Thanks to my IQ of 140, Richard Gilbert hand-picked me himself. He had me sign a contract with one purpose: marry his son, produce an heir. So I became Ethan Gilbert's wife in name.

Seven years of marriage. My belly never showed a thing.

Ethan, on the other hand? In those same seven years, he got eighteen different women pregnant.

Every single day, I watched the nanny carry in abortion notices—stacks of them, thick as snowflakes.

I couldn't take it anymore. I went to find Ethan myself.

"Let's get a divorce."

He looked at me, utterly bored. "What game are you playing now?"

I met his calm, indifferent gaze. This time, I didn't cry. Didn't scream. I just shook my head.

"No game."

After seven years of trying to earn that bride price Richard paid for me, I'd already crushed my own pride into dust.

I once clung to Ethan's leg, sobbing, begging him to stop sleeping around. Begging him to care about me—even just a little.

Every single time, he looked down at me from above and said three words:

"Are you worthy?"

Then walked out the door.

So really—shouldn't I just admit defeat already?

——

When yet another pregnant woman showed up at our doorstep, something in me just... gave out.

Not anger. Not sadness. Just bone-deep exhaustion.

Seven years of the same scene on repeat. When pain hits its limit, all that's left is numbness.

Ethan arrived fast. He didn't look at the woman standing off to the side—didn't let her linger. Just told his assistant to see her out. Never spared her a second glance.

He walked straight to me, took a velvet box from his assistant, and held it out. His voice was almost soft.

"Alex. Don't be upset."

"Look—so many women can carry my child, but you're still the young madam of the Gilbert family. No one can take that from you."

His words were like needles, pricking into my chest one by one.

I glanced at the velvet box. Didn't need to open it. Another gemstone worth a fortune.

His signature move. Every time he knocked someone up, he bought my silence with compensation.

The jokes about me had spread through every circle we ran in. Shrewd, they called me. The real winner in this marriage.

All those mistresses scheming to get pregnant, ending up with nothing—while I just sat back and reaped the benefits.

But they didn't know I was done. Completely done.

I said it quietly:

"Ethan. Let's get a divorce."

The word divorce made him pause. Then he laughed, low and mocking.

"Divorce? Alex Simmons, what tantrum is this? You're the one who took a million-dollar contract and sold yourself to the Gilbert family. And now you want out? Could you really walk away from all this?"

His fingertips traced down my cheek.

"High IQ. Pretty face. You were always the perfect match for me. So why not just behave and stay Mrs. Gilbert?"

His words dragged me back seven years.

Grandma had collapsed. The medical bills were astronomical. I'd just graduated—I had nothing.

Right when I was about to break, I scrolled past a video. Richard Gilbert, publicly advertising for a daughter-in-law.

The posting spelled out every requirement: IQ, appearance. Promised generous compensation.

I had no other options. So I went to him.

Maybe I checked all the boxes. The moment Richard saw me, his face lit up. Without a word, he handed over one million dollars and solved my crisis on the spot.

I'd carried this debt for seven years, willing to spend all that time repaying it—yet I still never fulfilled the contract's requirement of getting pregnant.

I knew the truth in my heart: a family like the Gilberts would eventually need an heir.

And I just couldn't give them that.

Now that seven years had passed, I had no reason to keep occupying the position of Mrs. Gilbert and delay the family line.

I pulled out my phone and found Richard's contact:

"Chairman Gilbert, thank you for saving my life seven years ago. I've already repaid the one million in full. I want to leave the Gilbert family. I hope you'll grant it."

Shortly after sending, Richard replied.

Just one line:

"You've thought it through?"

My fingertips paused, but I still typed:

"I've thought it through."

His response came quickly:

"Since you've decided, I respect your choice."

When I put my phone away, I met Ethan's puzzled gaze. He frowned. "Who were you texting?"

I shook my head slightly and didn't explain.

After all these years, no matter what I said, he never cared.

Seeing I wouldn't answer, he didn't push—just added flatly, "My dad's 60th birthday is in two days. Be there on time."

I didn't respond, but I'd already made my decision.

Richard had always treated me well. Even if I'd decided to leave, attending his birthday was something I owed him.

I'd treat it as the last time I celebrated with him. One final repayment.

That afternoon, I went out specifically to pick a gift for Richard's banquet.

I remembered he'd always loved collecting famous paintings. The rare pieces in his study were all things he'd gone to great lengths to acquire.

With that in mind, I drove to a private gallery on the west side of the city, where works by a renowned traditional painting master were being sold.

