The next moment, a deliberately suppressed gasp came from beside me.

“Ah!”

The mistress slightly furrowed her brows, instinctively holding her waist, her expression fragile and innocent.

Almost simultaneously, he had already turned around.

His movements were swift, without the slightest hesitation. One arm steadied her shoulder, and his other hand gently rested on her hand, asking in a low voice, “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”

The two of them stood very close.

So close that anyone who looked at them would think they were a family.

I stood there, like an intruder, a stranger who had wandered in.

If he had paid a little more attention, even just glanced at the signs around, he would have realized that the place we met was the gynecology clinic.

But he didn’t.

His attention was entirely on her.

On her slightly pale face, on her soft voice as she responded, and on the way she leaned into him.

And I, I was nothing more than the ignored background.

I suddenly felt a bit ironic.

I was standing here, I had said nothing, and I was the one who was his wife.

But in this moment, there was no place for me in his world.

When I entered the door, the smell hit me immediately.

The lights were on in the living room.

I stood in the entrance, and at a glance, I saw Chase holding a bowl of soup, patiently feeding Emma spoon by spoon.

Felix sat beside them, behaving unusually well.

“Auntie, you’re so gentle. Can you be my mom?”

In that instant, it felt like I had been shoved into an ice cellar.

How could these words come from my own son?

Emma smiled gently and gracefully, reaching out to rub Felix's hair. “Of course, as long as your dad agrees.”

My heart jerked painfully.

I walked into the living room with a blank expression.

“It’s so late. Where have you been?”

Chase looked up, and seeing my pale face, he was clearly taken aback. His tone softened involuntarily. “What happened to your forehead?”

I didn’t answer.

I had just come from the hospital and stumbled at the door. What was the point of saying anything?

Emma immediately raised her voice in a playful tone, “You’re back, Joyce! Just in time, I brought you some gifts. Come look.”

Chase cleared his throat, his expression a bit awkward. “Joyce, Shiyu is pregnant and needs to rest. For now, she’ll stay here. You should be more mindful. She’s lactose intolerant, can’t eat cold food, needs to sleep until 10 AM for her beauty rest, and the fruits need to be juiced…”

Each word felt like a knife, stabbing deeper into my heart, one after another.

I couldn’t believe it and let out a cold laugh. “What, you want me to take care of her?”

“Be good, Joyce. Everything in the past is behind us, don’t dwell on it,” he paused for a moment, then spoke with casual certainty, “You’ve worked as a maid in the Chase family, so I trust you to handle these things.”

He didn’t finish the sentence.

Felix, standing beside us, innocently added, “Yeah, mom, I like Aunt Lu too.”

I lowered my head and saw on the side of the dining table a list of 267 “care instructions for the young lady.”

On the floor were a few luxury shopping bags haphazardly discarded. A Chanel handbag with worn-out corners, an Hermes keychain from a gift package, and Dior high heels that were clearly used.

The so-called “gifts” were nothing but a pile of discarded junk she had thrown away.

Suddenly, I remembered many years ago.

Chase’s good friend had once called me “the maid who serves,” and he immediately turned hostile, halting a billion-dollar project that night.

He said, “Joyce is my wife. Whoever dares to belittle her is slapping me, Chase, in the face.”

But now, he had slapped his own face.

He had made me serve the enemy as a personal maid.

It turned out that deep love and vows could be so easily shattered.

I would never believe again.

The wetness in my eyes was tightly suppressed.

In the final thirty days, I had to endure.

But I didn’t expect that the first night Emma stayed over, she would start causing trouble.

She rushed barefoot into the master bedroom while Chase had just finished his shower.

“Chase, I can’t sleep alone,” she said in a soft, delicate voice, immediately crawling into his bare arms. “The guest room mattress is too hard, I’m scared… Will you sleep with me?”

Chase furrowed his brow.

I knew, he felt pity.

So much so that he completely ignored me standing in the room.

He scooped Emma up onto his lap, holding her comfortingly, his gaze shifting to the left side of the double bed. “Joyce, Shiyu’s never had a hard life… How about you go sleep in another room for now?”

In that moment, I clearly saw the hint of provocation flash across Emma’s face.

I gave a sarcastic smile, grabbed the pillow, and got off the bed.

“Since Miss Lu likes it, I’ll let you have this bed.”

Not just this bed.

This master bedroom, this man.

I didn’t want any of it.

In the following days, with Chase accompanying her every night, Emma quickly regained her energy and even started inviting her friends over for afternoon tea.

“Shiyu, Chase must still have feelings for you,” someone laughed, “During that year you were unconscious, he flew to the UK all the time, even made a vow that if you woke up, he would divorce for you.”

I happened to hear this while passing by.

My heart felt as if it were being violently ripped open.

When Chase wasn’t around, Emma couldn’t even be bothered to pretend.

“Joyce, your coffee tastes like dishwater. It’s disgusting to look at.”

I reached out to take the coffee away, but my wrist was suddenly twisted.

