Countless baby items were neatly arranged throughout the room, clearly purchased by Tristan for Yasmin and her unborn child.

I asked, "Where are the things from my bedroom?"

Yasmin put on an innocent expression and replied, "Mrs. Barnes, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize that junk belonged to you. Professor Barnes told me I could do whatever I wanted with the stuff in the house, so I just..."

I let out a cold laugh. "How long has it been since I signed those divorce papers? How is this suddenly your home? I paid for half of this house, and even though Tristan and I are divorced, that doesn't make it yours!"

I ignored Yasmin's hysterical attempts to stop me and headed upstairs to confront Tristan. When Yasmin realized she couldn't stop me, she tore off her lingerie, slapped herself hard across the face in front of me, and then collapsed to the floor in tears.

Tristan quickly heard the commotion upstairs and rushed down without his slippers. He spotted me immediately and roared, "Bridget! What kind of scene are you making now?"

He wore only underwear, his upper body covered with visible scratch marks.

Yasmin sobbed as she explained, "Professor Barnes, Mrs. Barnes came by but was locked out. I rushed to open the door for her without changing my clothes, but when Mrs. Barnes saw the marks on my body, she seemed to get angry. She kept calling me a shameless woman, tore my clothes, and slapped my face..."

Her tears spoke louder than her words. Her damp lashes were fluttering, swift to pry pity from any man.

Tristan shouted, "Bridget, don't you realize Yas is pregnant? You've been pregnant yourself—you know how difficult it is! How dare you hit her? If anything happens to her baby, I'll never forgive you!"

With that, he gently cupped Yasmin's face and blew on her skin like soothing a child's scraped knee. "There, there, Yas. She just can't stand seeing me treat you well! Don't let her upset you!"

I watched the two of them clinging to each other like lovers and could no longer contain myself. "Tristan, look carefully..."

I stepped forward to where Yasmin stood, raised my hand, and delivered a full, deliberate slap across her face. A red handprint quickly formed on her cheek, and I declared, "This is what my slap actually looks like!"

Yasmin stood frozen in shock, momentarily forgetting to fake-cry. But in the next second, the scene before my eyes blurred with motion.

Tristan grabbed my shoulder and threw me onto the living room floor. He pinned me down with his knee and began slapping my face with savage force. He snarled, "Yasmin is my woman! When you slap her face, it's like you're slapping my face!"

I whimpered in pain but couldn't fight back under his weight. Blood began flowing from my nose, yet Tristan showed no signs of letting up.

"You should really look in a mirror and see what you've become! You don't even look like a woman anymore!"

With that, he grabbed a makeup mirror from the living room table and smashed it against my head. In an instant, the mirror shattered, and I caught glimpses of myself in the broken pieces.

Due to pregnancy hormones, my face was puffy and my hair disheveled, giving me an unkempt appearance. Soon, I saw blood streaming from my temple, down my chin, and dripping onto the shattered mirror pieces on the floor.

The entire house fell silent, with only the sound of my blood hitting the broken mirror fragments.

Tristan instinctively rushed to my side, attempting to help me up. He yelled, "Why didn't you dodge? Don't think I'll feel sorry for you just because you're injured and playing the victim!"

He raised his sleeve to wipe the blood from my temple, but it continued to flow out like sand from a punctured bag. I raised my hand and forcefully pushed him away, then braced myself against the floor and struggled toward the door.

Tristan was visibly panicked as he shouted after me, "Where do you think you're going? Why are you being so stubborn at a time like this? You need to get that wound treated at a hospital!"

He spoke while moving to catch up to me, and just as he was about to grab me, the woman behind him pulled him back and whimpered, "Professor Barnes, my stomach really hurts..."

Yasmin collapsed at Tristan's feet, clutching her belly. "Please take me to the hospital. I don't want anything to happen to our baby..."

Tristan only hesitated for a few seconds before he carried Yasmin up and rushed past me. He shouted, "Yas is at a critical stage in her pregnancy, so I have to prioritize her! Make sure you go to the hospital to get that wound dressed!

"Don't make me worry! I'll find you as soon as I take care of this!"

Soon, they both disappeared from my sight. I pushed Victoria's stroller to the roadside and hailed a cab. "To the National Academy of Sciences."

The driver handed me some tissues after noticing my wound and studied me through the rearview mirror. "Miss, why are you going to the Academy instead of a hospital with that injury? Not just anyone can get in there."

I gazed out the window as the warm air blew through the crack, then replied calmly, "That's my home."

...

Upon arriving at the Academy, I passed through multiple security checkpoints with facial recognition and took the elevator to the top floor. I knocked on the door of the last office in the hallway and entered.

"Rowan, I'm back," I announced.

Rowan Baldwin, the middle-aged man behind the desk, stood up and walked toward me. He reached out to place his hand on my shoulder, but stopped mid-air when he noticed the wound on my temple.

He asked, "Did he do this?"

I didn't reply, but my silence was answer enough.

Rowan sighed heavily before turning to retrieve a document envelope from his drawer. He explained, "I've already arranged everything for the project you mentioned, and my wife, Melanie, has set everything up for you on the other end. Your plane ticket is in the envelope, but..."

He glanced at Victoria, who was sleeping peacefully in her stroller, and gently caressed her face. "Why won't you let me deal with that punk? Are you still in love with him?"

I took out the plane ticket from the envelope. In five hours, I would leave this country and begin a new life.

I replied, "No. Rowan, you've got it wrong. I'll use my own methods to ensure he never recovers from what's coming."