Anna's heart lurched as news broke of the Smith Group's heir making a grand gesture at FY's new product launch, showering a beautiful woman with extravagant gifts.

The Smith Group... only Ethan Smith held that title. And the FY launch, showcasing their prestigious new line, was happening in their very own New York City.

A shiver ran down Anna's spine as her fingers trembled, instinctively clicking on the article. The accompanying photo confirmed her fear: it was Ethan.

He possessed an effortless grace, his tall frame and long legs perfectly accentuated by the tailored suit. He was the kind of man who always looked effortlessly captivating in photographs.

Normally, any glimpse of Ethan would hold Anna captive, her gaze lingering on his image.

He was breathtaking.

But today, she abruptly closed the page, a knot forming in her stomach.

Almost involuntarily, she navigated to her X and spotted a new post from Riley Gilbert, Ethan's classmate from their school days.

"FY's iconic pink diamond necklace, one of only ten in the world, now adorns Becca!"

The picture offered only a glimpse of the neck, the dazzling pink diamond necklace sparkling against the skin.

With a heavy heart, Anna tucked away the ultrasound report and hailed a taxi home, a persistent ache pulsing in her lower abdomen.

Reaching her apartment, she realized she'd forgotten groceries. Reluctantly, she ventured out again, carefully selecting Ethan's favorite ingredients. Upon returning, she busied herself washing, prepping, and cooking, her efforts stretching late into the evening.

Around nine o'clock, Ethan finally arrived home.

"I forgot to mention, I had a prior engagement tonight and already ate dinner," he announced, his voice even and his handsome face unreadable.

Anna silently accepted the suit from his outstretched hand.

In their three years of marriage, this was the first time she had seen him return from a social event with his hair untouched by hairspray, appearing almost freshly showered.

The suit carried no scent of alcohol, only a faint, unfamiliar perfume. It wasn't the same suit he wore in the news.

Suppressing her questions, Anna moved to retrieve his pajamas. Suddenly, Ethan's arms encircled her waist from behind.

The clean, minty fragrance of her hair filled his senses. Through the thin silk of her pajamas, Anna felt the increasing boldness of his touch.

As a stay-at-home wife, Anna rarely made public appearances. On the infrequent occasions when Ethan brought her to Smith family gatherings, he maintained a polite distance.

But in the privacy of their bedroom, the dynamic shifted dramatically.

Ethan's desires were strong. His physical prowess and technique were undeniable, and he possessed a devastatingly handsome face, especially his perfectly sculpted smile, capable of disarming anyone.

Under normal circumstances, Anna would have offered no resistance, willingly complying with his desires.

However, recent events, coupled with her delicate condition, left her feeling emotionally and physically drained.

"Honey, my stomach is feeling a little off. Could we skip tonight..."

The words were barely out of her mouth when Ethan swept her off her feet and deposited her onto the expansive bed.

"I'm pregnant..."

Before she could finish the word, his weight pressed her down, his mouth claiming hers in a possessive kiss.

He continued kissing her as he impatiently unbuttoned his shirt and released his belt, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity as he gazed down at her.

Sensing the unusual resistance from the usually compliant Anna Hendrick, a flicker of surprise crossed his face. He swiftly used his belt to bind her wrists to the bedposts.

"Just perform your wifely duties," he murmured, silencing any protest with another passionate kiss.

Anna was lost to the night, driven into a dazed oblivion.

When she finally awoke, the room was shrouded in darkness. A discomforting ache in her abdomen and lower body prompted her to head to the bathroom to freshen up. As she did, she overheard Ethan speaking on the phone in the living room.

"Ethan, Becca is completely wasted, you need to get over here ASAP!"

In this moment, Anna found herself oddly grateful for Riley's booming voice.

In the dim light of the living room, Ethan's tall, lean figure stood out sharply. The shadows accentuated the sharp angles of his face, and his dark eyes seemed to absorb the surrounding darkness.

Anna was surprised to see him holding a cigarette.

