Davies moved even faster than I had imagined.

The next morning, before I was even out of bed, my mother’s call came through.

“Deanna! What on earth is going on with you? Davies says you can’t have children? And now you’re talking about divorce? Have you lost your mind?”

Clutching the phone, my throat felt dry.

“Mom, it’s not what you think…”

“What do you mean ‘not what I think’? Then what is it?!” my mother snapped before I could explain, her voice rising into a furious roar.

“Where are you ever going to find a man as good as Davies? So you can’t have children? So, what?! Medicine is so advanced now. Can’t you just do IVF? Why are you being so unreasonable? Hurry up and apologize to Davies! Beg him not to divorce you!”

Listening to her scolding, my heart turned cold.

The first thing my own mother worried about wasn’t whether I was hurt or humiliated. She was worried about losing Davies, the source of her funds.

“Mom, Davies cheated. He got another woman pregnant.”

I tried to explain, but she cut me off instantly.

“So what?”

Her tone was firm, self-righteous even.

“Men fool around outside all the time! As long as he still acknowledges you as his wife and brings the money home, that’s what matters! What are you making such a fuss for? Stop it right now and apologize to him!”

At that, I hung up the phone and immediately blocked her number.

Not even two minutes later, my father called.

His voice was heavy, weighed down with frustration.

“Deanna, Davies just called. He said he’s terminating all cooperation with our factory. Do you realize what that means? Dozens of workers are waiting to put food on the table! Can’t you… Can’t you just endure this a little longer?”

Hearing my father’s voice almost pleading, my chest tightened, as though a giant hand had gripped my heart and refused to let go.

“I’m sorry, Dad.” I closed my eyes, my voice hoarse. “This time, I really can’t endure it.”

He stayed silent for a long time before letting out a weary sigh and hanging up.

Before I could recover, Messenger began to buzz nonstop with notifications.

Several wealthy wives I used to be on friendly terms with reached out, their messages dripping with false concern.

[Deanna, I heard you and President Osment are divorcing? Is it true?]

[Oh, not being able to conceive isn’t such a big deal these days. You can always do IVF.]

[Exactly! Why go as far as divorce? President Osment is such a good man. You should cherish him.]

One even “kindly” recommended an old traditional medicine doctor who specialized in infertility.

My hands trembled with rage as I scrolled through their messages.

So this was Davies’s doing. He couldn’t wait to shout it from the rooftops that I was infertile.

I didn’t bother replying. I muted every single one of them.

But the peace didn’t last. Soon, the doorbell began to ring.

Peering through the peephole, I saw Tanisha.

She was dressed in a designer maternity dress, her belly already slightly showing. One hand supported her waist, the other carried a luxury shopping bag, and her face was full of pride.

I hadn’t intended to open the door, but she kept pressing the bell relentlessly, loud enough that neighbors began peeking out curiously.

With a sharp pull, I opened the door.

Tanisha flinched in surprise but quickly lifted her chin again.

She thrust the bag toward me with a patronizing smile.

“Deanna, I heard you’re divorcing Davies? Don’t be too upset. After all, since you can’t have children. It’s only natural for him to want one. This little gift is just a bit of compensation from the two of us.”

I stared at her gloating face and spat out just two words.

“Get out.”

Her expression faltered, but then she seemed to remember something and forced a laugh.

Rubbing her belly deliberately, she said, “Oh, don’t be angry, Deanna. Anger is bad for your health. Not that… well, not that you really have anything left to protect.”

She laughed, then, with feigned innocence, she added, “By the way, Davies said this house will be for me and the baby from now on. When are you planning to move out? Pregnant women need a quiet environment for nurturing life, you know.”

I watched her little performance with impatience, my tone flat.

“Done talking? If you’re done, get out. Don’t dirty my floor.”

Her smile froze, then cracked into fury. She shouted, “Deanna! Who do you think you are?! You’re nothing but a barren hen sitting on a nest without laying eggs! Davies never loved you! Be smart and get lost already!”

“Oh?” I arched my brow. “So he doesn’t love me, but instead loves you—the office bicycle? Didn’t you climb into several executives’ beds before your probation was even over? Does Davies know the baby isn’t his?”

Tanisha’s face went ghostly pale. Her finger trembled as she pointed at me.

“You… You're talking nonsense! Davies would never believe your lies!”

“Whether it’s nonsense or not, you know very well,” I shot back.

I couldn’t be bothered to argue with her any further and moved to close the door.

