The woman Lucas Kingston kept by his side was pregnant.

When I found out, I was shocked to realize that she was just as far along as I was.

In front of me, she gently caressed her rounded belly before settling herself onto Lucas’s lap.

"I heard that Miss Carter’s equestrian skills rival those of men. I’m quite curious and would love to see it for myself. Lucas, could you ask her to give us a demonstration?

“If she manages to please me…" She leaned in closer to him, her voice seductive.

"Tonight, you can have whatever you want."

Lucas’s gaze turned icy as it landed on me.

Though he said nothing, everyone present understood his intent.

My face drained of color as I pleaded desperately, "Lucas, please don’t do this! I’ll lose the baby!"

Laughter rippled through the crowd, while Lucas merely looked at me with disdain.

"If you lose it, you can always have another. Now get on the horse! If you can’t entertain her properly, don’t even think about leaving this racetrack tonight!"

The moment his words left his mouth, several people grabbed me and forced me onto the saddle.

The startled horse reared and took off in a frenzy. Every jolt sent unbearable pain through my abdomen.

I glanced back.

From the viewing platform, the two of them were already locked in a passionate embrace.

Clutching the reins with all my strength, I forced a bitter smile.

This was the seventh time. And the last.

From that moment on, I would never humiliate myself for anyone again.

The sharp scent of disinfectant stung my senses as I slowly awakened.

In the hospital room, only Lucas Kingston lounged on the sofa, lazily holding Vanessa Reed in his arms.

Not a single member of the Kingston family was present.

When Lucas noticed I had opened my eyes, he asked indifferently, “Awake?”

My face remained deathly pale as my gaze drifted to my noticeably flat abdomen.

Lucas stayed silent for a moment before letting out an impatient scoff.

“So you actually lost it. What a shame—it was already so far along.”

A numb, bitter smile tugged at my lips. Yes, seven and a half months.

Last night, Lucas had summoned me to the racetrack. Because of one careless remark from Vanessa, I lost count of how many laps I had ridden. All I knew was that, by the end, even breathing felt like agony.

Only when they had finally tired of their game did Lucas fasten the last button on his shirt and glance at me as he stood in the middle of the racetrack.

“That’s enough.”

Pale and gasping for breath, I climbed down from the horse.

A sharp pain and a damp sensation overwhelmed me as I stared blankly at Lucas, who was surrounded by his entourage.

Staggering a few steps, I collapsed onto the grass and reached out a trembling hand toward him.

“Lucas… call 911…”

Clutching my stomach, I gasped as beads of sweat rolled down my forehead.

The young men around us noticed my condition and crowded closer, their voices filled with disbelief.

“Come on, it was just a couple of laps. Does she really need to be this dramatic?”

"You’re right, Lucas. She’s putting on quite the act—I almost believed her."

"Don’t even get me started. She looks exactly like she did back then, pretending she had nothing to do with Grandma Eve’s death!

“Not bad, Lily. After all these years, your acting skills haven’t faded one bit!"

Lucas strolled over with Vanessa at his side, his arm protectively around her. His brows furrowed as he scrutinized me.

He had likely long forgotten what I had looked like the last time I miscarried. Now, he too thought I was faking it.

Vanessa stepped forward first, her expression filled with disgust.

"OMG, did you just pee yourself?” she gasped.

She raised her voice deliberately, ensuring everyone’s attention shifted to my legs.

A crushing wave of humiliation swallowed me, choking the air from my lungs.

Instinctively, I turned to Lucas again.

"Lucas, please… help me. My stomach—it hurts so much," I pleaded.

But he merely pushed my hand away in disgust.

"Pathetic."

With that single word, he turned and walked off, taking his entourage with him. Even the racetrack staff ignored me, leaving me on the grass as I called for help.

Eventually, everything went black.

When I woke up again, I was already in the hospital.

…

My eyes burned. It had happened again—I had lost my child.

Vanessa rested her head against Lucas’s shoulder, absentmindedly patting her swollen belly.

"What a shame, Miss Carter. Just a few laps and your baby was gone. You really are a walking curse.

“I’ve had far rougher nights with Lucas—so many times, so intense, sweating until we were both exhausted. And yet, my child is still safe and sound in my womb."

Lucas chuckled and pressed a kiss to her lips.

"How could she compare to you? Even if her child had lived, they’d grow up only to serve ours."

I had heard cruel words like that so many times before. Every time, they chipped away at me, splintering my heart.

And every time, I lashed out without thinking. "That was your child! How could you say such a thing?"

