After five years of marriage, I still hadn’t gotten pregnant. My mother-in-law cursed me every day, calling me a useless hen that couldn’t lay eggs.

My husband said his family had carried on the bloodline for five generations, and it couldn’t end with him. He forced me to undergo a series of complicated medical treatments.

Everything went smoothly, and soon I found out I was pregnant.

Just when I was happily preparing for the baby, I overheard a conversation between him and his friend.

"That idiot Claire Bennett still doesn’t know the baby she’s carrying is mine and Isabella’s."

…

My hand froze on the doorknob.

Inside, Ethan Walker’s voice was cold and cruel.

"She thinks those were just routine pre-pregnancy tests. In reality, I used Isabella’s eggs and my sperm for IVF, then implanted the successful embryo into her uterus."

"In four months, Isabella and I will have our baby."

"Damn, Ethan, that’s some next-level thinking."

"I had no choice. Isabella’s the principal dancer in the troupe—if she got pregnant, her career would be over. How could I let her face that?"

"You’ve always been devoted, man—still hung up on Isabella Reed, the beauty queen, all these years."

The so-called beauty queen looked at him with teary-eyed admiration. "That’s why I gave up my career in the United States and came back to be with him."

"Ethan treats me so well. I want to give him a baby, but pregnancy would ruin my figure—my belly would get ugly. I’m afraid he wouldn’t love me anymore."

"You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved. How could I stop loving you?"

"Then why did you marry Claire Bennett?"

"Back then, you insisted on going abroad, so I married her out of spite. But I swore I’d never let another woman bear my child. Claire always thought it was her problem she couldn’t get pregnant, but she’d never imagine I got a vasectomy before we were even married."

Ethan’s voice was full of smug pride.

"Ethan, you’re so good to me!"

"Now, with Claire carrying your baby, you don’t have to worry about losing your figure—you can shine on stage all you want."

"I knew you loved me the most."

She leaned in and kissed my husband without a care.

The friend’s voice grew worried. "I heard Claire had a liver transplant years ago. If you make her have this baby, won’t it… kill her and the child?"

"I asked the doctor—livers can regenerate. Her body can handle pregnancy. When the time comes, I’ll have the best OB-GYN deliver the baby. Nothing will go wrong."

"She’ll need to stay home to care for the baby afterward anyway—why would I let her die on the operating table?"

Those heartless words hit me like a sledgehammer. I stood frozen, my whole body turning cold.

I fled the company in a daze.

Back in my car, I couldn’t stop trembling, tears pouring down my face.

It had all been Ethan Walker’s elaborate deception.

I thought he was sparing me from the pressure of having a baby, that he’d given up our DINK lifestyle out of love.

But it was nothing more than a trap for the woman he truly loved.

The day I found out I was pregnant, the always-distant and aloof Ethan Walker had uncharacteristically spun me around in public, his joy infecting everyone around us.

Now I knew—his happiness came from the fact that he and the woman he loved were having a child together.

And me?

I was nothing but a vessel.

Biting my lip until I tasted blood, I pulled out my phone, dialed a number, and forced back my sobs as I said, "Put all joint projects with Ethan Walker on hold."

Ethan and I had been high school classmates.

When I was eighteen, I accidentally took the wrong cold medicine, which triggered acute liver failure. I was lucky enough to survive thanks to a kind stranger who donated part of their liver.

Donor information was supposed to be strictly confidential, but since my family owned the hospital, I used some connections to find out who it was.

Before then, I only knew Ethan Walker as a top student who’d earned a special scholarship for his outstanding grades.

After learning the truth, I began pursuing him.

I chased Ethan for four years. He treated me well but always refused to be in a relationship.

Then, at our college graduation ceremony, he suddenly proposed to me in front of the entire student body.

Overjoyed and touched, I said yes immediately.

Ignoring my parents’ objections, I left New York with him and moved to Seattle to help him start his business.

I never imagined that the proposal I cherished so dearly was nothing but a petty move to spite the woman he truly loved.

It made the years I had devoted to him without regret seem like the act of a complete fool.

When Ethan graduated, he had nothing—not a penny to his name. But in just five years, he became one of Seattle’s rising tech stars.

He thought it was all thanks to his talent, not realizing that I had been feeding him resources from behind the scenes.

Now, without my support, I’d like to see how long it takes for his true colors to show.

When I returned home that day, I hadn’t even stepped through the door before I heard a crisp, bell-like laugh from inside.

A woman sat on Ethan’s lap, arms wrapped around his neck, laughing so hard she shook.

I stared at his hand resting possessively on her waist, my mind going blank.

In five years of marriage, apart from the routine marital duties in bed, Ethan had never touched me willingly.

I had thought he was simply reserved and shy.

Now I knew—it was just because he didn’t love me.

Faced with the woman he truly adored, he could be tender, clingy, and affectionate.

When they saw me, neither of them showed the slightest guilt.

