"Ms. Harris, you're already six months pregnant. The baby is fully formed... Are you sure you want to go through with the abortion? The hospital strongly advises against it." The doctor said hesitatingly.

Phoebe Harris instinctively placed a hand over her swollen belly.

Six months. The child had grown inside her, from something no bigger than a grain of rice to the size it was now.

They say a mother and her child share an unspoken bond, and she could feel it too. If she weren't utterly broken inside, what mother would ever have the heart to give up her baby who was about to enter the world?

After a silence that seemed to stretch on forever, Phoebe took a deep breath. Then, with a resolve that left no room for doubt, she said, "I'm sure."

"Ms. Harris, you're already six months pregnant. The baby is fully formed... Are you sure you want to go through with the abortion? The hospital strongly advises against it." The doctor said hesitatingly.

Phoebe Harris instinctively placed a hand over her swollen belly.

Six months. The child had grown inside her, from something no bigger than a grain of rice to the size it was now.

They say a mother and her child share an unspoken bond, and she could feel it too. If she weren't utterly broken inside, what mother would ever have the heart to give up her baby who was about to enter the world?

After a silence that seemed to stretch on forever, Phoebe took a deep breath. Then, with a resolve that left no room for doubt, she said, "I'm sure."

'I'm sorry, baby. I can't bring you into this world. I want you to be born into a loving family, not a life filled with endless lies and bitter hatred,' Phoebe thought sadly.

When she left the hospital, Phoebe looked up and saw the giant electronic screen on the mall across the road. It was playing the press conference held by the Marshal Group yesterday on a continuous loop.

At the press conference, a young reporter had asked Nathan Marshal, "Mr. Marshal, as far as I know, the Marshal Group has always been a giant in the electronics and jewelry industries. Why the sudden shift toward the maternal and infant sector?"

On the screen, Nathan wore a custom-tailored suit. He looked distant and elegant. A faint smile curved his lips as he answered slowly, "Because my wife is pregnant. I don't trust what's available on the market."

The next moment, Phoebe heard a group of girls nearby erupt into excited squeals.

"Oh my God! This is what real love looks like. Nathan is too good to his wife. Other rich husbands buy cars or houses, but he built an entire maternal and infant supply chain just for her."

"Exactly! I heard that when Nathan proposed, he promised he'd never change after marriage. Every year on her birthday, he gives her extravagant gifts like crowns and diamond shoes. One year, he even bought an entire island and built a castle on it just for her."

Listening to their chatter, Phoebe smiled bitterly. Never change, huh?

But Nathan had already changed.

Lost in thought, she barely noticed her phone vibrating. When she checked it, a message from an unknown number appeared on the screen.

[Heya, pregnant hag, guess where your husband is right now?]

Attached was a photo. Phoebe recognized it immediately. It was taken in the underground parking lot of the Marshal Group.

She knew it was a trap. But sometimes, even when you know there is a trap ahead, you still walk straight into it.

Without hesitation, she drove to the Marshal Group headquarters.

In the dimly lit parking lot, Nathan's black Maybach was shaking violently. The people inside clearly had no shame, leaving the window open. A long, pale leg stretched out of the window, wrapped in torn black stockings.

A large hand reached out next, gripping the woman's thigh and squeezing it forcefully.

Then came the woman's sugary voice. "Ah... Master, be gentle. I can't take it."

In the darkness, something bright pierced Phoebe's eyes. It was Nathan's wedding ring. The one she had designed herself, a unique piece in the entire world.

Now, that very ring was on the hand gripping Clara Steele's thigh.

She knew that hand well. It had once slipped a wedding band onto her finger. It had cooked meals for her and held her through long nights. Every morning, the owner of that hand would bend down and kiss her awake.

"Master, you're amazing. I can't take it anymore. Please, have mercy," Clara's honeyed voice cut through her memories.

Phoebe touched her face and realized her tears had already fallen.

She knew Clara had sent the message and photo. She also knew why. If Phoebe, heavily pregnant, caught them in the act and became too emotional, it could easily end in tragedy for both her and her child. That way, Clara could easily swoop in and take her place.

Nice plan, Phoebe thought. But she wasn't going to give Clara the satisfaction.

Silent, she returned to her car and dialed Nathan's number.

He picked up quickly. His voice was slightly uneven. "Phoebe, I'm in a meeting. I can't talk right now. I'll call you back later..."

Before he could finish, Phoebe cut him off coldly. "Be home in ten minutes, or you'll never see me again."

"Phoebe, stop messing around. This meeting is really important," Nathan's voice, unusually flustered, broke through the receiver. "Besides, there's no way I can get home in ten minutes from the office."

Phoebe's response was cold and simple. "Your time starts now."

Then she hung up.

A few minutes later, Clara, half-dressed, was shoved out of the car. Nathan sped off, his Maybach disappearing from the garage in the blink of an eye. That left Clara standing there, humiliated, clutching her belongings against her bare skin.

Phoebe adjusted her seat, settling into a more comfortable position, and turned on her headlights. The bright beam fell directly on Clara.

The darkness hid many things, but light has a way of exposing what shouldn't be seen. Clara, caught off guard, wrapped her arms tightly around herself. "Who? Who's there?!"

Phoebe couldn't be bothered to answer. She simply drove past, her car sweeping smoothly by.

Through the open window, Clara caught a glimpse of Phoebe's cold and striking profile. That was the breaking point. She snapped, screaming after her, "Old hag! Do you really think you've won? Keep dreaming! Your husband is already sick of you. He told me more than once that your flabby body disgusts him!"

The only response was the dirty trail of exhaust fumes.

By the time Phoebe arrived home, Nathan was already in a rage. "What a bunch of useless idiots! You can't even tell me where my wife went. What do I even keep you around for?!"

