The day I took my pregnancy test, I couldn’t contain my excitement. I wanted to surprise James with the news that we’d soon be parents. I quietly headed to his office, imagining his happiness when he found out. But as I pushed open his office door, I froze. There he was, holding and kissing his secretary, a woman I didn’t know but would never forget.

Noticing me standing there, the secretary smirked and whispered just loud enough for me to hear, “Aren’t you afraid the wife at home will get jealous?”

James snickered, pulling her closer, his voice dripping with arrogance. “She? Jealous?” he sneered. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re the only one who deserves the title of ‘wife.’ She’s just a pitiful stray I keep around, nothing more than a pet.”

The words struck me like a physical blow. Holding back the tidal wave of pain, I left his office silently, feeling as though my heart was in pieces. When I got home, I started packing, determined to leave and go far away.

——

That night, as I was folding my clothes into a suitcase, James finally came home. He noticed what I was doing and, without a word, yanked an old jacket from my hands, tossing it into the trash with utter disdain.

“I told you to get rid of this junk ages ago,” he spat. “Just seeing it here disgusts me.”

Earlier, he’d spoken of me as nothing more than a “pet,” and now, he treated the few things I cherished like trash. My chest ached, my face turned pale, but I fought to keep my expression calm. He didn’t even look at me as he tossed a small, lavishly wrapped box onto the bed.

“It’s your birthday, isn’t it?” His tone was almost mocking. “I had a custom piece made. Do me a favor and start dressing like you belong here. I can’t have my wife looking like a disgrace.”

I opened the box and found a pair of gemstone-studded earrings. They were exquisite, yet cold and they felt like they belonged to a stranger. I placed the box gently on the table, my voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you, but there’s no need. My birthday already passed.”

James glanced at the clock, his patience fraying. “It’s barely five minutes past midnight!” he snapped, irritation coloring his words. “What’s wrong with you, Nadine? Are you just trying to start a fight?”

Taking a deep breath, I tried to explain as calmly as I could, “I’m not trying to pick a fight.”

Ignoring his scornful gaze, I crouched down to retrieve the clothes he’d thrown aside. “These clothes are precious to me. The headmistress of my orphanage gave them to me when I left. They’re clean, not garbage.”

As I spoke, memories flooded my mind—the day we met, me in these clothes, him looking at me like I was his whole world. Seven years ago, when I left the orphanage and moved to this big city to study, I met James. I was working part-time in a restaurant when he first saw me and from that moment, he pursued me relentlessly. I was an orphan, unaccustomed to affection and I fell for him so quickly, so completely.

Eventually, I learned that he was the heir to the Hunter Corporation. He came from a life I’d never even dreamed of, surrounded by wealth and luxury and women constantly vying for his attention. But when he brought me home, he assured me that he’d left that life behind. He’d chosen me and I foolishly believed I was his forever.

So, on my birthday, when the doctor told me I was pregnant, I couldn’t wait to share the news. I rushed to his office, eager to tell him, only to find... that.

“Rejecting my gift for this old junk? And you say you’re not trying to start something?” James scoffed, his eyes cold as he watched me fold the clothes. His smirk grew crueler. “Nadine, have I given you too much freedom lately?”

He grabbed my arm with one swift, unfeeling motion, pulling me so roughly that I stumbled, slamming into the corner of the table. Pain tore through my abdomen and my heart raced with terror as I cradled my stomach, instinctively shielding the tiny life inside me. My voice trembled as I whispered, “I don’t have my ears pierced... I can’t wear earrings.”

James’ face twisted in irritation. He released me, his eyes flashing as he studied my reaction. For a brief second, he looked almost taken aback. I forced myself to ignore the pain, stepping away from him as calmly as I could.

He glanced at my stomach with barely concealed distaste. “Maybe it wouldn’t hurt you to start working out more. You’ve let yourself go, Nadine. I don’t want to see you outshined by other women.”

I bit my lip, fighting the sting of his words, but he turned his back on me without waiting for a reply, shutting the bedroom door with a slam. Left alone, I pressed my hand against my abdomen, whispering through silent tears, “I’m so sorry, little one. Your father has changed and now... I can’t have you.”

As the house fell silent, my mind drifted back to the scene in his office. Seven years of love, seven years of misplaced trust. When he finally quieted down, I walked towards the bedroom, hoping for some final words, some closure.

But I stopped short. Through the door, I heard James’ voice, light and almost gleeful as he murmured into the phone, “Don’t worry about the earrings. She can throw them away if she likes. When I marry you, I’ll buy you jewelry a hundred times better.”

My heart shattered for the final time. I picked up my suitcase and looked around, knowing this was goodbye. And with my heart in pieces, I left the house that held all our memories, stepping into the night alone.

Five days had passed since I walked out of James’s life, carrying only the essentials and the shattered pieces of my heart. On the fifth day, my phone rang. His name appeared on the screen, stirring a rush of emotions within me. I wondered if he would ask why I had been gone so long, if he’d finally noticed I wasn’t there.

