"Lauren, are you in there? Are you okay?"

Adrian’s knock on the bathroom door was gentle, and his voice was perfectly steady, showing no cracks.

I quickly typed the confirmation I’d sent earlier, then forced myself to step out, masking the storm inside me. I looked at him carefully, every word measured.

"I’m fine. I just feel a little nauseous. Adrian, do you think I might be pregnant?"

His face changed instantly. "Impossible!"

I blinked.

He recovered a second later, covering his reaction with a soft sigh. "I mean, your health hasn’t been good. We don’t need a child at the cost of your well-being. I’d never forgive myself if you got hurt."

It was true that my health had been fragile. We’d been married for years without conceiving. His mother had even taken me to see doctors several times, all of whom concluded it was difficult for me to conceive and that I would need long-term treatment.

Back then, Adrian had flown into a rage over it. "Lauren is my wife. Whether she bears children or not, she will always be my wife. Nothing matters more than her health!"

I had been moved to tears.

Now I saw it differently. He hadn’t been protecting me. I had simply given him and Chloe the perfect cover. Adrian played the good man so well.

Although his expression smoothed over quickly, I had already seen that flicker, and it was enough to drop my heart into a pit.

If this had been before, I would have melted into his arms, grateful beyond measure. However, now I could only force a smile and take two steps back. In the process, I knocked over a vase.

It shattered across the floor. We both froze.

That vase had been something we’d constructed together, and our initials were carved into the base.

Adrian rushed forward, gripping my arm. He brushed a hand over my cheek as if nothing else mattered. "It’s alright. I’ll buy you another one. Lauren, I know you’ve blamed yourself all this time for not being able to conceive. If you can’t, then we won’t. We’ll just adopt."

He paused, then spoke carefully, "I have a friend abroad. His whole family died in an accident, leaving behind a two-year-old boy. Lauren, you’ll love him."

Love your child with another woman?

I let out a cold laugh and shot back, "Funny… I didn’t know you had such a friend. And what if I don’t want to adopt?"

For just a moment, he snapped. His hand tightened around my wrist, bruising. "Lauren, this isn’t up for discussion."

His tone was sharp, final. "The Foster family needs an heir. This isn’t the time for stubbornness. Tomorrow, Liam will arrive. Show some dignity as Mrs. Foster."

His words were half encouragement, half threat. He patted my shoulder, then turned and left.

At the bend of the staircase, I watched him eagerly dial his phone, his lips curling into a rare, genuine smile.

"Hey, Chloe…"

The name drifted faintly back to me. My stomach lurched violently. I doubled over the sink, gagging and retching until I could breathe again.

So even the baby knew the truth, that this house had never welcomed me.

I placed my hand over my abdomen, whispering to the fragile life within me, 'It’s alright. Even without a father, I’ll bring you into this world. I’ll raise you well. You’ll never be less than anyone else’s child.'

"Mrs. Foster, it’s time for your medicine."

The housekeeper stepped in with a glass of water. I waved her away, suddenly finding the pills repulsive.

Adrian had always told me these were specially formulated supplements, tailored to my body by experts. He’d insisted that if I kept taking them, my health would improve and my chances of conceiving would grow.

I picked up one of the tablets, studying it closely. On the side, faint letters were etched into the coating.

My heart pounded as I looked them up.

They weren’t supplements. They were birth control pills. On top of that, taken long-term, they caused significant side effects.

Adrian had been feeding me poison for nearly six years.

Last month, frustrated and weary, I’d started flushing the pills down the toilet without telling anyone. I’d even clung to Adrian more than usual at night. That must have been when this child was conceived.

The icy realization seeped into every bone of my body. I wasn’t infertile. Adrian had simply never wanted me to get pregnant.

Throughout nearly a decade of knowing him and six years of marriage, I had always given him absolute trust and devotion.

I thought that even if he grew tired of me or the passion faded, he would never deliberately hurt me.

Alas, he had. Not only had he done it, but he had made me feel grateful, guilty, and dependent on him.

If not for those pills, maybe my health would have already recovered, and perhaps my child would already be running through this house.

I finally couldn't bear it anymore and burst into tears.

I was jolted awake by the sting of tiny hands slapping at my face.

Before I could make sense of what was happening, Chloe rushed in and scooped the child into her arms.

"Liam’s still little. This is the age when he’s always running wild. Don’t take it to heart, Miss Hayes."

Adrian appeared next, his eyes narrowing the moment he saw me still in bed. Disgust twisted his expression. "I reminded you yesterday that today is Liam’s welcome luncheon at the Foster estate. And you’re still lying around? Honestly. Chloe, let’s go. Don’t bother with her. What kind of hostess waits for the guests to wake her up?"

I had barely fallen asleep at dawn, my night plagued with nightmares. Now my head throbbed viciously from the rude awakening.

"Chloe knows Liam too?" I asked abruptly.

As Adrian faltered, his expression softened and he stammered, "Uh… yes. Liam’s parents were mutual friends of ours."

Liam’s features were carved straight from Chloe’s. The resemblance was uncanny, yet Adrian still thought I was a fool.