To her knowledge, Ethan didn't smoke, or at least, not at home.

"I'm not trying to stir things up, but how long are you and Becca going to keep this up? Now that she's back, isn't it time to reconcile?" Riley's voice, amplified by the quiet of the night, resonated clearly.

Anna heard every word, her breath catching in her throat.

"Riley..." Ethan's tone was sharp, his gaze intense. "I'm married."

A wave of relief washed over Anna, like a shot of adrenaline to the heart.

"So what if you're married? Divorces happen all the time! That old hag who can't even support herself if you divorced her is nothing compared to Becca."

"But I don't *want* a divorce."

"Why not?"

"Because I can't bear to."

Anna's eyes began to well with tears, and she fought the urge to cry out.

Ethan's words moved her more profoundly than any expensive gift he had ever given.

Three years of marriage had the power to soften even the coldest heart, and Anna had never believed herself to be lacking in any way.

She diligently took care of the house, cooking and cleaning without complaint.

She also made sure Ethan was satisfied in bed.

Anna felt that her efforts had not been in vain. Ethan's feelings for her were stronger than she had imagined. This phone call was proof.

The knot in her stomach loosened. She turned to return to the bedroom. Eavesdropping was wrong, and now, unnecessary.

She loved Ethan.

And Ethan loved her, too.

"Of course I can't bear to lose such a hardworking maid!"

Anna's feet froze.

"Even though I don't need the money, it's different when someone puts in the effort. It feels good."

"And Anna is different from Becca. She's not particularly talented. No education, no job, just a housewife who spends her days in the kitchen. My grandfather likes her, my mother finds her easy to control, and my whole family is happy with the situation. Why would I get a divorce?"

"She's perfect as a stay-at-home wife. I don't have to give her much, just a little affection now and then to keep her in line."

Riley seemed to finally understand. "Oh, I get it. But Becca..."

"Send me the address. I'll be right there."

Ethan hung up and rushed out the door.

Anna remained pressed against the wall, not daring to move until she heard the click of the door closing.

Then, she broke down.

Tears poured forth like a broken dam, blurring her vision. A wave of nausea rose in her throat, and a sharp pain stabbed through her abdomen.

She sank to the floor, clutching her stomach, sweat beading on her forehead. A warm liquid trickled down her legs.

It was blood.

Darkness enveloped her...

When she opened her eyes again, she was lying in a hospital bed.

A nurse was the only other person in the sterile, quiet room.

"Excuse me, can I ask..." Anna's voice was raspy.

"Ms. Anna, you had a miscarriage."

The sterile white walls of the hospital room became Anna's prison for a month, each night a torment of dreams.

In those fragile illusions, Ethan was a devoted figure, perpetually at her bedside, his face lit with a smile as he listened for the phantom stirrings of their unborn child.

Each awakening was a brutal return to reality, marked by the scalding tracks of tears.

The baby...

...was gone.

And Ethan? He remained conspicuously absent.

His excuse was a business trip, a convenient alibi. Instead, he dispatched Oscar Paul, his assistant, with two deliveries: pink roses, their fragrance a cruel mockery, and payment for her medical expenses.

Anna wrestled with the urge to gift the flowers to the nurses, but the words caught in her throat. She'd rather endure the constant sneezing.

The physical toll of the abortion, at only two months, was minimal. But the instinct to cradle her belly, a newly formed habit, persisted.

The thought of the extinguished life within sparked a familiar ache behind her eyes.

Her first child.

The union of her flesh and blood with the man she had poured a decade of love into.

Vanished...just like that.

Anna's nightly grief stalled her recovery, but the hospital, as hospitals do, needed the bed. The eviction notice was inevitable.

Amidst the sterile emptiness of her packing, a stranger materialized in the doorway.

A woman sculpted with delicate features and framed by meticulous makeup, adorned in a Barbie-pink velvet halter dress and a statement necklace –

A necklace Anna recognized all too well: the limited-edition pink diamond piece from FY, the one Riley Gilbert had so ostentatiously paraded on social media.

