Of course I knew Levi loved me.

I wasn't blind — how could I not see the depth of emotion burning in his eyes?

His love for me lived in every tiny, exquisite detail of our life together, so obvious it needed no confirmation.

The way he instinctively pulled me into his arms every time I so much as shifted in bed.

The way he remembered every offhand comment I made and quietly made it happen.

The way his gaze clung to me, no matter the time, no matter the place, like I was the only thing worth seeing in the world.

It was precisely because of all this — because the love was so meticulous, so overwhelming — that this relationship could not withstand even a single betrayal.

I stared at him, slowly peeling back the layers until the ugliest truth was laid bare.

"Can you honestly tell me you don't have any feelings for her?" I asked.

"Of course!" Levi answered without a moment's hesitation.

I closed my eyes briefly, willing myself to stay calm, and then turned my head, my voice cool as I continued.

"Then why did you keep her résumé? We've known each other for years — when have you ever gotten so drunk? Why was it that after that particular business trip, your phone was never on silent again? And every month, without fail, you suddenly had to go on 'business trips.' Where exactly did you go?"

With each question, Levi's face drained a shade paler.

And with each answer unspoken, my heart tore another inch apart.

It hit me — I had seen that woman before.

A year ago, I had dropped by his office to bring him lunch, and on his desk, set conspicuously aside from the others, was a résumé. The girl's picture smiled up at me — bright-eyed, radiant, almost offensively beautiful. She was our alumna, though her major and work experience were completely unsuited for the position.

When Levi caught me staring, he casually took the résumé from my hands, his expression unreadable.

I had asked him about it then.

"Planning to hire her? She's an alum, sure, but she doesn't seem very qualified," I said.

He'd brushed it off, explaining that HR had forwarded it, but he was about to pass on her. And because he said it so casually, so convincingly, I didn't think twice.

But after that day, Levi who had never mixed home with work suddenly changed. He started taking work calls at home — frequent ones. He even lost his temper on the phone a few times, something I'd never seen before.

I had teased him once. "Who is it that could get our mild-mannered Levi so worked up?"

He'd paused, then said, awkwardly, that it was just a new and careless assistant, nothing major.

I nodded, brushing it off.

After that, though, he stopped taking calls in front of me altogether.

I was a light sleeper, and ever since we got together, his phone had always been on silent at night.

But after that business trip? Never again.

There were nights when his phone would buzz in the middle of the night, and he would slip out, saying he had to work late.

And those monthly trips — I realized now — weren't business trips at all. They were visits to accompany her for prenatal checkups.

The cracks had been there all along.

Looking back, retracing every step with the truth in my hand, it was glaringly obvious. I had simply refused to see it.

And now that the flimsy veil had been torn away, all that remained was raw, gaping wounds. Every drop of blood was a silent testament to the broken, bleeding corpse of our marriage.

Levi stood in front of me, ghostly pale, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, utterly speechless.

The sharp ring of his phone shattered the thick, suffocating silence.

He glanced at the screen, and although guilt flashed in his eyes, he still answered the call.

There was no doubt about who it was.

I turned away, biting down hard on my lip, refusing to show even a flicker of the pain ripping through me.

On the other end of the line, a voice said something I couldn't hear, and Levi, visibly agitated, snapped back.

"Your stomach hurts again? You call me for every little thing! Even if you really are uncomfortable, the nanny will take you to the hospital. I'm not a doctor. What's the point of calling me?!"

I watched him.

He hung up on Lily White in front of me, sure. But the tightness in his brow, the nervousness in his eyes — those were betrayals he couldn't conceal. After all, Lily was carrying his child.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself.

Then I climbed out of bed.

"Let's go," I said coldly. "I'll come with you to see her."

Just before we arrived, Levi was still trying—rather pathetically—to dissuade me from going.

I had naively assumed he was afraid I might hurt Lily.

It wasn't until I stepped into the house that I finally understood what he had truly been worried about.

This house—this place—had once been our shared dream. We had spent endless hours designing it, decorating it, imagining the life we would build here together.

Now, everywhere I looked, it reeked of another woman's presence.

Lily spotted me and her smile froze awkwardly on her face. She cast a frightened glance at Levi, like some poor little ingénue terrified of her fate.

He, ever the gallant hero, offered her a reassuring look right in front of me—an intimate, wordless exchange that was almost obscene in its familiarity.

It stabbed me sharply, harder than I had imagined it would.

I turned to Levi and said, "You should go. I want a word with Lily, alone."

He hesitated, visibly torn.

I smiled sweetly and asked, "What's wrong? Afraid I'll hurt your precious darling?"

Cornered, he said nothing more, but before he left, he stubbornly turned back to correct me.

"My only precious darling has always been you."

Lily couldn't help herself; she glanced at me.

One look was enough.

I saw it clearly—my suspicions were spot on.

"You entered the company with Levi as your goal, didn't you?" I asked coolly.

