"Mildred, you're carrying our baby—is this your Valentine's gift to me? I love it so much."

I froze, my gaze dropping to that worn, dog-eared test result.

Dominic grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the door, his voice brimming with the excitement of a first-time father.

"Come on, let's go pick out baby clothes and a crib right now."

I didn't move. My voice came out cold—terrifyingly so.

"Dominic, we're broke. We can't afford a child."

His spine went rigid. He'd finally remembered the bankruptcy charade he'd so carefully constructed.

Panic flickered in his eyes. He crouched down, pressing his face to my belly, and spoke with forced conviction.

"Just give me a few more days. Things might turn around soon."

A dense, stinging ache spread through my chest. I pulled my lips into a bitter smile, watching his pathetic performance.

A shrill ringtone shattered the moment.

I caught a glimpse of the name flashing on his screen: Kitten.

Acid churned in my stomach.

Dominic silenced the call and flashed me a smile.

"Babe, the little cake I ordered for you is here. I'll run down and grab it—wait for me."

He didn't even glance my way before rushing out.

Tears flooded my eyes. I stood in the doorway.

From the dark stairwell landing came the sound of breathless moaning—and Dominic's low, teasing voice.

"Didn't I just satisfy you? Why are you here again?"

"I'm warning you—my wife is pregnant now. You can't come looking for me anymore. If she finds out and it affects the baby, I won't let you off easy."

A girl's kittenish whimper drifted up, her voice so sweet it could melt bone.

"How won't you let me off? Keep me in bed forever? Make sure I can never leave you?"

His breathing grew heavier. Then came the sound of stumbling footsteps.

I clenched my fists, wanting to storm out and demand answers. Why had he betrayed me?

All these years of marriage, I'd used every connection my parents left me to build him into the respected Mr. Thorne everyone admired.

When his funding fell through, I sold every piece of my dowry and every memento my parents had left behind without a second thought.

Even after he pretended to go bankrupt, I stayed. Through every storm, I stood by his side.

I even gave up the baby I'd wanted so desperately.

I wanted to cut open his chest and see for myself—was his heart made of stone?

The clock on the wall ticked. Rain poured outside.

The ceiling grew damp, water seeping through. The whole room felt cold and hollow.

One in the morning. Dominic still wasn't home.

Three in the morning. Still no sound at the door.

I laughed at myself. I couldn't believe I'd still held out hope for him.

Four in the morning. My phone buzzed.

Even I didn't notice how desperately I grabbed for it.

But the screen didn't show an explanation for his absence. It showed a photo—intimate, unmistakable.

Dominic had his arm around a slender waist, fingers working at the clasp of her bra.

Suddenly I remembered our first time together.

He'd kissed my lips so tenderly, placed my palm over his heart, and whispered his promise.

"Mildred, my heart beats only for you. I will never betray you. You're the one I love most in this life."

Those words, once so full of devotion, now felt like a slap across my face.

They finally woke me up.

I dug out a phone number I'd sworn never to use again and typed a message.

"Uncle Raymond, I've changed my mind. I'm ready to come home and stay by Grandmother's side."

The reply came quickly. Just one word.

"Good."

Five years ago, my entire family opposed my marriage to Dominic Thorne.

My parents refused to let me marry a penniless nobody with no family background.

Grandmother tried gentle persuasion, warning me that in this world, only money never changes. Promises, no matter how sincere, fade with time—dissolving into nothing but empty bubbles.

I ignored them all and eloped with Dominic anyway.

Grandmother's blood pressure spiked so severely she nearly died.

Yet I was too afraid to visit her—terrified they'd lock me away and keep me from seeing Dominic.

I laughed bitterly and slapped myself hard across the face.

I sat motionless by the bed for an entire day and night before Dominic finally came home at five in the afternoon.

He carried a pot of steaming chicken soup, nuzzling his face against my neck.

"Had to pull an all-nighter at the construction site. It was so sudden I didn't get a chance to explain. My darling wife won't hold it against me, will she?"

I shook my head calmly, pulling away from his touch.

The cloying sweetness of perfume clinging to him made my stomach turn.

Satisfied that I wasn't angry, Dominic let out a long breath of relief.

He poured a bowl of the fragrant soup, blowing on it to cool it down before lifting it to my lips.

"Now that we have a baby on the way, we need to be extra careful about everything. You need proper nutrition."

My eyes fixed on the faint red marks peeking out from beneath his collar. I let out a silent, scornful laugh and took the soup.

His eyes curved into crescents, filled with anticipation.

"Is it good?"

I rested my hand on my belly and answered softly.

"It's good."

Love spilled from Dominic's eyes—but in that moment, I couldn't tell how much of it was real.

If he knew that the lie he'd told to reunite with his first love had killed his child...

Would he even grieve?

Night deepened. Fireworks bloomed brilliant outside the window.

Dominic took my hand, his other arm hovering protectively over my stomach.

"It's Valentine's Day. Let's go for a walk."

I shot him an amused glance.

"Not busy today?"

The first Valentine's Day after the bankruptcy, I scrubbed greasy dishes in a restaurant kitchen, worrying about rent—while he accompanied Clementine on shopping sprees across the city.

The second Valentine's Day, debt collectors cornered me in my cramped rental. They broke my wrist. He was with Clementine, chasing the Northern Lights in Norway.