But his tone was cool, almost indifferent. “Hey, where did you put the silk tie I bought last month?”

I closed my eyes, clenching the phone, but I still managed to tell him exactly where he’d left it, word for word.

Once he found it, he continued without so much as a pause, “Don’t stay wherever you are. Book the earliest flight back and don’t forget to attend the charity banquet tonight.”

I couldn’t stop the humorless laugh that slipped out, cold and sharp. After disappearing for five days, he assumed I was merely “traveling.” How blind I’d been to waste my youth on a man like this, a man who didn’t even notice his wife had left.

Sitting on the steps outside the maternity clinic, I looked down at the appointment slip in my hand—an abortion scheduled for today. My fingers trembled as I replied, “I won’t be back. Why don’t you ask Sandra to be your date?”

Sandra Wilson. His secretary and the daughter of a wealthy family. She’d attached herself to him after he’d “heroically” saved her from a minor car accident, worming her way into his life, from a lowly assistant to his personal secretary and finally... into his bed. It was old gossip at his office and yet I had chosen to stay blind, to believe he loved only me. Until that day in his office shattered everything.

Silence stretched between us for a moment before James’s voice filled with anger. “Nadine, what’s gotten into you? Sandra is my secretary, not some slave for you to boss around. When did you become so bitter? It’s just a simple matter; can’t you just cooperate with me?”

The way he spoke her name, so soft and gentle, a stark contrast to the way he spat out mine—it cut deeply. I bit down on my lip, swallowing the tears that threatened to spill. The nurse’s voice called my number and, more out of a desire to escape the phone call than anything else, I ended the call without another word.

It had been his routine for years: if he wanted me to bend to his will, he’d needle at my insecurities, remind me of my past, an orphan with no family to protect me. He’d keep at it, relentless, until I caved, breaking down in helpless tears and finally... I would submit.

But this time, he couldn’t break me. After five missed calls, he gave up. As I lay on the cold operating table, staring at the sterile instruments above me, a wave of nausea hit. I felt a faint, almost imperceptible movement from within—our baby, so fragile and vulnerable. It felt like they were pleading with me, asking me to protect them.

I squeezed my eyes shut, memories of James's betrayal flashing before me, but I couldn’t go through with it. I sat up, told the doctor I couldn’t go through with it and left, my decision final. After gathering myself, I called James, ready to tell him everything, hoping that maybe—just maybe—he would finally listen.

But he barely let me speak before he launched into a tirade. “You vindictive woman! Who gave you the right to harass Sandra?”

I was stunned, completely lost. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, don’t play innocent with me! You refused to come to the banquet and then you go behind my back, threaten Sandra not to go and even assaulted her!”

I could hear the pure venom in his voice as he sneered, “Sandra never did anything to you. After seven years, Nadine, I’m finally seeing who you truly are—a vile, spiteful woman.”

The accusation left me numb. He didn’t give me a chance to explain, dismissing every word I tried to say. After hanging up, I stumbled out of the clinic, barely noticing the rain that had started to fall. Cold drops mixed with my tears, blurring my vision.

Through the haze, I noticed a sleek black car pull up at the curb—a Maybach. I recognized it immediately and froze. As if in a daze, I watched as James got out and walked toward me, his face contorted with anger. Before I could say anything, he raised his hand and slapped me, the sting searing across my cheek.

“How dare you pretend to be traveling?” he spat, fury evident in every word.

I barely felt the physical pain, though. My mind was spinning as I asked, horrified, “Did you... did you put a tracker on me?”

His silence was my answer. He grabbed my arm, dragging me toward the car without another word. So much for protecting Sandra’s “freedom”—he thought nothing of invading mine. And yet, during the entire five days I was gone, he hadn’t even checked the tracker. Not once. Only when he believed I’d caused trouble for Sandra did he bother to look.

How twisted, how laughably cruel.

When we returned to the house, he locked me in the dark, empty storage room on the second floor, saying he wouldn’t let me out until I “apologized willingly” to Sandra.

Left alone in the darkness, I felt waves of nausea and trembling hit me again. The silence was broken by the sound of footsteps outside the door and I recognized Sandra’s shrill, mocking laughter.

“Oh, James,” she purred, her voice almost giddy, “why did you have to lock her up here? Couldn’t we just ignore her?”

“After all,” he replied softly, his voice barely a murmur but dripping with contempt, “she’s nothing more than a stray, a nuisance.”

Outside the door, they exchanged murmurs of affection, their voices intertwining. My stomach twisted painfully as I sank against the wall, gripping my knees to my chest. It felt as though they were tearing me apart from the inside, bit by bit.

“Do you have a cat, James?” Sandra giggled, just outside the door. “I keep hearing scratching and rattling.”

Without missing a beat, he replied, “No cat. Probably just a filthy rat causing trouble.”

