Amelie sat on the edge of the bed in the VIP room, looking out the window.

Just then, the door opened, and Elon Hayes walked in, wearing a mask of guilt.

He walked to her bedside and reached for her hand. She flinched away, pulling her hand back.

Elon sighed, launching into his usual script of emotional manipulation. "Amelie, I know you're upset. Jasmine and I... it was a mistake. I had too much to drink."

Amelie finally looked at him, her eyes filled with undisguised mockery. "A mistake? A mistake that got her pregnant with your child?"

Elon's expression tightened for a second before he replaced it with a look of profound sorrow. "It was for my parents. You know how much they want an heir, and we've been married for three years..."

In the eyes of Elon's parents, the blame for this childless marriage fell entirely on her.

Amelie smiled bitterly: "So, you found a surrogate? Elon, you truly are a devoted son to the Hayes family."

His face hardened. "I never wanted to hurt you. I'll make it up to you, Amelie. Just accept this child, and you will still be Mrs. Hayes."

Amelie looked at the man before her, feeling increasingly disgusted: "You think too highly of yourself, and too little of me."

A soft knock sounded at the door, but before anyone could answer, Jasmine pushed it open and walked in, holding a thermal soup container.

She ignored Amelie, walking straight to Elon's side. "Elon, I made you some soup," she cooed, deliberately showcasing her role as a caring partner. "The doctor said you need to rest."

Elon frowned but didn't push her away. Jasmine placed the container on the bedside table, sizing up Amelie.

She stroked her stomach and smiled sweetly at Amelie. "Sister, I know this is hard for you to accept right now. But for the sake of the Hayes family bloodline, I hope you can be more understanding."

Elon tried to mediate. "Jasmine, you should go. I need to talk to Amelie."

But Jasmine's eyes immediately filled with tears. "I'm just worried about you... And I wanted to explain to my sister. I'm not trying to break up your family. I just want a name for my child."

She turned to Amelie, her expression a perfect picture of innocence, "After all, this child is the sole heir to the Hayes family."

A lie, declared with such righteous conviction, was a direct insult to her intelligence.

Amelie fixed her gaze on Jasmine's stomach, and she spoke each word with chilling precision: "Is that so? Are you certain he's the Hayes family heir?"

Jasmine's triumphant expression flickered, but she quickly composed herself.

Jasmine puffed out her chest. "Of course! I have Elon's love as proof!"

Amelie's gaze shifted from Jasmine to Elon, "Elon, is this your choice?"

Caught between the two women, Elon chose the lie that promised him an heir. He remained silent.

And his silence was the only answer Amelie needed.

Her heart, which had already been fractured, now turned to dust.

She threw back the covers, put on her shoes, and got up to leave.

Elon moved to block her. "Where are you going?"

Amelie looked at him, "To get some fresh air. Somewhere without liars and whores."

Jasmine shrieked, "Who are you calling a whore?"

Amelie gave her a dismissive glance, not bothering to waste another word on her.

Just as she opened the door, she bumped into someone head-on.

Brennen Howell, his tall frame filling the space.

His deep blue eyes swept over the three people in the room, finally landing on Amelie's defiant face.

Elon frowned, annoyed by this uninvited intrusion. "Who are you?"

Brennen ignored him. He walked directly to Amelie's side. "Peyton sent me. Are you okay?"

It took Amelie a moment to place him. This was her best friend Peyton's older brother, Brennen Howell. She'd met him once, years ago at a party, but barely remembered him.

Jasmine, seeing another handsome, powerful man defending Amelie, interjected jealously, "Who are you? This is a family matter!"

Brennen's gaze fell on her, cold and dismissive, the authority in his stare making Jasmine instinctively shut her mouth.

Jasmine gritted her teeth viciously, feeling entirely stripped of her dignity. She figured that since Amelie was already injured, she might as well deliberately provoke her emotions to make her suffer even more.

Taking a step forward, Jasmine sneered viciously, "A woman who can't bear children is like a hen that can't lay eggs, it's just annoying to look at."

Expecting her words to sting, she was met instead with Amelie's cold sneer. Unhurriedly, Amelie pulled out her phone and hit play. A recording of Jasmine's earlier triumphant boasting instantly filled the room:

"After all, my child is the sole heir to the Hayes family."

Realizing Amelie had secretly recorded her, Jasmine and Elon's faces went pale.

Amelie walked toward Jasmine, who instinctively backed away, hiding behind Elon.

"You like to declare your sovereignty, don't you?" Amelie's voice was quiet but carried a crushing weight. "Let me help you repeat it."

As Jasmine stared in horror, Amelie raised her hand.

Crack.

The sound of the slap was sharp and loud, echoing through the cold room.

Jasmine clutched her cheek, her eyes wide with disbelief.

Elon stood frozen for a moment, then snapped out of his shock. With a roar of rage, he lunged forward, shoving Amelie hard. "You dare hit her!"

Amelie lost her balance and stumbled backward.

Elon was still not satisfied; he took a few steps forward and raised his fist, wanting to punch her directly.

Fortunately, instead of falling onto the cold, hard floor, she fell into a solid, warm embrace.

Brennen had caught her, pulling her behind him and shielding her.

He fixed Elon with a cold stare, "Mr. Hayes, laying a hand on a lady seems to be in poor taste."

Elon looked at the imposing Brennen, and then at the weeping Jasmine.

He helped Jasmine to her feet, spitting at Amelie. "You just wait, Amelie! We are not done!"

"If anything happens to her child, I will never let you get away with it!"

The room fell silent, leaving only Amelie and Brennen in an awkward quiet.

Amelie pulled away from his hold, murmuring in a low voice, "Thank you."

Brennen let his hand drop, stuffing it back into his pocket, resuming his lazy posture. "Peyton would kill me if I watched her best friend get bullied right under my nose."

Amelie didn't respond, the outburst had drained all her energy, and a wave of dizziness washed over her.

Brennen's brow furrowed. He stepped forward and steadied her by the arm. "What did the doctor say?"

His touch made her body tense, but she was too weak to pull away.

"Superficial wounds," she said softly. "And low blood sugar."

Without another word, Brennen took out his phone and dialed a number. "Send a patient-appropriate dinner to VIP room three at the central hospital. Immediately." His tone left no room for argument.

He hung up and looked at her. "Until your friend gets here, I'm watching you."

Amelie wanted to refuse, but looking into those eyes, she found she couldn't, and just nodded silently.