James hurried in behind us.

“This is Uncle Lucas, and that’s your cousin. Noah, say hello.”

“Hello,” Noah said obediently, then shifted his gaze to Ethan.

Ethan slid down from my arms and looked around the hospital room with open curiosity.

His eyes drifted to the bedside table, and suddenly they lit up.

“That pendant looks so familiar!”

I followed his line of sight.

The necklace clasp had a special magnetic design.

I had commissioned a craftsman to make it because Ethan kept losing his things.

“That’s my—”

Ethan raised his hand to point.

James had already stepped quickly to the bedside and removed the pendant in one swift motion.

“It’s just a child’s trinket, a cheap imitation.”

He smiled, but his fingers tightened firmly around the pendant. “Noah hasn’t been well, so I bought him one.”

“Is that so?” I asked softly.

I remembered clearly the day that the pendant had disappeared.

Ethan had come home from kindergarten in tears, saying he had lost it.

We had searched the entire house.

In the end, Serena had gathered him into her arms and said, “I’ll buy you a better one.”

At the time, I had been preoccupied with a project and paid little attention.

Now that I thought about it, Serena had come home early that day.

Ethan looked up at me.

“Dad, that one really looks like mine…”

“Yours is at home, Ethan.”

I stroked his hair and turned to James.

“What is Noah in here for?”

“Polycystic kidney disease.” James lowered his voice.

“The doctor said… a transplant would be best.”

“I see.” I nodded.

“Then we won’t disturb you. Get some rest.”

As I stepped out of the room, I heard Noah ask softly, “Dad, when is Mom coming…?”

The door closed behind me, cutting off the rest of his words.

I took Ethan’s hand and walked down the long corridor.

My stride remained even, and my hands did not tremble.

But inside my chest, something frozen, the sensation spreading to the rest of my body.

Back at the car, I fastened Ethan’s seatbelt and turned on his favorite cartoon.

“Dad needs to make a phone call. Stay here and watch for a while, okay?”

“Okay.”

Ethan nodded obediently.

I walked to a quiet corner of the hospital garden and called my assistant, Liam Cole.

“Mr. Drake?”

“Liam,” I said, my voice unnervingly calm, “look into Serena. The past five years—no, seven. I want all her bank transactions, travel records, and call logs.

“Pay special attention to anything connected to Rivershire City. And investigate a man named James Carter.

“I want the full report within three days.”

…

I took Ethan home.

When I pushed open the front door, the motion-sensor light in the entryway glowed softly.

Our family portrait hung on the wall, the one taken on Ethan’s third birthday.

I held him in my arms, and Serena leaned gently against my shoulder.

Everything looked perfect.

So perfect it made my head ache.

“Dad, I’m hungry.”

Ethan tugged at the hem of my shirt.

“Okay. Let me make something for you.”

I bent down to change my shoes, my movements smooth, as if rehearsed countless times.

Through the blurred glass, I saw the basketball hoop in the yard.

I had installed it myself when Ethan was two.

Serena had said, “I want to build a little world for our son where he can play basketball whenever he wants.”

She had worked late into the night that day, rubbing her hands raw with blisters.

As I applied ointment to her palms, I scolded her for being foolish.

She had only smiled and said, “If my husband and child want something, I’ll make sure they have it.”

We had been so good then.

We met in college.

She had been a poor student with nothing to her name, and I had been the son of the wealthiest family in Rivershire.

Everyone said we weren’t a match.

But Serena, with sheer stubbornness, carved out her own place in the world.

She had said, “Lucas, I want to prove to your father that I am worthy of you.”

On the day she proposed, she booked the entire theater.

Hundreds of performers acted out our story on stage, ending with the question, “Lucas, will you marry me?”

At that time, she had only been running her business for three years, and the proposal nearly emptied all her savings.

I had ached at the thought of such waste.

She had knelt on one knee, holding up the ring.

“Compared to everything you’ve done for me, what is this?”

I slid the ring onto my finger.

After our wedding, I managed her company while taking care of our home.

I reviewed every contract she signed and accompanied her to every important client meeting.

The company had reached its current scale with half her talent and half my effort.

I thought that was the most beautiful form of love—growing from campus romance to wedding vows, building something from nothing, fighting side by side.

But now?

Pasta steamed in the pot as I mechanically stirred the mushrooms.

“Dad, the food’s going to burn.”

Ethan’s voice pulled me back to reality.

I turned off the heat and plated the dishes.

Just then, the door clicked.

Serena had returned.

“It smells amazing.”

“I made your favorite,” I said, turning back to the kitchen to grab utensils.

She followed, naturally taking a plate from my hands.

The instant our fingers touched, I almost pulled back.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing… a little hot,” I forced a smile.

The dining table was quiet, filled only with the clatter of forks on plates.

