My Unborn Baby Warned Me Escape Your Cheating Husband

My husband's childhood sweetheart claimed to suffer from "Social Avoidance Disorder"—a convenient condition that only seemed to flare up around me.

"Katherine, the Crawford family is built on charity and humility," Damien had lectured, his voice dripping with condescension. "You need to understand propriety. Just because you're pregnant doesn't mean you deserve special treatment."

With a dismissive wave, he banished me from the master suite to the cramped servants' quarters.

"I've donated your household allowance to charity," he added coldly. "I'm a philanthropist, Katherine. It's time you set a good example, too."

From that day on, the Crawford estate was stripped of its staff. I was left to fend for myself.

Bianca Winters, his beloved childhood friend, appointed herself my "exclusive nutritionist." Under her care, I was allowed only one meal a day. I withered away, collarbones jutting like jagged rocks against pale skin, starving while carrying the Crawford heir.

I didn't argue. I didn't ask for a divorce.

I endured it all for one reason: at three months pregnant, I began to hear the voice of the child growing inside me.

Mom, hang in there. Once I'm born, the suffering will end. We'll make them pay for everything they've done!

That tiny, determined voice gave me the strength to survive until the seventh month. But my resilience shattered the night I overheard Bianca and my husband.

"Damien, she's already seven months along. Isn't it time?"

I froze outside the study door.

"Fine." Damien's voice was ice-cold. "But drag it out until the due date. I want my parents to watch her miscarry with their own eyes."

——

Hunger had woken me at two in the morning, driving me to scavenge in the kitchen. Now, standing in the shadows, the clarity of their cruelty made my blood run cold.

"Is the medicine ready?" Damien asked.

Bianca laughed softly. "It's been ready for ages. A slow-acting poison. A little in her soup every day. By her due date... two corpses for the price of one."

My knees buckled. I grabbed the wall to keep from collapsing, breath hitching in my throat.

"Good," Damien sneered. "Ever since I can remember, my parents have controlled my life. My school, my major, my friends... even my wife. They forced Katherine Kaufman on me. Now I'm going to let them watch their 'perfect daughter-in-law' fail to keep the Crawford bloodline alive."

Bianca cooed, sickly sweet. "Damien, don't be angry. This is Katherine's fault. She has no self-respect. She refuses to learn propriety and shamelessly clings to you."

"Mm," Damien grunted.

"You're brilliant, you know," Bianca continued smugly. "Using my 'disorder' to guilt-trip her into submission. It worked perfectly."

She scoffed. "She thinks being a rich man's wife is easy. If I can't have it, what right does she have?"

The truth hit me like a physical blow.

This marriage wasn't a partnership—it was an act of rebellion. From the beginning, I was nothing more than a tool Damien used to punish his parents.

Tears welled in my eyes. I bit my lip until I tasted copper, refusing to make a sound.

Suddenly, the small voice echoed in my mind.

Mom, don't cry. They aren't worth your tears.

My hand flew to my belly, cradling the swell instinctively.

Seven months.

I had nicknamed him An'an, praying for a life of peace and safety. But now, his own father was plotting his execution.

The wet sound of kissing drifted from the study, followed by the rustle of clothing.

Bile rose in my throat. It wasn't hunger anymore—it was pure revulsion.

I stumbled backward, fleeing to the servants' room as fast as my trembling legs would carry me. Once inside, I collapsed onto the narrow bed.

"An'an, what should I do?" I whispered into the darkness, tears streaming down my face.

I had swallowed every insult, endured every humiliation, hoping for a peaceful life. Yet they still wanted us dead.

Mom, find Grandpa and Grandma. They're the only ones who can save us...

The baby's voice was calm, grounding me.

He was right.

My in-laws—Damien's parents. They arranged this marriage. They were powerful, and they cared about the Crawford lineage. They would protect us.

Thump. Thump.

Footsteps approached outside.

Panic surged through me. I scrambled under the thin blanket, pulling it to my chin and squeezing my eyes shut.

The door creaked open.

Even with my eyes closed, I felt the weight of a gaze bearing down on me. Bianca stood in the doorway.

"You heard us just now, didn't you?" Her voice cut through the silence, sharp and menacing.

A chill ran down my spine. I forced my breathing to stay even, feigning deep sleep, praying she wouldn't see me tremble.