Once the owner learned why I was there, he enthusiastically brought out a new piece by the master—pines and cranes symbolizing longevity. The meaning was perfect for a birthday gift.

I studied it carefully. It really would suit Richard's taste. Just as I was about to pay, the gallery door swung open.

Two familiar figures walked in—Ethan and Victoria Donaldson.

Among Ethan's many lovers, Victoria wasn't the most stunning, but she was the most persistent.

She was the only woman who'd had three abortions for him and still stayed by his side.

Right now, she was leaning against him, her lower belly slightly rounded—clearly pregnant again.

Ethan's gaze landed on the painting in my hands. The owner had just stepped forward to introduce it when Ethan spoke, his tone commanding:

"We'll take this painting."

He handed the owner a bank card, then turned to me. "Alex, pick another one."

I kept my expression cold and said nothing.

Victoria's voice came out sweet and delicate. "Alex, let me have it. This painting can be the first blessing the baby sends to Grandpa."

The owner had already run the card. Victoria stepped forward, reaching for the painting in my hands.

I gripped it tighter, about to refuse—but she leaned in and whispered, her voice low enough for only me to hear:

"Alex, aren't you curious why you've been with Ethan for seven years and still can't get pregnant?"

My heart clenched. A terrible premonition washed over me.

Seeing my face go pale, her smile turned smug.

"Because every time after you two finish, Ethan slips you birth control pills."

"Seven years. Not a single time missed."

Her words exploded in my ear like a thunderclap, and all the blood in my body seemed to freeze solid.

"He said only I'm worthy of carrying his child. A woman like you who sells herself for money isn't worthy at all."

Isn't worthy. The words stabbed into my heart like poison-tipped needles.

Seven years of grievance and anger erupted in an instant.

I couldn't hold back anymore. I raised my hand to slap her.

But before the slap could land, a hand caught my wrist.

Ethan stepped in front of Victoria, his brows drawn tight.

My gaze traveled up his arm and landed on the faint scar exposed at his neck. I froze.

That was from seven years ago. Grandma had just gotten sick, and the loan sharks I'd borrowed from came to collect. They blocked my door, came at me with a knife, about to cut me down.

He appeared out of nowhere and threw himself in front of me without hesitation.

That scar was from that day.

It felt like a hand was squeezing my heart—aching, sour.

The man who once took a blade for me... how had he become this?

He'd personally destroyed my chance to become a mother. Used it as leverage to humiliate me. Made me waste seven years of my youth living as a joke.

Looking at the scene before me, I suddenly felt it was all meaningless.

What was the point of fighting over this painting? It would only add more embarrassment.

I slowly loosened my grip. "Forget it. If you want it, take it."

I didn't look at either of them again. I turned and left.

On the day of the birthday banquet, I arrived at Gilbert Mansion on time.

I deliberately avoided the front hall, planning to wait until the banquet officially began before going in to congratulate Uncle Richard. But I still ran into Ethan and Victoria at the entrance.

He was holding her hand, the two of them walking over side by side.

The moment they appeared, every eye in the vicinity turned to look.

Curiosity. But even more—undisguised mockery.

"Ethan bringing the pregnant Victoria—isn't this just grinding Alex's face into the dirt?"

"I heard she only married into the Gilbert family because she took money. Pitiful, sure, but seven years without getting pregnant and she still wouldn't let go of her position. She brought this on herself."

I took a deep breath and walked past them, my face expressionless. I ignored the whispers. Didn't look at either of them once.

When I reached the banquet hall, I caught a distant glimpse of Chairman Gilbert in the seat of honor. His gaze landed on me, something complicated flickering in his eyes.

I gave a slight nod, then found a corner seat and sat down, quietly waiting for the banquet to end.

Not long after, Victoria held Ethan's hand and walked straight toward me.

The surrounding chatter gradually died down. All eyes followed, hungry for a spectacle.

She stopped in front of me. A flicker of awkwardness crossed her face, one hand still pressed protectively over her lower belly. She nudged Ethan, signaling for him to speak.

He frowned, then looked at me. After a moment of silence, he finally said:

"Alex, I want Victoria to keep this child."

He stared at me intently, probably waiting for me to explode into hysterical rebuttals like before.

After all, over the past seven years, every woman who got pregnant with his child was someone I personally escorted to the hospital for an abortion—without exception.

After a pause, perhaps seeing that I didn't immediately blow up, he added:

"Victoria's already had three abortions for me. The doctor said if she has another one, she might never be able to get pregnant again."