Then, in a quieter voice, he said, “Sandra, the dinner’s about to start. Let’s head out.”

I thought they were finally gone when a sudden flood of light hit my face. I shielded my eyes and looked up to find Sandra standing over me, a satisfied smirk on her face.

“Well, well, Nadine,” she purred, “so this is where you’ve been hiding.”

Sandra held a twisted kind of power over me. She had tracked down the orphanage director, the woman who’d raised me and blackmailed her. It was Sandra’s way of ensuring I couldn’t tell James the truth—that I’d never laid a hand on her.

She was shrewd and she knew that, as long as I remained silent under the weight of these false accusations, James would only grow to resent me more.

And she was right.

Through the muffled chatter of the housemaids outside my locked storage room, I learned that James had introduced Sandra as his “girlfriend” at the dinner party, erasing any mention of me, his wife. As the servants gossiped, I overheard that he had even gone so far as to cut off my food and water—all in the name of Sandra’s “honor.”

Three days I had been locked in this cold, cramped space. My phone was gone, tossed out by James and my luggage had been confiscated. When he found my visa and flight ticket, scheduled for a week later, his fury intensified. He stormed in, opening the door with a glare that could freeze fire.

“You were planning to run, huh?” His voice was sharp with accusation. “After everything you’ve done, Nadine, you thought you could just disappear?”

Weak from hunger, I could barely register his words, the room spinning around me in blurred shadows. It took me a moment to respond, but he took my silence as defiance, his gaze growing colder.

He sneered, “Still playing the victim? Fine, you’re going to serve Sandra until she forgives you.”

I raised my head slowly, disbelief clouding my vision. The man before me, once my world, was now a stranger, as indifferent as a passing shadow. The baby kicked gently, as if sensing my pain and I felt tears prickling my eyes. Swallowing them back, I forced myself to say, barely a whisper, “I can’t… I’m too—”

But James didn’t give me a chance to finish. He dragged me out of the storage room and pushed me toward Sandra. She greeted him with a satisfied smile, pleased with the spectacle.

With a calculated sweetness, Sandra leaned closer, her polished nails glinting in the light. “Nadine, could you be a dear and help me change my shoes?” She lifted one foot, wiggling her toes near my face. “James, look, she’s hardly moving. She looks at me like I’m her enemy.”

James smirked, dismissing me with a glance. “She’s just putting on an act. Ignore her.”

My legs trembled with each step and every breath was a battle against the hunger and exhaustion weighing me down. James’s sneer only made the ache in my chest deeper, colder. His words felt like shards of ice, reminding me of how far he had drifted from me.

Sandra tilted her head, smiling innocently. “Oh, James, do you see how she looks at me? Like she wants to bite my head off!”

With every new complaint, James’s gaze darkened, his disdain for me growing more evident. Sandra kept me busy for over half an hour, ordering me to search for a nonexistent document she claimed to have misplaced somewhere in the villa. My feet stumbled up and down the stairs, my body running on pure willpower as I searched every room, my energy draining with each step.

Finally, after what felt like hours, she waved a hand. “Oh, I must have remembered wrong,” she sighed, feigning sympathy. “Sorry, Nadine. I hope you didn’t tire yourself too much.”

A faint flicker of relief washed over me and I turned, desperate for the kitchen, desperate for a moment to gather myself. But the relief was short-lived. In the next second, James’s hand clamped down on my shoulder, his grip painfully tight.

“I told you, Nadine,” he said coldly. “You’re going to apologize to Sandra. And I mean on your knees.”

I stared up at him, shock and anger mingling in my chest. “I didn’t do anything wrong! Why should I—”

The memory of Sandra’s blackmail stopped me mid-sentence. Her threats against the orphanage director echoed in my mind, silencing my protest. James’s grip tightened and I felt his contempt pressing down on me, suffocating me.

I was caught, torn between loyalty and despair. On one side was the orphanage director, who had raised me like her own; on the other was this false accusation that held me captive. My fists clenched, my nails biting into my palms. Anger and helplessness churned within me, but I could only kneel, defeated.

A bitter smile twisted my lips as I looked up at him. “Fine… I was wrong.”

The words tasted like poison, but as I tried to force them out, a sharp, nauseating pain gripped me. My body convulsed and I felt a stabbing ache in my lower abdomen. The world blurred and just before everything faded to black, I saw the horrified look in James’s eyes.

When I finally woke, I was in a bed, surrounded by the sterile, white light of a doctor’s examination room. A young doctor hovered nearby, her face drawn with concern. She glanced toward James, who stood beside her, visibly agitated.

“What’s wrong with her?” he demanded, his voice a mixture of confusion and worry.

The doctor hesitated before answering, her voice heavy. “Mr. Graham… she… she’s extremely weak, both from physical strain and the severe distress she’s been under. I’m afraid… she’s had a miscarriage.”