"Hello, I'm Becca Drew, Ethan's classmate from high school."

The woman's introduction hung in the air, prompting a bitter reflection on the name: Becca Drew...BD. An undeniable connection.

Seeing Becca extend a manicured hand, Anna forced herself to reciprocate the handshake.

"Hello, I'm Anna, Ethan Smith's wife. You can call me Mrs. Smith."

Becca's practiced smile flickered, betraying a momentary loss of composure.

But her poise was quickly regained, her expression smoothing back into place. "I came to offer my sincere apologies."

Becca lowered her gaze, striking a pose of contrived remorse that seemed almost rehearsed. "I had no idea you were in the hospital because... you were pregnant. If I had known, I would never have let Ethan accompany me to the FY press conference. And then I drank too much that night; it's really all Riley's fault, she insisted on calling Ethan. I certainly didn't expect him to actually come and get me...and that it would lead to...this. It's all my fault..."

Becca, oozing contrition, presented Anna with a fruit basket. "This is a small gesture of apology...please accept it. I'll feel awful if you don't."

Anna couldn't suppress a bitter laugh at the performance unfolding before her. "Why wouldn't I accept a five-hundred-dollar fruit basket? You're hardly offering me *the* necklace as compensation."

Becca's carefully constructed facade showed a hairline crack. She cleared her throat. "I heard you're being discharged today?"

"Yes."

"Perhaps...it would be better if you stayed a little longer. Seeing you will only upset Ethan, reminding him of our...your loss. He's been so distraught this past month, and I've been trying my best to support him. We even took a trip abroad...yachts, fishing, sunrises, sunsets..."

Watching Becca's carefully crafted display of elation, Anna couldn't care less whether the details were true or embellished.

"Yes, my husband is a generous man, devoted to his friends. He's always taken such good care of his high school acquaintances, treating them to yacht trips every week. He even gifted my best friend a ten-million-dollar diamond necklace once!" Anna hated lies, but if a few pointed words could shatter the composure of a mistress, she was more than willing to indulge.

Becca's fists clenched almost imperceptibly. "If you're so understanding, I'm relieved..."

She turned to leave, then paused at the doorway, pivoting back. "Oh, one more thing. Ethan won't be able to pick you up from the hospital. He's utterly exhausted and is catching up on sleep... at my place."

With that final, pointed barb, Becca vanished.

Anna felt a strange detachment, a hollowness devoid of anger, replaced by a profound sense of disillusionment.

She contacted Oscar, confirming that Ethan was, in fact, at the office.

Becca had lied.

Refusing to accept the mistress's warped narrative, Anna resolved to seek the truth from Ethan himself.

Before leaving the hospital, she made a detour to the Traditional Medicine Department, collecting a fresh supply of herbs.

Ethan suffered from a sensitive stomach, and his mother had a deep-seated distrust of tablets. Anna had always personally brewed his remedies, knowing the precise dosages, proportions, and simmering times by heart.

The family's stock was dwindling. If not for the recent tragedy, Anna would have replenished it long ago.

Clutching the heavy bag of the medicine, Anna arrived at the Smith Group headquarters.

The receptionist recognized her from previous meal deliveries to Ethan - a time when she was mistaken for a nanny.

"Miss Anna, President Smith is in a meeting. You can leave the medicine with Assistant Oscar; he's in the assistant's office."

"Okay."

Anna refrained from correcting the receptionist, from clarifying that she wasn't "Miss Anna," but "Mrs. Smith."

Reaching the executive floor, Anna bypassed Oscar's office, heading directly for the general manager's door.

The frosted glass wasn't fully closed. Through the narrow gap, Anna saw Ethan and Riley standing inside.

"Ethan, you claim you can't bear to let go of your wife, yet you had the heart to murder your own child..."

Anna, her hand raised to knock, froze, petrified in place.

"Becca had nothing to do with it..."

"Whether she returns or not, I can never have a child with Anna."

