burst into the room in panic, “Claudine!”

He shoved the doctor aside without hesitation, pulled me into his arms and sobbed uncontrollably. “I'm sorry, Claudine! I'm too late...”

As I leaned against his chest, a sharp, overpowering scent of perfume hit me. It was a fresh floral-fruity fragrance, the kind women often wore.

My heart clenched painfully, my breath catching in that moment. My voice hoarse, I asked, “Why didn't you answer my calls?”

Timothy didn't hear the despair in my tone. And he tried to explain with earnest, “I'm sorry. I was in a meeting with a business partner. I rushed over as soon as I heard about your accident.”

I scoffed.

A meeting? What a pathetic excuse!

“But I clearly...” I wanted to confront him about the scene at Tower of Victory.

However, Timothy gently stroked my head. He said as like a devoted lover, “Don't be sad. We'll have another child.”

A dull ache gripped my chest. But it was because of him that I lost this child!

“Tim, do you truly care about our baby?”

Timmy seemed startled at that, his hand pausing mid-caress. “Claudine, why would you say that?”

Just then, the voice reminder on the medicine alarm in my bag suddenly rang. Panic flashed across Timothy's face.

I lifted my gaze to lock eyes with him. “Who recorded this voice message?”

He clearly avoided my eyes, stammering an explanation. “I left my meds in the conference room the day before yesterday. Someone must have tampered with the voice recording.”

I shoved him away forcefully. I took his medicine box and replayed the suggestive voice message.

[Timmy Honey~ It's time for your medicine~]

The voice was unbearably jarring. I grabbed his collar in fury and demanded in a low voice, “It's Rosalia's, isn't it? When did this start?”

Timothy snatched the medicine box from my hand and shut off the voice alarm. He protested incredulously, “Rosalia is just a childhood friend. Why would you treat an innocent girl like her of doing something bad?”

“You can't make assumptions about others just because of the miscarriage! Snap out of it, Claudine. The voice change really was just an accident!”

Right! Without proof of their affair, nothing I said mattered! So, I shut my mouth, closed my eyes and said nothing more.

After Timothy left, I curled up under the covers, my head splitting with pain. Suddenly, I heard a knock-knock on the door.

Peeking from under the blanket, I saw someone entered the hospital room.

“Heard you were sick. I happened to be at the next town for a soccer game, so I swung by to see you.” Rosalia stopped by my bedside, a smug curve lifting her lips.

Rage surged from my eyes. I threw my head back, glaring at her and hissed, "What a total bull. You're here for Timothy, aren't you?!"

Rosalia raised an eyebrow. She sneered while jabbing her sharp nails into my chest. “Yes. Did you really think Timothy married you out of genuine love? How naive!”

She then pressed her nails deeper into my face. “A stupid woman like you doesn't deserve Timothy's love.”

All I wanted to do was tear that smug grin off her face. I trembled with rage, my eyes bulging with fury. Unfortunately, the slightest movement I made sent sharp pain shooting through my abdominal wound.

“Ugh—”

Seeing me drenched in cold sweat from the pain, Rosalia withdrew her hand and sneered at my sunken belly.

“Oh, right. The baby's gone. Must be heartbreaking for you, huh?” Her tone turned vicious. “As long as you don't leave Timothy, I'll make sure you'll suffer everyday.”

My teeth clenched so hard they ground together. “What do you want?”

She chuckled softly, saying nothing and strode away in her high heels. At the doorway, she suddenly turned and gave me a sinister grin.

“Heaven knows what kind retribution awaits you.”

Before I could react, she had already way past the door.

My retribution? My mind went blank, yet rage still churned in my chest.

I clenched my fists, desperately piecing together the past 25 years.

But nothing came up! I had never done anything that was intentionally mean.

***

Timothy cared for me at the hospital for three days. He even brought me shrimp congee.

“Claudine, come taste your favorite shrimp congee.”

The savory steam filled my nostrils, triggering nausea. I covered my mouth and gagged. Even after three years of marriage, he couldn't remember my shrimp allergy!

Doubt crept into my mind: Why had he married me in the first place?

Was it truly as Rosalia claimed? That I'd have my retribution? What did I ever do?

Seeing my face twisted with resentment, Timothy angrily flung the bowl of congee and shouted, “Claudia! Can't you stop being so stubborn for once?”

I turned to give him a cold, dismissive glance. I said hoarsely, “If you can't stand my stubbornness, then why did you marry me three years ago?”

My question caught him off guard. He stared at me, utterly bewildered.

As if trying to communicate things with a complete new stranger, Timothy frowned and said his complaints, “You're completely unreasonable!”

Afterwards, he stormed out of the hospital room.

***

For the next two days, Timothy never returned to the hospital. Early on the sixth day, his secretary, Danny, handled my discharge paperwork and drove me back to the hotel that Timothy was supposed to stay.

As I weakly propped up in a recliner, I picked up my phone and scrolled through my phone repeatedly.