Before I could press him further, a child’s clear voice rang out from the living room.

"Mommy!"

Chloe’s gentle response followed immediately.

For a split second, panic flickered across Adrian’s face. "Kids don’t know what they’re saying. They call whoever they’re close to. Don’t take it seriously."

Then, Liam came running, calling "Daddy!" as he tossed a toy car at me, pulled Adrian’s hand, and darted off.

The three of them settled together on the sofa in the living room, a picture of warmth that seared like acid in my eyes.

I glanced around the bedroom I had lived in for years. Suddenly, there was nothing here worth holding onto.

I changed clothes quietly, intending to leave unnoticed. However, the moment I stepped out, a toy sword jabbed sharply into my stomach.

Liam blocked my path, glaring. "Daddy, Mommy, kiss! Bad lady, go away!"

The dull ache spread outward, and I followed his gaze to the media room.

That door had always been locked. Adrian had claimed it was his private sanctuary, a place to ease the pressures of work. I had believed him and respected him, never once crossing that threshold.

Now, the door was ajar.

Inside, I saw the truth: posters of Chloe, shelves stacked with her albums, DVDs, and endorsements.

There they were—Adrian and Chloe, curled up together on the sofa, whispering between kisses.

"Chloe, bringing Liam home was only the first step of our plan. Give it a little time, and I’ll find a way to bring you back here openly."

I laughed bitterly. Even our marriage certificate was fake. There wasn’t even a need for divorce. He had played his hand perfectly.

Frustrated that he couldn’t shove me aside, Liam broke into loud sobs.

Chloe hurried in at once, shielding him behind her. "Miss Hayes, if you’ve got a problem, take it out on me. Why vent your anger on a child?"

Adrian stepped in front of them, his face dark with disapproval. "Lauren, bullying guests is not how we Fosters behave. If you’re not awake yet, go splash some water on your face."

I had no intention of staying. I turned to leave, but then Liam’s wailing grew more pitiful, and Chloe gasped.

"Oh my God, Liam’s covered in bruises! Miss Hayes, how could you? He’s such a sweet boy, how could you lay a hand on him?"

Liam pointed at his bruises, then jabbed a finger at me, sobbing harder. "Bad lady hit me! Waaaah!"

It wasn’t true. He’d been the one shoving me, jabbing at me. I hadn’t touched him.

I stepped forward, desperate to explain, but Chloe clutched Liam tighter and retreated. Adrian’s expression hardened, his patience gone. He shoved me violently to the ground.

"Enough, Lauren! What’s wrong with you? How did you become so vicious, so spiteful? You can’t even leave a child alone?"

I hadn’t done a thing. I hadn’t said a word, but because their son wailed, every shred of blame was dumped on me.

I tried to push myself up, but my legs buckled. Pain tore through me, sharp and searing, and something warm began to spill out beneath me. A dark red stain spread across my pastel pants.

It was my pregnancy.

The agony stole my voice, but I forced out a broken plea, turning to Adrian with desperate eyes.

"The baby… save… save…"

His face twisted in shock, disbelief written all over it.

"You—you’re pregnant?"

"This is impossible! I watched you take your pills every single time. Impossible!"

Adrian’s voice cracked through the air. The moment the words left his mouth, he froze, his eyes darting as though scrambling for a way out.

Hearing the truth with my own ears was like having my heart carved apart with a blade.

Adrian frowned as though he thought of helping me up, but Chloe caught his arm before he could.

Her face was pale with panic, her voice quivering as she said, "Adrian, look at Liam. He’s having an asthma attack!"

Liam sobbed so hard he couldn’t breathe, his little face turning a frightening shade of purple.

Chloe clutched him like precious glass. "Miss Hayes, what a cruel trick. You knew Liam is asthmatic, yet you filled the house with flowers and let him cry himself sick. If anything happens to him, I won’t want to live either!"

"Chloe, stop. Don’t say that. Liam will be fine. The doctor’s on his way!" Adrian pressed his hand over her mouth, kissing Liam’s damp forehead in anguish.

Then, his gaze swung back to me, burning with contempt. "Lauren, I don’t even recognize you anymore. I’m so disappointed in you! Children don’t lie. And Liam is especially obedient. If this is how you treat him, how could you ever teach him? How could you ever remain my wife?"

Each word landed like a nail, pinning me down as though I were a criminal, as though even my unborn child, who was already slipping away, were evidence against me.

Liam’s cries filled the room. Even over them, Adrian’s fury boiled. His verdict came swiftly and mercilessly. "Mr. Peter Harris, lock Madam in the basement. She can’t come out until she admits her mistakes, until she learns how to treat Liam properly."

My heart shattered completely.

My body, weak and torn, was dragged across the floor like discarded fabric. A long trail of red followed behind me.

On one end, there was me. On the other was Adrian’s picture-perfect family of three.

Days passed before Adrian finally spared a thought for me, nestled as he was in the comfort of his "happy" home. At dinner, he asked absently, "Well, has she admitted her mistake?"

Mr. Harris, the butler, faltered, his voice choking. "Sir… Madam has passed away."

"What the hell did you say?"