"Why?"

"Human energy is finite. A child would change her. Besides, right now, it's just Grandpa's appreciation and Mom's approval. Once a baby arrives, it won't be so simple." Ethan casually exhaled a plume of cigarette smoke, his calculated smile striking Anna with the force of a physical blow.

"And...I knew she was pregnant. So I deliberately...wasn't careful, damaging her uterus. The doctor says she can't have any more children."

His voice, coolly detached, made the admission with chilling ease.

On the other side of the door, Anna was already slick with cold sweat.

"Ethan, if you've treated that shrew so harshly, who will carry on the Smith family name? It will have to be my best friend!"

Ethan offered no response to Riley's suggestive remark.

Finishing his cigarette and his conversation with Riley, he began to leave the office. He spotted something Riley didn't notice.

A bag of herbs.

Emerald Nursing Home.

Anna had practically fled here, running from Ethan's office, from Ethan's company, unable to endure another moment.

She felt consumed by nausea.

His every word was a vile poison.

This was the man she had loved for a decade.

He'd pursued and married her out of spite, as revenge against another woman.

He'd murdered their child with his own hands, again, for another woman.

Ten years of devotion, three years of marriage-a complete and utter sham.

Anna furiously wiped away her tears and walked into the nursing home.

Since her marriage to Ethan, her mother had been moved here from the hospital.

Her mother, whose health had always been fragile, had succumbed to Alzheimer's during a global pandemic.

Even though she no longer recognized her, there were things she needed to confess.

Her mother's greatest wish was to see her happily married.

So Anna had to tell her mother...

...she was a failure as a daughter.

That evening, Anna left the nursing home and went to a nearby law firm.

As darkness descended, the lights of New York City flickered to life, illuminating the vibrant pulse of the city. When Ethan arrived home, he found

the lights were off. He flipped them on, illuminating the medicine and a bouquet of pink roses in his hands.

In the silent, empty house, there was no hot, fragrant meal.

And no Anna Hendrick.

Ethan's brow furrowed. He placed the flowers and traditional medicine down, then retrieved his phone with practiced calm to call Anna. The call went unanswered.

He hadn't imagined a day where Anna wouldn't be home. Nevertheless, Ethan, true to habit, put on a record, filling the silence with his beloved Chopin nocturne.

An hour passed. Still no Anna Hendrick.

Two hours crept by. The house remained empty.

Three hours later, Ethan rose and headed to the closet. Inside, most of Anna's clothing hung neatly, all gifts from him, dominated by shades of pink.

However, the two blue suits she owned before their wedding were gone.

Just then, a delivery arrived.

The recipient: Ethan Smith.

He couldn't recall ordering anything.

The package was a large, imposing cardboard box. He tore it open, revealing a dazzling, almost overwhelming collection:

Pink roses, a pink diamond necklace, a pink Hermès bag, bright pink high heels, a cherry-pink dress, a pink diamond watch, gold jewelry, a peach-pink silk scarf, luxury perfume, a pink diamond brooch, car keys, a pink diamond ring...

Ethan's expression darkened, a silent storm gathering in his eyes.

These were all gifts he had showered upon Anna during their courtship.

The pink diamond ring, his engagement ring.

Ethan rifled through the box, discovering that, despite the years, not a single label had been removed from any of the items.

The only thing in the box that wasn't a present from him was a file folder. Ethan pulled it out.

New York City's night skyline shimmered, a testament to wealth and extravagance.

The old houses on Salem Street had been dark for years, but tonight, lights blazed from dusk until late.

Anna had spent half the day meticulously cleaning her room until it sparkled. Though simple, it was now clean and inviting.

She used to have her mother, a constant source of support, but now she was alone. To deny the loneliness would be a lie.

Anna clutched her phone, wavering over whether to call Lucy Goldberg.

Lucy was her closest friend, a bond forged in high school.

But before she could dial, the doorbell rang. Anna quickly hung up and went to answer it.