Lucas would always meet my anger with that same cold stare, never responding, as if he enjoyed watching me unravel.

But now? I felt nothing. I had gone completely numb.

Maybe it was the blood loss, or maybe it was exhaustion, but the cold wind seeping in from the window made me shiver violently.

I cleared my throat and forced my voice to remain distant.

"Lucas, could you close the window? I’m freezing. The doctor said I shouldn’t catch a chill at this stage. Thank you."

Every time I had miscarried before, the doctors had warned me about the same thing.

Lucas's expression darkened, his tone like a blade slicing through the winter air.

"You miscarried—you didn’t give birth. What’s with the postpartum recovery nonsense? Or are you just making excuses so you can slack off instead of going back home to care for my mother?"

With that, he turned to leave. He had already spent half an hour with me—his patience had run out.

But just before stepping out, he deliberately pushed every window wide open.

"No cold drafts allowed? Let’s see what happens then…"

I sat there in silence, listening to his words, just as I had silently endured his hatred for the past five years.

But now, I am tired.

I was done carrying the guilt of his grandmother’s death.

And I was done being the Kingston family’s punching bag.

…

Five years ago, Lucas and I had been like a real-life Cinderella and her prince.

At the peak of our love, he brought me to the Kingston family estate.

The Kingstons were an old-money dynasty, their empire built on generations of strategic marriages. Lucas was the only exception—he refused to follow tradition.

No one in the family welcomed me, except for one person: his grandmother.

Grandma Eve was over ninety, and her health had been steadily declining. Once the formidable matriarch of the family, she had been forced to step back, relying on a wheelchair to move around.

She was the only one who wholeheartedly supported our relationship.

She adored me, often asking me to sit with her and talk. Lucas, too, would reminisce about their shared memories. But beneath her stories, I could always sense a lingering sorrow.

From those conversations, I learned that she, too, had once loved someone deeply. But for reasons beyond her control, their story had ended before it could truly begin.

As her condition worsened, even simple conversations became difficult. Yet, despite the overwhelming opposition from the Kingston family, she remained firm—she wanted Lucas to marry me.

One afternoon, during the wedding preparations, Lucas took Grandma Eve and me for a stroll in the park.

As we reached a slope, she scribbled a note, saying she was thirsty. Lucas hurried off to buy water, leaving me to watch over her.

Then, suddenly, her entire body tensed. Her eyes locked onto something in the distance, filled with urgent recognition as if she had just seen a ghost from her past.

Alarmed, I gripped her wheelchair and scanned the surroundings. But there was no one.

Then—

"Lily!"

Lucas's voice rang out behind me.

I turned—

And in that instant, the wheelchair slipped down the slope.

Because of my negligence, disaster struck.

After Grandma Eve’s funeral, Lucas still chose to marry me—but not out of love. What remained between us was no longer devotion but a bitter grudge.

"Lily, you’ll spend the rest of your life trapped in the Kingston estate—paying for what you’ve done."

From that moment on, it wasn’t just Lucas who resented me. The entire Kingston family seethed with anger and contempt.

During this time, Lucas met a woman named Vanessa and quickly fell madly in love with her.

As for me, my life in the Kingston household became a slow, sinking nightmare—one that swallowed me whole.

One by one, I lost five unborn children.

Then, one day, the doctor delivered the final blow.

"Miss Carter, given your history of repeated miscarriages over the past five years, your body has suffered severe damage. Under normal circumstances, conceiving again in the near future will be extremely difficult…"

His words were gentle, but I understood the truth behind them.

I nodded, my expression calm, offering no response.

"Would you like me to inform Mr. Kingston?"

After all, this was the Kingstons’ private hospital. Though tensions ran high, our relationship hadn’t completely crumbled into open hostility—at least, not enough to air our dirty laundry in public.

To the outside world, I was still Mrs. Kingston—unwanted and disregarded, but still afforded a sliver of respect.

I let out a quiet, resigned laugh.

"No…No need to tell him."

Just as I finished speaking, Lucas's call came through.

His tone was as lazy as ever, yet laced with unmistakable irritation.

"Still alive? If you are, come by the villa. Vanessa and I ran out of the usual brand we use, and I can’t stand anything else. You know what I like, right? Bring it over. I’ll send you the address."

Before I could respond, he hung up. Moments later, my phone buzzed with a message—an address.

In the past, I would have swallowed every ounce of pain and humiliation, dragging myself to complete whatever task Lucas threw at me—out of guilt, out of some desperate attempt to lessen his resentment toward me.

But not anymore.

Without a thought, I opened a delivery app and hired a courier.