“By the way,” I said casually, “today I took Ethan for his checkup and ran into something strange.”

Serena paused mid-bite. “What happened?”

“The nurse said Ethan needed a kidney donor match test, that you had specifically added the option.”

I looked up at her, smiling gently.

“I was wondering which of our family members might need a kidney. So I asked at the nurse’s station, and guess what?”

Serena swallowed.

“I saw a form—the patient’s name was Noah Vaughn, and the family signature was yours.”

I smiled warmly at her.

“I thought it might be a relative’s child, so I went to the room. There I saw a man named James Carter, saying he was your distant cousin?”

Serena’s expression froze.

“How do you know about them?” Her voice was dry.

“I’m just concerned about you,” I said, offering her another serving.

“Your cousin brings a child here for treatment. Something this big—why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped smooth things with the hospital.”

She visibly relaxed.

“Ah… I just didn’t want to tire you out.”

She looked down at her plate.

“Your schedule with the company is busy enough, and you handle the house too. I thought I could manage distant relatives myself.”

A watertight explanation.

If it weren’t for Noah’s face, I might have actually believed her.

“I see,” I said with a smile, not pressing further.

After dinner, Serena went to the shower. Water gushed steadily.

Her phone lit up again.

I walked over. On the screen was a preview of WhatsApp notifications:

James: [Your husband came today, I’m so scared.

[Will he hurt our child?

[When are you coming to see Noah? He says he misses his Mom.]

The shower was silent.

I stepped back quickly and sank onto the sofa.

Serena came out, drying her hair, and froze when she saw me.

“Not asleep yet?”

“Waiting for you,” I said with a smile.

She glanced at her phone, her expression unreadable, though her fingers moved quickly across the screen.

Before bed, she pressed a kiss to my cheek.

That gesture had once made my heart flutter. Now, it felt hollow.

My phone vibrated in my pocket.

I pulled it out—it was a file from Liam.

I opened it.

The first page was a timeline.

Seven years ago, Serena went on her first business trip to Rivershire City.

Six years ago, she spent an entire year on business there.

That same year, Noah was born.

On the birth certificate, the mother’s column was blank, but the emergency contact listed Serena’s phone number.

Four years ago, three years ago, two years ago…

Every year, she made multiple trips to Rivershire.

Each trip left expense records, each one included transfers to James.

Serena and I got married six years ago.

Ethan turned five this year, and Noah six.

While I had thought we were building a future together, she had long since built another family.

The phone vibrated again.

Liam sent another message:

[There’s one more thing, Mr. Drake. The night you had your heart surgery, Ms. Serena was with James for his birthday.]

…

I stared at the words, and the world around me fell silent.

I remembered every detail of that night.

A sudden acute myocarditis had struck me.

The situation was critical, so the doctors scheduled an emergency heart surgery.

As I signed the pre-op forms, my hand trembled so badly I could barely write.

“Where’s my wife?” I asked.

The nurse’s face was full of sympathy. “Mr. Drake, Mrs. Drake had urgent company matters. She’ll be back soon.”

Even as the anesthesia began to take hold on the operating table, I thought—when she arrived, I would give her a piece of my mind.

When I woke up, the first thing I saw was Serena sitting by my hospital bed, her eyes red, gripping my hand, and apologizing over and over.

“I’m sorry, Lucas… I deserve this… I really deserve this…”

She slapped her own face, the sound sharp and loud.

Even the nurses couldn’t stand it and came over to hold her.

At that moment, my heart softened.

I even comforted her in return.

“It’s okay. I’m fine, aren’t I?”

She said, “I’ll never do it again. I swear, for the rest of my life, I won’t let you face these things alone.”

So that was the truth.

“Dad?”

Ethan’s sleepy voice came from his room.

I snapped back to reality, noticing my hand trembling, almost dropping my phone.

Ethan rubbed his eyes and sat up. “I had a bad dream…”

“It’s okay. Dad’s here.”

I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled him into my arms.

His body was soft, and he smelled of baby powder.

This was my precious son, the one I cherished most in the world.

And his mother… wanted to use his health to save another child.

Hatred spiraled like a poisonous vine from the depths of my heart, wrapping tightly around my chest until I could barely breathe.

When I returned to our bedroom, Serena was already asleep.

I climbed into bed and looked at her sleeping face.

My hand moved on its own, rising—and then—

*Smack!*

The crisp sound of a slap exploded in the quiet room.

Serena woke up with a start, covering her face. “What’s wrong?!”

I looked at my hand, then at the rapidly reddening mark on her cheek, and slowly smiled.

“I saw a mosquito on your face… forgot my strength.”

She froze for a few seconds.

Her shock softened into confusion, then finally resigned amusement. “You… how did you get so rough?”

She lay back down and reached out to pull me close.

“Sleep,” she mumbled, and quickly drifted off again.