When I found out—again—that the baby in my wife's belly belonged to her and her lover, I didn't lose my mind like before.

I didn't threaten her. Didn't trick her into terminating.

This time, I quietly helped her through the pregnancy. Made sure she delivered safely.

And just like that, I became the punchline of high society. A thousand gossip rags feasted on my humiliation.

Every cheating trophy wife dreamed of finding a husband as generous as me.

Every mistress in our circles burned incense, praying she'd seduce someone with a wife like mine.

And the other men who'd married into wealthy families? They looked at me like I was a disgrace to our kind.

Ten months passed. She gave birth without complications.

When Greta Jenner emerged from the delivery room, she kissed the back of my hand—tender as always.

"Thanks to you taking such good care of me, Noel's baby came out healthy and beautiful."

She smiled. "Don't worry. He only wants to be a father. He won't threaten your position as the Jenner family's son-in-law. You're still the one I love most."

Everyone assumed I'd loved Greta so completely, so pathetically, that when I couldn't beat the other man, I simply joined them.

But I was the only one who knew the truth.

This baby existed because Grandma Evelyn Jenner had called in a life-debt—the one I owed her from years ago—and ordered me to protect it.

The Jenner family's firstborn son had arrived.

Which meant the divorce agreement she'd promised me should finally take effect.

1.

The night before Greta went into labor, they'd pumped me full of sedatives and bone-weakening drugs—insurance against me harming her or the child.

When the drugs wore off and I opened my eyes, she was cradling the baby, face glowing with joy.

"Honey, Grandma already picked a name for our son. Just sign here and we can register the birth."

She handed me the certificate.

The moment I saw the name—John Swanson—the fog in my brain burned away.

John.

John.

That was the name I'd chosen for my own unborn son. A name that meant remember your original heart. It carried all my hopes for him, all my dreams for our love.

It was also the name recorded in the Jenner family genealogy—reserved for firstborn sons for thirteen generations.

Years ago, I'd taken a knife meant for Greta when kidnappers had her. The wound damaged something vital. After that, I couldn't... perform the way I used to.

Our first child—conceived through IVF—had made it to seven months.

Then one night, Greta decided to "help" Noel Swanson when he'd been drugged with an aphrodisiac. She spent the night with him. The hemorrhaging that followed forced an emergency termination.

That baby had already formed. A boy.

I'd planned to give him a proper memorial, a place in the ancestral tomb.

But the fortune teller said a child lost before full term at an inauspicious time needed to wait. The timing wasn't right.

So I waited. Over a year.

Throughout this pregnancy, Greta had whispered in my ear countless times that she wanted to give John's name to this bastard child.

I never agreed.

But now, looking at the hopeful light in her eyes, all I could think about was how disgusted I was by her tears back then. How fake they must have been.

I knew Grandma Evelyn would never have chosen this name.

This was Noel's doing. He loved taking everything that was mine, and he'd planted the idea in Greta's ear.

The divorce was already set in stone. The child could keep the surname of his heartless mother—I didn't care anymore.

"Whatever. Call him what you want."

"I only have one condition. Don't list me as the father. My real son's spirit wouldn't be happy."

Greta paused. A flicker of guilt crossed her eyes.

"Bob Swanson, don't worry. I'm only using the fact that Noel shares half your bloodline. He and I never—"

She didn't finish.

A crash echoed from outside the door.

"You animal! Who gave you permission to be here?!"

Noel Swanson lay crumpled on the floor, eyes red-rimmed.

"I just wanted to see the baby."

Grandma Evelyn's cane struck him again and again.

"Get out!"

In that instant, Greta became a startled bird. She forgot she'd just given birth—forgot her own body—and shoved the baby into my arms before bolting out the door.

When she moved, I saw them: hundreds of needle marks dotting both her arms, each one the width of a child's finger. Scattered among them were self-inflicted wounds, now splitting open under the pressure.

Yet she walked away as if I were invisible.

The way she'd thrown herself under Grandma's cane without hesitation, shielding Noel behind her—it made every word of comfort she'd offered me moments ago feel like a cruel joke.

"Grandma! It was my idea, and I did it for the family! Don't hurt innocent people!"

Evelyn froze, her gaze instinctively drifting toward me.

When she saw the white bandages on my arm soaking through with fresh blood, her expression twisted with frustrated anger.

"You wretched girl! He just had over a hundred acupuncture needles yesterday—can't you see the wounds all over his body?"

Panic and regret flickered in Greta's eyes. She started to rush toward me—

But Noel collapsed behind her.

She whipped around in alarm, and despite her own injuries, wrapped her arms around him to help him leave.

Grandma Evelyn planted herself in her path.

"You're not going anywhere! You just gave birth—do you have a death wish?"

"Your husband is still in there! Do you even want this family anymore?"

Hesitation clouded Greta's eyes.

"I do! But you hurt Noel—I can't just abandon him! Bob... he has you. He'll be fine!"

Once upon a time, she would have moved mountains for me like that.

Once upon a time, I was never the one she chose to leave behind.

I looked at her, my gaze hollow.

"Grandma, let her go."

She seemed startled by my magnanimity.

After all, there was a time I'd thrown tantrums, groveled, even hurt myself to keep her from leaving—shredding every last scrap of my dignity as a man.

Something complicated passed through her eyes. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but in the end, she left.

The nurse re-dressed my wounds.

The baby was soothed to sleep.

Then my phone buzzed with her message.

