In the evening, Dylan came back.

He brought my favorite pink roses and the strawberry cake I loved.

He apologized and admitted his mistake. He said that night with the girl was just a drunken mistake. It meant nothing to him.

He told me to rest assured. He would take care of everything.

I smiled understandingly. "The child is innocent," I said.

His dim eyes suddenly lit up with shock and joy.

"Olivia, you're willing to accept the child?" he asked.

What did that have to do with me?

I was about to die.

After I died, they could live happily as a family of three. How wonderful!

They say a man's ultimate dream is to be promoted, get rich, and have his wife die.

He was about to achieve all three.

Shouldn't I congratulate him in advance?

I generously allowed Dylan's lover to move into the villa. I arranged for the top care team to look after her needs.

I even advised Dylan to visit the girl more often. She needed care at this time, or she might develop prenatal depression.

Dylan looked serious and conflicted. He held my hand tightly. "Olivia, it's all for the child. When she gives birth, we'll take the baby and raise it. Then you'll be the mother," he said.

I smiled and nodded. "Whatever you say."

Watching his eager departure, I couldn't help but think, "Once the child is born and I'm gone, how will he feel when he recalls today?"

With my permission, Dylan visited the Hernandez villa more and more frequently.

Sometimes I wouldn't see him for ten days to half a month.

Because of this, I could spend countless nights vomiting uncontrollably.

My condition had worsened rapidly. My attending doctor said it was progressing much faster than expected.

How could it not?

I forced a smile.

My husband was cheating. The mistress was pressing for the throne. I still had to act like nothing was wrong and handle business as usual at the company, staying busy day and night.

Even a healthy person would collapse under such circumstances.

Let alone a terminal cancer patient.

My doctor advised me to be hospitalized, but what was the point?

My only family had betrayed me. Whether I lived or died, no one cared anymore.

Dragging it out for a few more months wouldn't change anything.

Instead of living in pain and suffering, it would be better to die quickly and spare myself from seeing Mary flaunting her love on social media every day.

Oh, I forgot to mention, that pregnant girl who came to confront me is called Mary.

She claimed to be the best gift for Dylan this summer.

How romantic.

If I were half as romantic as she was, Dylan might not have cheated.

But sadly, none of that mattered anymore.

Because I had someone look into her past and discovered some very interesting things.

The little girl had met many rich second-generation heirs and wealthy bosses while still in college. Dylan was just one of them.

And the child in her belly?

I laughed.

Surprises always come so unexpectedly.

I wondered if Dylan would still feel the joy of being a father once he knew.

The Hernandez villa was no longer enough for Mary's ambition and greed.

She came to my home and confronted me. Her arms crossed, arrogantly demanding, "Give up the house! The baby and I will live here!"