My phone buzzed with a flurry of notifications. The family group chat was blowing up.

Jordan, my eldest brother, didn't waste words. "Lettie, I've got this handled. If Rhys refuses to sign the papers, I'll pull every contract we have with his company. I'll bankrupt him before the ink dries."

Then came Jack. I could practically hear him cracking his knuckles through the screen. "Damn right. Say the word, Lettie, and I'll send a few guys over to break his legs. Teach him a lesson he won't forget."

Mom and my sisters-in-law flooded the chat with warmth, promising they were already at the hospital and urging me to focus only on the baby.

The knot in my chest loosened. The cold sting of betrayal gave way to steady warmth. I might have lost a husband, but I still had an army.

I placed a hand on my belly, breathing steady. We're going to be okay, I told the little one.

Just as I pulled up to the hospital entrance, my phone rang. Unknown number. Distracted, I answered automatically.

"Honey!" Rhys's voice came through, breathless and frantic. "I fell running back to the house. You weren't there. I've been calling and calling—where are you? Let me come get you. Please, think of the baby."

Impressive performance. But before I could respond, the phone was wrestled away. A new voice came on—sickly sweet and trembling.

"Scarlett? It's Emily. Please don't be mad at Rhys anymore."

I tightened my grip on the steering wheel.

"I forced him to help me park," she continued, her voice pitching into a whine. "It has nothing to do with him. He's been running in circles trying to find you. He hasn't even eaten because he's so worried you'll take the baby and do something rash."

A dramatic sniffle. "If you're still angry, I'll come apologize right now. You can hit me, scold me, whatever you want. Just... please tell us where you are. I don't want to be the reason you two fight."

Her voice was thick with tears, painting herself as the aggrieved, self-sacrificing victim. A masterclass in manipulation. To a man, she sounded like a fragile flower being crushed. To me, the malice dripping from every word was unmistakable.

I let out a cold laugh. "You want to apologize?"

"Yes, anything," she sobbed.

"Fine. Slap yourself. Right now."

Silence—then a sharp, crisp crack.

Emily let out a suppressed whimper. "Scarlett... I did it. Can you forgive Rhys now?"

Before I could answer, Rhys roared into the phone.

"Scarlett Taylor, are you insane?"

His voice was laced with venom. "Emily is just a kid! She just graduated! I helped her with a parking spot, and you force her to slap herself? Is this how petty you've become? You're acting like a shrew!"

First time in eight years he'd ever raised his voice at me like that. And he did it for her.

Emily coughed lightly in the background, playing the martyr. "Rhys, stop... She's pregnant. Don't yell at her because of me. I'll feel guilty."

Her act worked perfectly. Rhys's tone softened instantly. "Em, you're too kind. People walk all over you because you let them. But I won't let you be bullied. I'm getting justice for you."

Then his rage turned back to me.

"Listen carefully, Scarlett. If you want to keep me as your husband—if you want that child to have a father—you will apologize to Emily. Immediately."

He paused, letting the threat hang. "Or we divorce."

Even though I'd already made up my mind, the ultimatum struck a nerve. He was willing to throw away eight years and his unborn child for a neighbor he'd known two months.

People really do change, I thought. Or maybe he was always this way, and I was just too blind to see it.

"Is that a promise?" I asked, my voice steady.

Rhys faltered. "What?"

"Fine. As you wish." I cut through his confusion. "We divorce."

His breathing hitched. He clearly hadn't expected me to call his bluff. But the words were out, and with Emily standing right there, his ego wouldn't let him back down.

"Fine!" he snapped. "Divorce it is. Don't come crawling back when you realize what you've lost!"

"I'm returning those exact words to you. I hope you won't regret this."

I ended the call and turned to Jack, who was supporting my weight. His face was dark with suppressed rage.

"Jack," I said, my voice steady despite the pain radiating through me. "Pull the project you gave Rhys. Reassign it immediately. He doesn't deserve a scrap of your charity."

Jack nodded, jaw set. "Consider it done. I'm calling President Zhou right now."

He pulled out his phone, scoffing. "That ungrateful bastard. No car, no house, no savings. His father's practically a corpse kept alive by our money. If you hadn't been bankrolling him for years, he'd have been finished long ago. And he still has the audacity to bite the hand that feeds him?"

Jack wasn't exaggerating.

Two years into our relationship, Rhys's father had collapsed in the street—a stroke leaving him comatose. The Abbott family liquidated everything just to scrape together the surgery fees.

But surgery was only the down payment. ICU costs, imported nutritional fluids, endless rehabilitation—a financial black hole. Rhys hadn't even graduated; he was hauling bricks at construction sites just to earn pennies.

I couldn't watch him suffer. To protect his pride, I'd contacted the hospital as an "anonymous donor" and covered every bill since.

Without my money, would he have lived so comfortably? Would he have had the leisure to flirt with our neighbor while I carried his child?

A cold smile touched my lips.

"Jack, tell the hospital to cut the funding too. Jackson Abbott's medical bills are Rhys's problem now."

Moments after giving the order, contractions seized me. I was wheeled into the delivery room, the doors swinging shut on my old life.