Timothy’s social media feed showed no trace of Rosalia. He’d always been the model husband, showering me with care. Now I couldn’t tell—had his genuine affection for me been nothing but an illusion?

As I continued to remember my past, my finger hovered over that man's number, my pupils shrink slightly. Memories flooded back instantly—that man's furious gaze was etched into my memory forever.

Was it really worth abandoning everything to marry Timothy?

Suddenly a splitting headache overwhelmed me and I drifted into a hazy sleep. I slept until evening, when the room's lights suddenly snapped on.

Timothy had returned from his meeting to find me asleep on the lounge chair. Without a word of concern, he shed his coat and walked into the bathroom.

I forced myself to sit up. Suddenly, my phone on the bed buzzed.

It was a LetsChat message from Rosalia's younger brother, Marvin.

I tried typing Timothy's birthday and successfully unlocked his LetsChat interface.

Marvin: [I've told the hospital to dispose of the child's body.]

My fingertips trembled. 'The child's body'? My heartbeat skipped a beat as I hurriedly scrolled through the chat history.

Marvin: [After three years of marriage, you really had the heart to kill your own child?]

Timothy: [If Dad hadn't forced me into this marriage, I never would have taken her as my wife.]

Marvin: [The perpetrator and doctor have been taken care of. The police won't bother us.]

Timothy: [Well done. I'd never let the child of a murderer inherit Becker Enterprises.]

[Now that Rosalia is carrying my son, I'll never have to tolerate that hateful woman again...]

So this was the truth behind my miscarriage!

Hatred, regret and resentment surged through me.

A suffocating ache gripped my chest as I dropped onto the bedside, sobbing hoarsely. Suddenly everything went dead silent around me.

Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to calm down. I never imagined Timothy had already fathered a child with Rosalia—and that he’d married me only because he was simply afraid to deny his father’s command.

All the sweet romance I'd ever felt vanished in an instant, replaced by fear and despair. A fierce will to survive drove me to dial a number I’d sworn never to touch again.

The phone rang for what felt like an eternity before an aged voice answered. “My dear, have you finally learned to regret?”

My throat tightened, my nose stung. " I can come back, but you must promise to help me destroy everything Timothy and Rosalia have built."

Dad chuckled softly. “Good. That's my girl. When should I come pick you up?”

I took a deep breath, my voice cold as ice, “In three days. I need to clean up everything here first. Also, look into something for me.”

My dad seemed startled, “What is it?"

“I want to know why Timothy is convinced you and Mom are murderers.”

For a moment, my dad fell silent. He replied solemnly, “Claudine, I can only warn you to stay away from Timothy and your mother-in-law Carola.”

With that, dad hung up the phone. It only mande my suspicions deepened.

While Timothy was showering, I called my lawyer again. “I want to divorce Timothy Becker. Prepare all the paperwork.”

He replied promptly, “Understood, Young Miss. I'll deliver all documents personally tomorrow evening.”

***

That night in the hotel bed, Timothy showed no intimacy. Truly, it felt as if our bond had suddenly stopped overnight.

Just as I was drifting off, he suddenly wrapped his arms around my waist. He spoke with his usual passion and softness, “Once we get back, I'll make it up to you.”

A wave of curiosity washed over me. All this time, what had been his true feelings as we played this charade?

My throat felt dry as I forced out a hoarse whisper, “Timothy, did you ever truly love me?”

He didn't answer. His warm, steady breath brushed my ear, mingled with the soft hum of his snoring. That night, I couldn't sleep at all. I laid stiffly in his arms until dawn.

***

We returned home the next day at noon. Timothy had business at his company and went straight from the airport to the office.

When I opened the door, I froze instantly. Rosalia was sitting seductively on the sofa, eating a fruit platter with an expression of pure enjoyment.

She deliberately wore a tight mermaid dress, revealing her slightly rounded baby bump. My mother-in-law Carola was sitting beside her, frowning as she looked around the room.

My back stiffened, remembering my dad's warning from yesterday. Suddenly I felt anxious.

Rosalia turned her head and saw me. She smiled so broadly and with carefree, “Ms. Claudine! You’re back?”

Carola immediately stood up, her face darkening. “You come back without so much as a word? I truly don't understand why Timothy married such an ill-mannered girl like you!”

Anger surged within me, but I bit my lip hard. Before I could speak, a sharp pain shot across my face.

Carola had strode over and slapped my face hard. “Three years of marriage and you can't even lay an egg!” she snarled

Her gaze swept over my flat stomach, followed by a cold snort. “You've picked up those sleazy tricks from those telenovelas, haven't you? You dared to sneak off to the hospital for an abortion?”

My face burned with pain as I covered it, my vision blurring. Yet, fury blazed in my eyes as I glared at her sharp, cruel face. I shout out, “Hey, who's the sleazy one here? You or your son?”

My gaze snapped to Rosalia on the sofa, my teeth grinding. “While your son was kissing someone on some random street in Victory Capital, I got into a car accident and had my baby taken away from me!”

I emphasized, “You should ask Tim why he did this to me!”