Ethan's tall, imposing figure filled the doorway, like a mountain looming over her, startling Anna.

"What is the meaning of this?!" he demanded.

With a thud, the divorce agreement in Ethan's hand struck Anna's face.

Her face flushed crimson. This was the first time she had seen Ethan so enraged, and she instinctively lowered her head in fear.

"Why aren't you saying anything? Why did you run away from home for no reason? Are you a child?"

Ethan reached to pull her closer, but Anna recoiled.

"Ethan, I want a divorce..."

"Why?"

"Because..."

"Is this about Becca?"

Anna looked up, meeting Ethan's gaze. His arms were crossed, his handsome features sculpted into a sneer of disdain.

That smile was a painful blow.

Seeing Anna's silent agreement, Ethan scoffed.

Becca's return had made the truth undeniable, and he no longer felt the need to hide it.

"Anna, when did you learn to play these games? I admit Becca was my first love, and I proposed to you to get under her skin. But I've never given you any reason to complain during our three years of marriage..."

The phrase "never given you any reason to complain" stung, bringing tears to Anna's eyes.

She wanted to retort: "What about the child? Didn't *you* force me to abort our child?"

But she knew it was pointless.

Her chest tightened, as if crushed beneath a heavy weight. Anna drew a deep breath.

At this point, divorce was the best outcome for them both, putting an end to her foolish, failed love and marriage.

Anna watched as Ethan pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and exhaled a plume of smoke on her cramped living room sofa, his words laced with unwavering conviction.

"Becca and I went to high school together. She studied abroad and is now a highly respected professional. A rising star in jewelry design. Had her hand not been injured, she would be a world-class pianist... A woman like that is too brilliant, my mother wouldn't be able to handle her. For her to stay at home and care for the family would be a waste of her talent. She's not suited to be the Smith family's daughter-in-law..."

Anna's face paled.

"But you're different. You have no talent, no ambition, no aspirations. You didn't graduate from college. You have no education, no diploma, no skills, and your family isn't well off. After all these years as a housewife, you're completely out of touch with the world... Without me, you're nothing. You can't even afford to eat or have a place to live. What makes you think you can divorce me?"

The small house fell into a heavy silence.

Anna opened her mouth, inhaled the cigarette smoke Ethan exhaled, and started coughing.

"When you've thought it through, pack your things and come home. This is the only time I'll forgive you."

After finishing the cigarette, Ethan looked around for an ashtray, but found none. He didn't throw it on the floor.

He raised his hand, and Anna moved forward and took the cigarette butt, tossing it in the trash can.

Ethan smiled, his charm especially potent when he smiled.

She claimed she wanted a divorce, but her actions belied her words.

Ethan shifted, crossing his legs.

Anna was penniless and unskilled, a parasite only capable of relying on men.

Anyone with sense would realize that sticking with him was the most beneficial choice.

Becca's appearance had just upset her, prompting a temporary display.

"Enough. I don't have time for your games. From now on, just keep running the household as you always have, and I'll continue to support you," Ethan said coldly. He watched Anna bend down, her shoulders slumped, as she gathered the scattered divorce papers one by one.

"If you don't sign, I'll mail them to your company or your mother tomorrow..."

Anna shot to her feet.

"Anna, don't be so shameless!"

Anna now seemed so foreign, it unnerved him.

She opened the door.

"Go back! Don't come here again."

Ethan had never anticipated his attempts to appease Anna would be met with rejection. He shrugged and offered an angry smile.

"Fine, Anna. If you're so sure, don't come crying and begging me when you regret it."

He slammed the door behind him and left, leaving the divorce papers behind.

Late into the night, Anna finally located her old bank card.

It was from before her marriage, untouched and stored away in this house. Not a single penny in it had come from Ethan.

Ethan had been right the night before. She had no education, no diploma, and years of being a housewife had left her disconnected from the world. After the divorce, she would have to make a living on her own.

After linking the bank card to her mobile banking app, the balance appeared on the screen:

2,077,805.

Slightly more than she expected.