But she shoved her hand against it, glaring at me with hatred in her eyes.

“Just you wait, bitch! Once Davies and I are married, you’ll regret this!”

I let out a low laugh, then slammed the door shut with all my strength, leaving her outside.

Inside, I leaned my back against the wooden door and slowly slid down to the floor. Anger and humiliation surged through me like a tide.

But I couldn’t afford to lose control.

The more arrogant Davies and Tanisha became, the more satisfying the show would be later.

Drawing in several deep breaths, I forced myself to calm down.

Over the next few days, I carried on as usual, as if nothing had happened. I ignored the gossip swirling outside.

Davies came home a few times to collect his things. Each time, he looked at me with that same mix of contempt and disdain, as though even sparing me a glance soiled his eyes.

Once, he even “accidentally” left the prenatal checkup report he had done with Tanisha right on the coffee table in the living room.

I pretended not to see.

Tanisha, meanwhile, only grew bolder. Almost every day she posted on her Facebook, flaunting her love, showing off her growing belly, and making thinly veiled jabs—saying that “some people” were occupying a place that didn’t belong to them.

I saved every single post as a screenshot.

During that time, my father called me several more times. Each call carried a sharper edge of desperation. He told me the factory was on the brink of collapse and begged me to ask Davies for help.

I gritted my teeth and hardened my heart.

“Dad, trust me. Just wait a little longer. The turning point is coming soon.”

He thought I’d lost my mind.

Maybe I had—driven to madness by those two shameless people.

Finally, the day of Davies’s company’s annual gala arrived.

I knew he would definitely bring Tanisha, making their relationship public at last.

An invitation had even been sent to me, under the title of “employee’s family.”

I didn’t hesitate. I dressed carefully, putting on my most expensive battle armor, and painted on flawless makeup.

When I looked at the woman in the mirror—the one with ice in her eyes and a presence that filled the room—I clenched my fists tight.

‘Davies. Tanisha. Your happy days are over.’

The gala was held at the city’s most luxurious hotel ballroom.

By the time I arrived, the place was already brimming with laughter, clinking glasses, and endless chatter.

Davies, the company’s CEO, was mingling with guests, a wine glass in hand. At his side, Tanisha clung to his arm like she owned the place.

Her loose evening gown couldn’t hide the obvious swell of her belly. She hadn’t stopped smiling since she stepped into the room.

But as soon as I entered, heads turned. People’s gazes carried different shades—some pity, some contempt, some sheer curiosity, eager for drama.

When Davies spotted me, his expression instantly reddened.

He strode over quickly, lowering his voice. “Deanna? Why are you dressed like this? Are you here just to make a scene?”

Tanisha followed close behind, putting on a false air of concern.

“Oh, Deanna, you came? At an occasion like this, aren’t you just embarrassing yourself?”

I met her eyes and gave a slight smile.

“Why wouldn’t I come? Legally speaking, I’m still his wife. But you? You’re a mistress parading around with a baby in your belly. Aren’t you the one who should be ashamed?”

The crowd gasped.

Tanisha’s face turned from green to white in a heartbeat. She ducked behind Davies, pretending to be pitiful.

“Davies…” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Davies’s temper snapped. He jabbed a finger at me, shouting, “Deanna! Shut up! Get out of here right now! Stop humiliating yourself!”

“Humiliating myself?” I gave a cold laugh, letting my gaze sweep across the entire hall. Then I raised my voice, sharp and clear.

“President Osment, who’s really humiliating themselves here? You, who cheated on your wife, got an intern pregnant, and then brought her to the company’s annual gala? Is that something to be proud of?”

A vein throbbed angrily on Davies’s forehead as he roared,

“You’re spouting nonsense! You’re the one who can’t have children! I only—”

“Only what?” I cut him off, stepping closer, my voice like a blade. “Only had no choice but to find someone else to bear you a child? Davies, do you even believe that yourself?”

I turned then, addressing the entire room.

“Everyone, since we’re all gathered here today, I’d like to clear something up once and for all.”

Davies’s expression shifted in alarm. He lunged toward me.

“Deanna! What are you trying to do?”

Two colleagues, ones I used to be on good terms with, instinctively stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

From my bag, I pulled out a wrinkled medical report and lifted it high for everyone to see.

“For three years, I’ve carried the burden of being called barren, suffering endless ridicule and humiliation. Today, I’ll let you all see for yourselves—who truly is the infertile here!”