My best friend set down the bowl of porridge she’d been holding, her eyes red as she tucked the blanket around me.

"Lily, why are you still holding on to Lucas? How much more does he want? How long is he going to keep torturing you? Does he want to drive you to the edge?"

I wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes and forced a weak smile. She had been secretly wiping her own tears ever since she stepped into the room.

"Don’t worry. He can’t hurt me anymore."

Lucas was furious when I didn’t deliver the items myself.

In retaliation, he froze my bank account and had the doctor throw me out of the hospital.

After gathering my things, I made my way back to the Kingston estate.

The moment the housemaids saw me, their faces twisted with disdain.

"Look who’s back—the walking disaster. Take a good look, everyone. Once again, she’s got nothing left in that belly. What a disgrace."

"Exactly. How many times has it been now? She can’t even carry a child to term, yet she still dares to show her face here? If I were her, I’d have hidden away in shame long ago."

"What can we say? We’re just the hired help—we could never compete with a face as thick as hers. Otherwise, maybe we’d have what it takes to be a high-society wife too."

I walked through the front hall, unbothered. By now, I had learned to tune out their whispers.

Unfortunately, I walked straight into Lucas and Vanessa in the living room as they sat with Karen Kingston, Lucas's mother.

The moment she saw me, Karen slammed her teacup down, her voice laced with venom.

"Lily, come here immediately!"

I halted on the stairs. My guilt toward Grandma Eve had never faded.

Slowly, I turned and walked toward Karen.

Karen’s anger flared—she didn’t even bother offering me a cushion. I knelt on the cold floor, pain stabbing through my knees.

My body had yet to fully recover, and when the wooden ruler struck my back, a sharp cramp shot through my abdomen.

"Hmph. Tell me, how many times has this happened? Even a stray dog can give birth to a litter every year. But you? You’re not even as useful as a mutt!

"You should never have gotten pregnant in the first place! At least then, you wouldn’t have caused so much trouble.

"Look at yourself. Do you think this is what Grandma wanted? If she were still alive to see you fail for five years straight, she would’ve made Lucas divorce you long ago! And yet, you shamelessly cling to this family like a parasite!"

Their insults and scorn were a brutal reminder—I had overstayed my welcome. It was time to leave.

I raised my head and looked at the very person responsible for my repeated miscarriages.

The first pregnancy happened a month after our wedding. An entire month of relentless physical strain had left me hospitalized, my body battered beyond repair.

When I found out I was pregnant, I was overjoyed. I thought my child would mend the rift between Lucas and me.

I was wrong.

Lucas merely scoffed, a cold smirk tugging at his lips.

"You think you're worthy of carrying my child?"

Before I could react, he forced a handful of bitter abortion pills down my throat. Within half an hour, searing pain tore through my abdomen, and I lost my first baby.

The second pregnancy came just as Lucas started seeing Vanessa. To keep her happy, he made me drink ten bottles of champagne.

I refused.

So, he did it himself.

After two bottles, I began to bleed.

The third time, I suffered because I failed to deliver certain “toys” on time. As punishment, he made me kneel outside the estate all day.

That night, Lucas sought a new thrill—kissing Vanessa passionately in front of me, their laughter twisting like knives in my heart.

The overwhelming humiliation and heartbreak stole my third child from me.

At that time, I had been carrying twins.

The grief shattered me—so completely that my heart stopped beating. I barely survived.

The last pregnancy lasted the longest.

Seven months.

For the first time, I dared to hope. I thought, maybe this time, I’d finally give birth.

But fate had other plans.

…

Lucas sat there the entire time, utterly indifferent, as if the children I lost had nothing to do with him.

Beside him, Vanessa looked down at me, eyes glinting with triumph, her smirk filled with condescension.

Karen, exhausted from hurling insults, tossed the wooden ruler aside and collapsed onto the sofa with a frustrated sigh.

"If only I’d held firm against Mother’s wishes and never agreed to your marriage! Now look at this mess—bringing a cursed wretch into our family was the worst decision we ever made!"

I let out a bitter laugh as I sat on the cold floor.

I had endured too much heartbreak in this house—Grandma’s passing, Lucas’s affairs, and in five years, I had lost five children…

"If that’s how you feel, then I’ll do as you wish," I said. "I’ll divorce Lucas. That way, the Kingstons can finally be rid of me."

For the first time, Lucas hesitated. His gaze flickered toward me, a fleeting moment of uncertainty in his cold eyes.

Then, a sharp laugh cut through the silence.

"Hah. You think you can just say the word ‘divorce’ and walk away?"