Ethan said casually, “Perfect timing—you’re back. Go make dinner, we have a guest. Keep it light.”

He spoke to me like a servant giving orders, and I almost forgot that before we were married, I had been a pampered young lady who had never lifted a finger in the kitchen.

The woman on his lap smiled openly and greeted me. “Claire, it’s been a long time. Do you remember me?”

How could I not?

Isabella Reed, Columbia University’s beauty queen.

The dream girl of countless admirers.

And the untouchable “white moonlight” Ethan could never have—until now.

"Don’t get the wrong idea," Isabella said sweetly. "I had a bout of low blood sugar, and Ethan kindly carried me upstairs."

Just looking at the two of them made me feel sick. I ignored them and headed to the bedroom to grab my things and leave.

But when I opened the door, everything inside had changed.

All of my belongings were gone.

Even the bed had been replaced.

I glared at Ethan, my voice shaking with anger. “Do you have anything to say about this?”

"Isabella just got back from abroad. Her place isn’t ready yet, so she’s staying here for a few days. The guest room’s too small for her, so I moved your things there instead."

"You can share it with my mom."

She’s uncomfortable, so I’m the one who has to move out?

I sneered. “Did every hotel in Seattle shut down overnight?”

Isabella’s expression faltered. She bit her lip, eyes welling up with tears. “I didn’t mean to intrude. Ethan told me you wouldn’t mind, but I guess I should leave…”

Seeing her about to go, Ethan panicked.

"Claire Bennett, since when have you been so petty? Isabella’s just staying a few days—do you really have to be so sarcastic?"

"This is my home. I don’t agree to it."

"The house is mine. I decide who lives here. If you don’t like it, you can get out."

A sharp pain pierced my chest.

When he first started his business, he hit wall after wall, struggling so badly that he couldn’t even afford the rent.

I couldn’t bear to see him so discouraged, so I bought this house—and to cheer him up, I even put his name on the deed.

And now, because the title was in his name, he thought he could throw me out.

"Ethan, Claire is still pregnant. Don’t make things harder for her because of me. If she doesn’t like me here, then I’ll leave."

"Pregnant, so what? Don’t think that just because you’ve got something in your belly you can throw your weight around."

"No—you’re not leaving! If anyone goes, it’s her!"

In the middle of their argument, Isabella Reed pressed a hand to her forehead and collapsed in a dainty swoon.

Ethan panicked and shoved me.

My lower back slammed into the edge of the table behind me, and a stabbing pain shot through my abdomen. My face went instantly pale.

"Ethan Walker!" My voice was hoarse. "My stomach… it hurts."

"If your stomach hurts, go see a doctor. What do you want me to do? Isabella’s low blood sugar is acting up again—she needs to rest!"

With that, he scooped her into his arms and rushed her into the bedroom.

Moments later, muffled, intimate sounds drifted out from inside.

In the end, it was a passing neighbor who saw me collapse in the living room and rushed me to the hospital.

When I woke again, Ethan was sitting at my bedside. Seeing my eyes open, he teared up.

"Honey, thank God you’re okay."

I just looked at him in silence.

"I’m sorry. I must have lost my mind earlier—I didn’t mean to lose my temper. Will you forgive me?"

His earlier cruelty was gone, replaced with the familiar façade of the perfect husband.

But all I felt was exhaustion.

"Ethan Walker, let’s get a divorce."

His eyes widened. "Just because I let Isabella stay in the house for a few days, you want to divorce me?"

"Yes."

"Don’t joke around. We have a baby on the way."

His hand reached toward my slightly rounded belly.

Right then, the baby kicked, making him flinch in surprise before his face lit up with joy.

"See? He’s moving. The baby is innocent. Even if you hate me, would you really let him be born without a father?"

"Don’t overthink it. Just give birth safely, and afterward, you can vent your anger however you want, okay?"

The mention of the child only deepened my disgust.

The life growing inside me was the offspring of him and Isabella—someone who had nothing to do with me—yet it greedily drained my body’s strength.

Its very existence was a cruel reminder that I was a living joke.

No wonder Ethan was suddenly being so conciliatory—he still needed me to bring his child into the world.

I was about to speak when a middle-aged woman stormed in, her voice sharp and venomous.

"You heartless woman! You nearly caused my precious grandson to be miscarried!"

It was Ethan’s mother, Martha Walker.

"I went to a master and got this blessed water—it’ll keep my grandson healthy. Drink it now."

The liquid in the bowl was pitch-black and reeked with a nauseating stench. I felt sick before it even came close to my lips.

Over the years, she’d forced me to drink countless bizarre concoctions in hopes of making me pregnant.

Back then, with my heart full of Ethan, I endured the disgust for his sake.

But now, having seen his true face, there was no way I’d drink it.

"Take it away. I’m not drinking that."

"I got this for my grandson—whether you want to or not, you’re drinking it!"

Martha’s eyes bulged with fury as she grabbed my jaw, trying to force it down my throat.