She stepped into the living room without a word. The moment he saw her, the anger drained from his face. In two long strides, he crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. His voice trembled slightly. "Phoebe, thank God you're here. I thought you really left me. You scared me half to death."

Phoebe tilted her head up, studying his face. Her voice was calm but unreadable. "Are you that afraid I might disappear?"

"Of course," he said without hesitation. "Phoebe, you're the most important person in my life. I can't lose you. And now that you're carrying my child, I need you even more."

His voice was sincere, his gaze deep and affectionate. If Phoebe hadn't just witnessed what happened in the car, she might have believed him.

"Promise me," he whispered, his grip tightening around her hand, his tone raw with desperation. "Never leave me. I can't live without you. If you go, I'll lose my mind."

A sharp, aching pain curled through her chest. With tears stinging her eyes, Phoebe thought bitterly, 'Then why cheat on me?'

He clung to another woman, yet begged her to stay—how much of what he said was true, and how much was just a lie?

Noticing the redness in her eyes, Nathan panicked. "Why are you crying?" His voice softened into a coaxing murmur. "Who upset my Phoebe? Tell me, and I'll make them pay."

Phoebe shook her head. "It's nothing. Just pregnancy hormones acting up."

But Nathan still wasn't reassured. He insisted on calling the family doctor to check on her.

When the doctor arrived, Nathan sat nearby, but his mind was somewhere else. He kept glancing at his phone, and each time he did, the hunger in his eyes grew stronger. It didn't take much for Phoebe to understand—Clara was messaging him.

Her own phone buzzed soon after. It was a text from Clara. [Hey fatty, want to bet I can make your husband leave you for me anytime I want?]

The message had barely registered when Nathan stood up, voice tight with urgency. "Phoebe, something came up at work. I need to go back."

On reflex, Phoebe reached out and caught his hand. "Don't go. My stomach hurts. I'm scared. Can't you stay with me?"

A flicker of hesitation crossed his face. His phone buzzed again. Whatever he read there sealed his decision. Gently, he pulled his hand away, smiling as he tried to soothe her. "Dr. Shannon is here. If anything happens, you're in good hands. Besides, I'm not a doctor. I'm not much help. Be good and listen to him. I'll be back soon."

Without waiting for her response, he turned and left in a rush.

At that moment, something inside Phoebe broke beyond repair.

She swallowed the tears burning her throat, picked up her phone, and sent a message to her brother in the military. [Ian, I want to disappear.]

Phoebe couldn't understand it. How had their relationship come to this?

From the moment she and Nathan met, fell in love, and eventually married, they had always been the couple everyone envied.

When he proposed, holding her hand tightly, he had promised her with such solemn sincerity, "They say men change after marriage, but don't worry, Phoebe. Even after we get married, I won't change. I'll spoil you, indulge you, and make sure you'll always be the princess in our fairy tale."

And after they married, he had kept his word. He treated her with the same devotion as when he had first pursued her. Every day, he sent her flowers and often surprised her with thoughtful gifts. Whatever she wanted appeared on her bedside table the next day without her even needing to ask.

It was as if he could read her mind.

Even her closest friends, the ones who always viewed things with a skeptical eye, praised him, calling him a one-in-a-million husband.

But this one-in-a-million husband had still cheated on her.

Was it really, as Clara had claimed, because her body had changed after she became pregnant? Had her weight gain and stretch marks made her less desirable?

Phoebe lowered her head, gazing at her swollen belly. Faint stretch marks curled across the taut skin.

Ugly. They were ugly. Yet before the pregnancy, she had a slender waist and pale, flawless skin, just like Clara. Her stomach had been flat, without the heavy roundness or the unsightly lines marring her body now.

How ironic. She had been willing to sacrifice her figure and endure all the discomfort of pregnancy to give Nathan a child, and in return, he betrayed her.

"Madam, this is fresh black-bone chicken soup with fish maw. Your mother-in-law said it's good for the baby. Please drink it while it's hot," the housekeeper said, carrying a tray toward her.

Alongside the steaming bowl of soup, there was a plate of shelled walnuts and a heaping dish of grapes.

Her mother-in-law had heard that eating grapes during pregnancy would give the baby large, beautiful eyes, while walnuts were said to boost brain development. Determined to have a smart and adorable grandchild, she had instructed the housekeeper to ensure Phoebe ate them every day. If she didn't, the phone calls would come immediately.

"If you didn't know better, you'd think I was forcing poison down your throat," her mother-in-law had once said, her voice half-joking but sharp beneath the surface. "I'm doing this for my grandson. You're not a young girl anymore, you're a mother-to-be. You can't be selfish. It's not just about your preferences now. You need to think about the baby. I'm doing this for your own good. Don't act like I'm trying to hurt you."

Those words echoed relentlessly in Phoebe's mind. Before, no matter how much she disliked the food, she would have forced herself to eat it just to avoid conflict.

But now—

"Take it away," she said, turning her face to the side. "I'm not hungry."

"Even if you're not hungry, you should still eat. Your mother-in-law had this flown in from overseas. It's organic and supposed to be good for the baby," the housekeeper insisted, pushing the tray closer to her.

Just then, Phoebe's phone vibrated again. Another message from Clara.

She had sent an address, followed by a taunting question. [Hey fatty, dare to come?]

Phoebe tightened her grip on the phone.

There was nothing holding her in this house anymore. She might as well go and see for herself.

She drove in silence, following the address Clara had sent. It led her to an auction house.

Frowning, she wondered why Nathan would choose a public place like this to meet his mistress. But before she could think further, she spotted Clara stepping into the front row, arm-in-arm with an elegant woman draped in expensive jewelry.

That woman was Bethany Marshal—Phoebe's mother-in-law.