The third Valentine's Day, I'd finally scraped together some money from delivery runs and bought discounted steaks for a candlelit dinner at home. He spent the night learning to cook Clementine's favorite foie gras from a Michelin chef. He never came home.

...

Dominic finally had time for me now.

But I no longer wanted it.

A cool breeze stirred my hair as Dominic led me through a narrow alley.

From deep within came a girl's piercing scream.

Dominic's spine went rigid. We both recognized that voice.

Clementine.

He dropped my hand instinctively and sprinted into the darkness.

I patted my pockets, cursing myself for forgetting my keys. I had no choice but to follow.

Clementine cowered in a corner, tears glistening in her eyes. Dominic's expression turned savage as he threw a punch that sent a man stumbling backward.

He was like a man possessed—each blow harder than the last, his voice trembling with barely contained rage.

"Who gave you the nerve to touch her?"

I didn't miss the flash of triumph in Clementine's eyes.

She preened like a proud peacock, showing off the massive diamond on her ring finger and the latest Hermès bag draped over her arm.

None of that mattered to me.

My nails dug deep into my palms. My gaze locked onto the jade pendant hanging at Clementine's throat.

My mother's favorite necklace.

I still remembered exactly how much it sold for—three million dollars.

The startup capital for Dominic's first business.

Rage surged straight to my brain. That was my mother's—I had to get it back.

I rushed at Clementine and yanked the pendant from her neck.

She let out a soft cry of pain.

Dominic was on his feet instantly, shoving me aside, his brow furrowed in rebuke.

"Mildred, what do you think you're doing?"

I didn't want a confrontation with him. I clutched the pendant tight in my palm and turned to leave.

I could give up anything else.

But my mother's pendant—that, I had to take back.

Behind me came Clementine's faint sobbing. Then a heavy hand landed on my shoulder.

I met Dominic's cold gaze.

He held out his hand toward me.

"Mildred, we don't take other people's things."

Hearing those shameless words, I laughed until tears spilled from my eyes. My voice cracked as I confronted him.

"Other people's things? Dominic, this was my mother's. Her keepsake."

Clementine tugged weakly at Dominic's arm, tears falling like broken strings of pearls, pattering against the floor.

"It's alright, don't make things hard for her. Without the pendant, I'll just have trouble sleeping, that's all. Consider it my gift to her—a little something for our first meeting."

I bit down so hard I tasted blood. My vision blurred with unshed tears.

"You're claiming this belongs to you? Do I need to remind you? This was my mother's keepsake. I only sold it because I had no choice—to support Dominic's startup—"

Dominic's eyes darkened like still water. He cut me off, his voice sharp with wounded pride.

"Enough! Mildred, how many times are you going to throw your contributions in my face?"

"And what about my efforts? Without me, do you think you'd have had those good years?"

I lowered my gaze, forcing back the tears.

Good years? Three months after Dominic and I married, his company declared bankruptcy.

All I knew was that during those years, when I got sick, I didn't dare go to the hospital. I worked odd jobs around the clock. I couldn't bring myself to buy new clothes, get my hair done, or eat anything but the cheapest food.

And Clementine? Designer labels head to toe. Sleek, glossy black hair. A face pampered to porcelain perfection.

A sharp pain shot through my palm. Dominic was prying my fingers open by force.

Blood dripped from between them, falling drop by drop.

The man who used to tear up if I so much as nicked my finger—that same man was now making me bleed with his own hands.

Dominic wrenched the pendant free. The momentum sent me crashing to the ground. A stabbing pain lanced through my lower abdomen.

He moved to help me up, a flicker of concern crossing his face—but Clementine caught his hand.

Dominic handed the pendant to her. The moment she took it, her fingers opened.

I watched the pendant fall, and a scream tore from my throat.

"No—"

But it shattered against the ground, splitting cleanly in two.

I crawled toward it, broken, gathering the pieces into my hands.

Dominic scooped Clementine into his arms, pressing his hand over the bleeding wound on her calf, and hurried away.

Just before they disappeared around the corner, he glanced back and said softly:

"Mildred, wait here for me. Once I get her to the hospital, I'll come back for you."

I tried desperately to piece the pendant back together, but no matter what I did, it wouldn't be whole again.

The sky opened up, and rain began to fall.

I sat slumped on the ground, sobbing.

At some point, an umbrella appeared over my head.

I looked up, crying so hard I could barely breathe.

"Uncle Raymond Fox, Mom's going to blame me. She's definitely going to blame me."

He simply took off his jacket and wrapped it around me, patting my back gently.

"No, she won't. She loved you so much. She would never blame you."

I buried my face against his chest, looking up at him pleadingly.

"There has to be a way to fix it, right?"

Uncle Raymond guided me into the car and drove straight to the airport.

I clutched the broken pendant, my heart gone completely cold, and sent Dominic a message.

"Dominic, I want a divorce."

The Restaurant Ownern I sent him a photo of the abortion record.

"Your lies killed your own child."

Once that was done, I snapped my SIM card in half and tossed it out the window.

At that same moment, Dominic had just dropped Clementine off at the hospital when an inexplicable unease gripped him.

He fumbled for his phone and opened it—just in time to see my messages.