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?"