Rianne’s POV

Each tug of the bandage sent a jolt of pain through me, making my whole body tremble.

Beside me, the two nurses were chatting casually.

“Did you hear? In the VIP suite upstairs, Mr. Morrison is absolutely spoiling the patient. She just said it hurt, and he had someone bring in this year’s entire luxury collection for her to pick from!”

“I know, right? He goes with her to every prenatal check-up, personally. And when she gets injections, I swear, he looks like he’s in pain himself. He must really love her.”

As I listened, I glanced down at the countless wounds covering my body. I couldn’t help but let out a soft, bitter laugh at myself.

‘So this is the difference between being cared for… and not,’ I thought to myself. ‘But it doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t want him.’

The hospital was crowded, and by the time I got home, it was already late at night.

I opened the door—and there she was. Luella. Sitting comfortably on the couch I had chosen myself.

She jumped up the moment she saw me.

“Rianne! You’re back! Nigel’s in the kitchen making chicken and collard green soup for me. Want a bowl too?”

Before I could even respond, Nigel appeared in a hurry.

“Rianne, the doctor said she’s been having some antenatal depression and hasn’t been sleeping well. I thought it’d be best to bring her here for a few days,” he explained.”

He even hurriedly promised, “I promise, once her due date gets closer, I’ll take her somewhere else. You—”

I cut him off by pulling a blank divorce agreement from my bag.

“I don’t really mind,” I said, “but you need to sign this first.”

He froze. Just as he was about to look at it, Luella called out sweetly from the living room.

“Nigel, the baby’s hungry! Is the soup ready yet?”

Without hesitation, he signed his name and turned back toward the kitchen.

I stood there, watching the man whose hands I’d always protected now awkwardly stirring a pot on the stove.

Seven years of marriage. And this was the first time he’d ever cooked.

“Rianne,” Luella said, her voice dripping with pride, “aren’t you jealous? Nigel said he’s going to take care of me and the baby from now on.”

I turned and met her gaze—bitchy and full of challenge.

All I felt was disgust.

The home that Nigel once said belonged to just the two of us… had changed beyond recognition.

I walked upstairs, eager to pack and leave as quickly as possible.

But when I got to the door, I found all my belongings shoved into a messy pile outside.

Even our wedding photo had been torn to pieces and thrown in the trash.

“Nigel said I could choose any room,” Luella said as she followed me upstairs. “This one’s big, so I picked it. He said the extra stuff could be thrown out.”

She looked pleased with herself as she added, “Oh… was this your and Nigel’s bedroom? I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. I can move my things if you want…”

A year ago, I might’ve argued, screamed, and confronted them.

But now—I was leaving. Whoever lived here, whatever happened in this villa… it had nothing to do with me anymore.

“You don’t have to,” I said calmly. “This room suits you.”

Then, right in front of her, I tossed everything else into the trash.

I was about to step into the room and take my mother’s photo with me.

But when I opened the drawer… it was empty!

In a panic, I dropped to my knees and began searching through the mess.

Then I felt a presence beside me.

I looked up. Luella stood over me, holding a familiar frame in her hand.

“Looking for this?” she asked.

I stood up, but before I could reach her, she let it go, letting the frame crash to the floor and shatter.

“Oh no—sorry! My hand slipped! Honestly, that thing gave me the creeps. I was worried it might be bad for the baby, so I told Nigel… and he said I could throw it out. Anyway, Rianne, who’s this dead person in the photo? Someone you knew?”

I looked up at her fake-innocent expression, and something in me snapped.

I raised my hand to slap that bitch across the face.

Rianne’s POV

But before I could even touch her, that lunatic suddenly threw herself backward!

Her body crashed down the stairs, heavy and loud as she tumbled.

She clutched her belly, crying out in pain. “Ahhh—Nigel! Help me!”

In a panic, Nigel ran out of the kitchen.

The moment he saw Luella on the floor, he turned on me in fury.

He charged up the stairs and kicked me hard, knocking me to the floor.

“What the fuck, Rianne?! What the hell is wrong with you?! Haven’t you done enough already?!” he shouted. “How far are you planning to go? God damn it, do you want to lose our baby before you’re satisfied?!”

Before I could say a word, Luella was already sobbing loudly. “Nigel, our baby… Is our baby gonna be okay?” She clutched her belly, pleading, “Please! Nigel, save him! Please, save our baby!”

Nigel’s expression softened with heartache. He bent down and scooped her into his arms, his voice suddenly gentle.

“Shh, it’s okay. I won’t let anything happen to you or the baby.”

With that, he walked toward the door.

But before leaving, he turned to the guards and left an instruction.

“Lock her in the storage room for the night. No lights.”

I stared at him in disbelief.

“You know I have claustrophobia!” I shouted. “Are you trying to kill me, Nigel?!”

He paused for a second, but didn’t turn around.

“I know. But you hurt Luella. There has to be consequences.”

Just like that, he left.

The guards didn’t hesitate. They grabbed me and dragged me into the storage room.

As the door slammed shut, darkness swallowed me whole and I began to feel suffocated.

It didn’t take long before I felt it—something warm sliding down my inner thigh.

The next second, a sharp, stabbing pain flared in my lower belly.

I rushed to the door and started pounding on it, screaming, “Help! Someone—please! I’m pregnant! My belly hurts! I’m bleeding! Please take me to the hospital!”

The guard panicked and called Nigel, but his voice on the other end was cold and dismissive.

“She’s faking it. Don’t believe her. Don’t open that door unless I say so.”

Just like that, the call ended.

I collapsed onto the floor, shaking and crying. The pain was unbearable, and blood just kept pooling beneath me.

It went on like that the entire night.

The next morning, one of the housekeepers came to grab something and screamed when she saw me.

She rushed me to the hospital right away.

The same doctor who had been scheduled to perform my abortion saw me and immediately called for emergency surgery.

As the anesthesia spread through my body, I heard a nurse’s excited voice out in the hallway.

“Congratulations, sir—both mother and baby are doing well!”

At the same time, inside the OR, my condition was rapidly deteriorating.

I was bleeding out. The delay had pushed things too far.

“What do we do?” a nurse cried. “Her husband’s marked as deceased. We need a family member’s signature to remove the uterus!”

Hunther’s POV

In a panic, I pulled up my black Maybach at the hospital entrance.

The nurses outside gasped.

“Who’s that? Even the hospital director came out to greet him.”

“And the doctor behind him—isn’t she Tallahassee’s famous OB-GYN? I heard someone once offered her almost a million for an appointment and she still refused!”

“Oh my god… Who’s his wife? She must be the luckiest woman alive! He’s rich, powerful, and clearly in love with her.”

I didn’t waste any more time. I ran to the operating room.

Rianne’s POV

Suddenly, the operating room door swung.

Hunther… He stepped in, rushed to me, and gently brushed the hair away from my forehead.

With hopeful eyes, he turned to the doctor, who followed him inside. “Auntie Chandra, I’m trusting you with my wife.”

“Don’t worry,” the doctor replied. “She’ll come out of this just fine.”

Nigel’s POV

One month later, I held a grand party to celebrate the baby’s first milestone.

Only then did I remember my wife.

I casually snapped a photo of the baby and tried to send it to her—only to realize…

‘She blocked me?’

I figured, ‘She’s probably still sulking about what happened. A few sweet words will smooth things over.’

Just as I reached for my phone, my assistant rushed in, breathless, holding a wedding invitation.

“Sir! Sir, your wife is getting married. The wedding… It’s happening today.”