Before I could react, Lucas’s hand shot out, seizing me by the throat and slamming me onto the table.

His grip was crushing, suffocating, as if he truly meant to strangle me.

"You think your debt is repaid? That you can just kill someone and walk free?" His voice was ice, laced with fury.

"The world doesn’t work that way, Lily!"

He finally let go, but the force sent me reeling backward into the wall behind me. A sharp pain exploded in the back of my skull, followed by a warm trickle of liquid seeping down my neck.

Darkness swallowed me whole.

When I came to, I found myself back in the villa where Lucas and I had spent our early days as newlyweds.

Lucas was there, his expression unreadable as he handed me a glass of water.

I drank it without a word. Drowsiness crept in almost immediately, and I sank back into the bed, my body surrendering to exhaustion.

Half-conscious, I caught the sharp scent of alcohol and felt someone fumbling with my clothes.

As I struggled to resist, Lucas—drunk beyond reason—grew irritated.

"Oh? Playing the chaste woman now?" he sneered. "Weren’t you desperate to carry my child before? Now that I’m giving you the chance, you’re acting all coy. What’s that supposed to mean?"

His words sent a shiver down my spine. Anger surged through me, and before I could stop myself, I slapped him across the face.

"Lucas Kingston! I just had a miscarriage!" My voice trembled with fury. "The doctor said I need rest—there’s no way I can go through this right now!"

For once, my defiance gave him pause. He held my gaze, his dark eyes searching mine as if trying to see past my words, past my pain.

Then, with a scoff, he stepped back, shaking his head.

"You really know how to put on a show," he said coldly.

"Guess I shouldn’t be surprised. How else could you have fooled me into loving you five years ago?" His voice dropped, dripping with contempt.

"You’re the reason Grandma died."

The words struck me like a dagger to the chest, hollowing me out with pain.

Just like that, the moment was over. He straightened, his usual careless smirk returning as if nothing had happened.

"Recovery?" He let out a low chuckle. "You didn’t give birth—why should you get to rest?"

Then, as if I were nothing more than a household servant, he turned away.

"My mother hasn’t been feeling well these past few days," he added casually. "Starting tomorrow, you’ll be moving in to take care of her."

…

Karen delighted in tormenting me over the pettiest matters, and Lucas knew it well.

The next morning, before the bodyguards escorted me to her, Vanessa found me first.

She rested a gentle hand on her stomach, her expression soft and content. The sight was a cruel reminder of who I used to be before I lost everything.

Seeing my hollowed-out gaze seemed to satisfy her.

"You’d better mean it when you say you want a divorce," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

"Don’t try any of those pathetic tricks—letting go only to cling back harder. Lucas won’t fall for it."

She tilted her chin smugly. "You’re barely holding onto the title of Karen as it is. You should just give up now. Everyone knows I’m the better choice."

My face went pale, but I only gave a small, indifferent nod before following the bodyguards.

I was unprepared for the surprise that awaited me.

In the past, meeting Karen meant standing outside in the scorching sun or pouring rain for hours. Today, I was led straight through without delay.

She sat leisurely, sipping her tea, two identical divorce agreements placed neatly before her.

But the amusement in her eyes told me she didn’t believe for a second that I would actually leave.

She was waiting for me to break—to get down on my knees and beg.

"Are you sure you won’t regret this?" she asked.

I picked up the agreement and skimmed through it. It was hastily put together, thrown together carelessly—because she never imagined I would go through with it.

I reached into my bag and pulled out a set of papers, the ones my friend had helped me prepare in advance.

Without hesitation, I slid them across the table.

"No. I won’t."

Karen’s eyes widened in disbelief as she stared at the document in front of her.

"You planned to divorce Lucas all along?"

I didn’t answer immediately.

Karen took a slow sip of tea as she composed herself.

"Does Lucas know about this?"

I thought for a moment before shaking my head.

"He doesn’t need to. He just has to sign the papers."

To sever ties as quickly as possible, I had willingly forfeited all assets—walking away with nothing.

Karen was visibly shocked. But since she had never liked me to begin with, my willingness to leave without a single demand seemed to satisfy her.

She didn’t press further and simply agreed to have Lucas sign the documents.

From that moment on, I would be free. Lucas, his family, and everything tied to them—gone from my life forever.

I nodded and turned to leave.

But just as I reached the door, Karen’s voice stopped me cold.

"Wait."

Her sharp gaze locked onto me, a chilling weight in her words.

"There’s still one matter left unsettled."

She set down her teacup with deliberate precision.

"My mother’s death."