She flinched, only for a moment, before boldly admitting it. "So what if I did? My love for Levi isn't any less than yours."

I arched an eyebrow in amusement.

And then Lily launched into her little fairy tale.

Three years ago, Levi had returned to their alma mater as an honored alumnus. There, he gave an inspiring commencement speech.

She had been assigned to host him—and, in a charming little mishap, had managed to spill an entire glass of water on his expensive, custom-tailored suit.

Instead of being angry, Levi had been magnanimous.

From that moment on, Lily had been hopelessly smitten.

A year later, she graduated—and despite knowing she wasn't remotely qualified, she still brazenly submitted her résumé to Ezra Ventures.

"You know," she gushed, eyes shining with pride, "he actually remembered me. The moment he saw me, he smiled and said, 'It's you.'

"He insisted on hiring me despite everyone's objections. And afterward, he treated me differently from everyone else. When I found out I was pregnant, you should have seen how happy he was!"

"This estate—" she waved her hand around, like a princess surveying her domain—"was supposed to be for your future child, wasn't it? But now I'm living here. Our child will grow up here. Do you really think he would leave me after I give birth to this baby?"

Her voice dripped with triumph, her eyes practically begging to see me cry.

But she was sorely disappointed.

Whether Levi had been emotionally unfaithful or not, physically he had crossed the line—and that alone was something I could never, ever tolerate.

Letting go was painful, but I steeled myself and said, "Don't worry, I'm not that naive. I'm here to give you Levi—on one condition."

Lily eyed me suspiciously.

I smiled at her like we were merely exchanging party favors.

"Unlike you, I have standards. My man must love only me. I don't accept men who are fickle."

She opened her mouth, about to retort—but something caught her eye. And then she smiled.

"Alright. I'll trust you. But... I'd like a little insurance."

Before I could react, she suddenly clutched her belly and collapsed onto the floor with a moan.

In the next instant, a brutal force shoved me hard.

My hip slammed into the sharp corner of the table, and I gasped from the searing pain.

It was Levi.

He rushed to Lily's side, cradling her carefully in his arms while she shook her head weakly. "It wasn't Nikki," she whimpered. "Don't blame her."

Levi shot me a look of profound disappointment, one I had never seen before.

I opened my mouth to speak—but before I could say anything, Levi's mother came barreling into the room and shoved me aside.

I stood there, stunned.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

But she had no interest in answering me. She hurried over to Levi and Lily, fussing over them and the baby.

And then, out of nowhere, Levi's father slapped me. Hard.

"Dad!" Levi instinctively moved toward me, but the moment Lily whimpered again, he abandoned me without a second thought, sweeping her into his arms and carrying her away without even glancing back.

His father's rage was far from spent. He jabbed a trembling finger at me.

"You vicious woman! Can't have a child yourself, and now you want to stop Levi from having one outside? You want the Ezra family line to die with you, is that it?"

My face burned from the slap, my ears ringing.

It took me a long moment to gather myself.

I swallowed the metallic taste of blood in my mouth and forced out the question.

"When did you find out?"

Levi's mother sneered.

"We knew from the beginning! Did you think we'd hide our grandson? A rightful heir to the Ezra family?"

And just like that, it all made sense. They had known all along. They had welcomed Lily, protected her, and planned for her.

The in-laws I had dutifully served for seven long years, the marriage I had fought so hard to maintain—it had all been a cruel joke.

I couldn't breathe anymore. I turned and fled from that suffocating place.

I scheduled the abortion.

Before the procedure, I visited Levi in Lily's hospital room one last time.

He was there, kneeling at Lily's bedside, clutching her hand tightly, murmuring softly to her, "It's alright...you and the baby are safe. Our little family will be just fine..."

Again and again, he whispered it.

And somewhere in the flood of his words, I recalled a memory from nine years ago. That night, he had clutched my hands and sobbed, "Nikki, don't scare me. I can't live without you."

But everything had changed now. Nothing remained the same—only the ruins of what we once had.

This time, I didn't hold back. I let the tears pour down my face.

Let it be the final requiem for the love that had sustained me for nearly a decade.

Before heading into surgery, I sent Levi a photo of my hospital admission slip—and then turned off my phone.

As the anesthesia began to take effect, I placed my hand gently on my abdomen and silently apologized to the child I would never meet.

"I'm sorry...Mama can't love you right now."

…

Back in the hospital room, Levi's phone buzzed.

He glanced at it absentmindedly, and then the blood drained from his face.

The image on the screen sent a bolt of terror straight through him.

His hands trembling uncontrollably, he tried to call me.

The phone rang once and went straight to voicemail.

He tried calling again and again.

Panic seized him. Without thinking, he bolted down the stairs.

But it was too late. The glowing red letters outside the surgery room screamed the words: IN SURGERY.

Those two words devoured him whole. His legs buckled and he collapsed onto the cold floor.

And for the first time, a devastating truth struck him with absolute clarity.

His relationship with Nikki was over. For good.