“What’s your attitude? You make coffee for Shiyu like this, and you still dare to act like this?” one of her friends scolded harshly, “Do you want to kneel and apologize?”

The next second, my scalp burned with pain.

A whole cup of boiling coffee was poured over my head.

“Stop!”

Chase’s furious shout exploded at the door.

He rushed over and shielded me behind him.

“Who allowed you to bully her?”

Before he even finished speaking, Emma already had tears in her eyes, holding her stomach and trembling as she spoke. “Chase, it’s not like that… She put dairy in my coffee, my stomach hurts so much.”

Chase froze in his movements.

He looked at me, and his gaze instantly turned cold.

“Joyce, I told you she’s lactose intolerant, didn’t I?”

How ridiculous.

From protecting me to pushing me aside, all with a single lie.

“I didn’t.” My voice trembled. “She’s faking it.”

But my explanation was completely drowned out by her superb acting and the agreement of others.

Chase, furious, smashed the coffee cup on the table, then turned and picked Emma up in a horizontal carry. “Qin Chaolu, you stay at home and reflect on this!”

Emma wasn’t satisfied and cried out with tears streaming down her face. “I won’t go to the hospital… No one has ever treated me like this, I can’t take it…”

Chase finally coldly ordered the bodyguards, “Take my wife to the backyard and lock her up.”

At that moment, I felt a chill all over my body.

The two-square-meter enclosed darkroom was a punishment reserved for bodyguards who made principle mistakes.

Insects and ants would be released in batches.

I struggled desperately. “No… I don’t want to go!”

But the figure carrying Emma never looked back.

A full twenty-four hours.

I curled up in the corner of the darkroom, letting the insects and ants crawl over my skin. The fiery pain and itching made me nearly collapse.

I screamed until I lost my voice.

And outside the door, the bodyguards Chase had arranged remained unmoved.

A sudden, strange sensation spread from deep within her body.

She froze for a moment, feeling a tightness in her lower abdomen, as though something had gripped it forcefully. Then came the unmistakable warmth and wetness.

She looked down and saw the blood trailing down her legs.

In that moment, her mind went blank. The sounds around her seemed to mute, and the world was left with only the frantic beating of her heart. Instinctively, she reached out to steady herself against the wall, but she lacked the strength to remain standing.

Before her consciousness faded, the last thought that flashed through her mind was how quickly loss could arrive.

When she opened her eyes again, the harsh white light blinded her.

The smell of disinfectant reminded her that she was in a hospital. The ceiling felt cold, devoid of any warmth. Drops of water from the IV drip fell steadily, rhythmically, almost cruelly.

Her hand subconsciously rested on her lower abdomen.

It was unnaturally flat.

No pain, no response, as though it had never carried a life.

The doctor’s voice sounded low and steady beside her, controlled, but each word felt like a dull knife, cutting away at her heart inch by inch.

She didn’t cry.

She just stared at the blank ceiling, suddenly feeling like she had been hollowed out.

The bodyguard stood to the side. She knew it was the bodyguard who had saved her.

“Don’t tell Chase.”

She whispered the order.

The bodyguard didn’t ask further, simply nodded in silence.

On the day of the divorce registration, they appeared together as a family of three.

Joyce was holding Chase’s arm, her body almost pressed against his side, their posture natural and intimate.

Felix stood beside her, his small body deliberately straightened, like two loyal bodyguards, firmly protecting the “princess” in between them.

The moment they saw me, both father and son visibly froze for a moment.

That brief hesitation quickly disappeared, and they resumed their tacit, harmonious demeanor.

I had returned to using the expensive cosmetics and skincare products from before, wearing a hand-tailored dress.

In the mirror, I had become the exquisite, sharp, and unignorable woman from the Beijing elite circle again.

It was a far cry from the plain-faced woman in home clothes, busy in the kitchen, forgetting to eat.

My expression was calm as I subtly lifted my chin, signaling them to enter.

But the next moment, Felix suddenly raised his hand, blocking Joyce from moving forward.

His tone was filled with clear defensiveness and hostility.

“Don’t hurt Aunt Joyce. She hasn’t done anything wrong.”

In that instant, I suddenly realized.

In his heart, the “bad guy” had always been me.

In contrast, Joyce, protected between two men, seemed poised and composed.

She gently spoke, her voice soft and perfectly measured.

“Actually... I owe you an apology. My relationship with Dongting started before you two were married.”

This matter, I was not completely unaware of.

He would occasionally mention it when drunk.

Those years, he often invited friends over for dinner.

To entertain them, I would always prepare a full table of dishes, running back and forth, barely remembering when I would eat myself.

That’s how I went from a Beijing socialite who had never lifted a finger to a housewife who could recite a thousand recipes.

But he hardly ever mentioned my efforts.

To him, those were just the things a wife should do.

But when it came to her, he would drink glass after glass, ignoring everyone who tried to stop him.

That was one of the rare moments he lost control as a teacher.

What he repeatedly expressed was bitterness and regret.

His youthful first love had become an indelible mark on his heart, something he could never let go.