An hour later, I emerged.

When I drifted back to consciousness, my family stood guard around the bed. My mother sat close, gripping my hand.

I looked at their concerned faces, then down at the bassinet. My daughter slept there—a tiny, perfect bundle.

For the first time in months, I smiled. Genuinely. The future finally looked bright.

Then the shouting started.

"Lettie! Open the door!" Rhys's voice, muffled but unmistakable. "I'm the father! You can't keep me from my child!"

Jack bristled, fists curling. "That son of a bitch. We already told him to get lost."

He stepped toward the door. "If he doesn't leave, I'm knocking his teeth out."

"Jack, wait." I stopped him. "Let him in. I want to settle the divorce now. I'm done dragging this out."

My mother frowned. "Lettie, you just gave birth. The stress—can't this wait?"

Madeline nodded. "She's right. If you get worked up now, you could end up with long-term issues."

I shook my head.

My second brother stepped forward. "Let her do it. Lettie knows her limits. If she gets uncomfortable, we stop." He glanced around. "Besides—do you really think we'd let Rhys bully her with all of us here? The sooner she cuts him loose, the better."

His logic won them over. Jack threw open the door.

Rhys didn't even make it through first. His mother, Josephine, barreled past him, voice screeching.

"Where is he? Where's my big, fat grandson?"

My mother stepped in front of the crib, blocking her path. Her expression was ice.

"There is no grandson. It's a granddaughter."

"Granddaughter?"

Josephine's face collapsed. She snatched her hands back as if the crib were contagious, excitement replaced by indignation.

"A girl doesn't count! Listen to me, Scarlett—this one's a write-off. Once your confinement month is up, you need to get pregnant again immediately! The Abbott family has had a single son for three generations. We will not let the line die because of your incompetence!"

In the past, whenever his mother went on these tirades, Rhys would rush to shield me, claiming he preferred daughters anyway.

But today?

Rhys stood behind her, limp and spineless. He tugged at her sleeve in a half-hearted attempt to silence her, not daring to meet my eyes.

"Mom, Lettie just gave birth. Can't this wait?" Rhys pleaded, exhaustion dripping from every word.

"There is no later."

I cut him off. My second brother stepped forward and produced the divorce agreement he'd prepared days ago. I slapped the document onto the bedside table.

"I bought the house before the wedding. The car was part of my dowry. You get neither." My voice was flat. "Full custody of the child goes to me. Your salary and savings? Keep them. I don't want a single cent."

I stared him down. "Read it. Sign it."

Rhys froze. He'd clearly assumed my earlier threats were just postpartum hormones. But seeing the legal documents in black and white, reality finally crashed down on him.

"No... Honey, wait," he stammered, panic flaring in his eyes. "I just helped a neighbor park her car. How did we get to divorce? I don't agree to this!"

He reached for my hand, dropping his voice and putting on that pathetic puppy-dog expression he always used to manipulate me.

My eldest brother and Jack stepped in immediately, blocking his path like a human wall.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, a cold smile playing on my lips. "Rhys Abbott, you were just parking a car? Then explain the spicy hotpot stench clinging to your clothes."

The color drained from his face. His eyes darted around, guilt shattering his innocent facade. In the corner, Emily leaned against the wall and smirked, openly provocative.

Only Josephine looked completely bewildered—and furious.

"What parking? What hotpot?" she shrieked. "Don't think you can drag up random excuses to avoid splitting property with my son!"

She pointed a trembling finger at me. "Rhys has treated you like a queen these past few years! Every cent he earned was spent on you. He cooked, he cleaned... do you have any idea what a live-in nanny costs? Eight thousand a month! Why should you get away with giving nothing?"

"Because everything he has? I gave it to him."

I didn't care about Rhys Abbott's fragile ego anymore. I was done protecting him.

"Without me, do you really think a man with his mediocre degree would land a job at a Fortune 500 company?"

The humiliation hit him like a slap. His cheeks flushed crimson.

"Bullshit! I earned that!" he shouted, voice cracking. "The interviewers valued my talent! Once I passed probation, I closed deal after deal. Just last week, I signed the biggest order of the year with Winston Corp! The VPs are recommending me for the Outstanding Employee Award. How dare you say I relied on you?"

"Is that so?" I tilted my head. "Then let me clarify: cross me, and you're out. I can have you fired before sunset."

Rhys let out an incredulous laugh. He looked at me as if I were insane.

"Fire me? Scarlett, I know the Taylors have money. But money doesn't make you God. You can't manipulate everything."

He puffed out his chest. "I'm a top sales candidate bringing in tens of millions in revenue. Every executive fawns over me. You think you have the power to touch my job?"

Josephine chimed in, emboldened. "Exactly! My son is the big boss's favorite. Don't you even dream—"

Rhys's phone rang.

He glanced at the screen, smirked at me, and answered on speaker to prove a point. Before he could say a word, a furious roar erupted from the device.

"Rhys Abbott! Who gave you the nerve to provoke the Taylor family? They're our most critical client! Pack your things. Don't bother coming in tomorrow!"