[Sorry. I just didn't want to cause a scene at the hospital and damage the Jenner family's reputation.]

[Noel is still unconscious and needs someone with him, so I won't be coming over. We're recovering together. Don't worry.]

I stared at the screen for a long time.

Once, when I learned she'd been injured on a business trip, I flew eleven hours to be by her side. I went with her to every examination, never leaving for a moment.

She'd been so moved she could barely speak. She told me she would never let me down—not in this lifetime.

Seeing me sigh, Grandma Evelyn snatched the phone from my hand.

She read the cold words on the screen and let out a scornful huff.

"That wretched girl! Just wait until she gets back—I'll deal with her then. Bob, don't worry. Grandma will—"

I cut her off with a quiet laugh, meeting her eyes with a calm I no longer had to fake.

"You allowed all of this, didn't you?"

"I've stopped caring what she does. You promised me once this child was safely born, you'd help me get the divorce. I hope you intend to keep your word."

Her expression faltered, guilt pooling in her eyes.

"I've failed you, child."

"I've already tricked her into signing the divorce papers. Focus on recovering. Once she's finished her postpartum confinement, you can leave."

Grandma Evelyn took the baby into her own care, personally arranging for someone to look after him.

I quietly returned to the apartment I'd lived in before the marriage, staying out of the public eye.

But that night, the gossip still tore through the business world: Jenner Group heiress defies matriarch for her brother-in-law, risking her postpartum health to protect him.

The Jenner family's stock plummeted. Greta was drowning in damage control.

Noel's lifestyle influencer account was swarmed by furious netizens. The scandal I'd once personally exposed—him seducing his own brother's wife—the one Greta had buried, resurfaced and spread like wildfire.

The platform was flooded with condemnation. If Greta hadn't intervened, his account would have been terminated and he'd be facing breach-of-contract penalties.

Seven days passed before I saw her again.

The moment she laid eyes on me, disappointment carved itself into her features.

"Bob, does destroying us like this really make you happy?"

I blinked, then understood.

She was pinning the leaked gossip on me.

Well, of course I could. After all, I used to work in media—stirring up public opinion was my specialty.

Too bad the first time I went crazy and exposed her affair with Noel, she threatened the company into firing me, citing privacy violations and defamation.

These days, finding someone willing to help wasn't easy.

I shot her a sideways glance, long past feeling any grievance over being misunderstood.

I continued wrapping the memorial gift for John's anniversary.

"You should know your dirty laundry doesn't end with what's already public. If I wanted to expose more, you'd be hemorrhaging again."

She stood frozen in the doorway for a long moment.

Her voice came out almost resigned.

"After this, I'll cut things off with him. But promise me—we'll live properly from now on, okay? Once the baby comes, we'll be a happy family."

Words like these—she'd said them nearly every day during her pregnancy.

Didn't stop her from staying tangled up with Noel.

One day it was pity for his illegitimate status. The next, sympathy for how alone he was without family.

There was always a reason—a million reasons—for her "helpless" attraction to him, for helping his career take off.

She stayed planted in the doorway, as if she wouldn't leave until I answered.

Watching her block out the sunlight, I gave a half-hearted agreement just to be done with it.

It wasn't until the next morning—when an uncensored video of me "cheating" went viral—that I understood what she'd meant by after this.

Greta released a clarification video.

In it, she wept for the cameras, telling the media that her brother-in-law had caught me cheating during her pregnancy. That I'd lashed out first, spreading false rumors about her to cover my own sins.

Noel chimed in, grief-stricken, claiming he'd only tried to stop me from hurting Greta's feelings—but I'd assumed he would expose my affair and sought revenge.

The internet screamed for Greta to divorce this "gold-digger" immediately.

But she played the devoted wife.

"No matter what mistakes Bob makes in this lifetime, I can't stop loving him."

Watching her sickening performance, I couldn't hold it back. I threw up.

Greta heard from outside and rushed in.

"What's wrong?"

I frowned, watching Noel trail in behind her, and shook off her hand.

"Nothing. Just disgusted by you." My voice was flat. "Willing to destroy your husband's reputation to protect your affair. Greta, your love really is something."

Her face went chalk-white. She opened her mouth to explain.

But Noel suddenly dropped to his knees.

"I'm sorry, Bob—it's all my fault! She only made you the scapegoat to protect me. But she's still recovering from childbirth, and she was so worried you'd be angry that she came to explain despite her health. Please don't blame her."

Greta's eyes filled with tender concern—for him. She turned an accusing glare on me.

"I came to tell you about this. That video was AI-generated. When it comes down to it, he's your brother—sacrificing yourself to help him is only right. And me helping him? That's helping you maintain your blood ties. Why do you have to be so aggressive toward him?"

She wasn't finished.

"Besides, you're unemployed. Reputation means nothing to you. Strangers can talk all they want—it won't change how I feel about you. I know the video is fake, and that's enough. But he's different. He has no one. His entire livelihood depends on media work. If his image is ruined, he loses everything."

Listening to her self-righteous justifications, all I felt was revulsion.

Unemployed. And whose fault was that?

Back then, she hadn't just pressured the company into firing me. She'd put the word out across the entire industry: anyone who hired me was making an enemy of her.

Interview after interview, I hit walls. When I finally landed a position at a small private studio, she filed malicious reports against us.

In the end, every single one of my media credentials was revoked. Just like that, I became the industry pariah everyone loved to hate.