Marie's headache intensified at Damon's nonchalant attitude.

She shook her head and turned her attention to Clark and Nyla. "You've been married for three years now. When are you planning on having kids? I'm looking forward to having great-grandchildren."

The moment this topic came up, the atmosphere in the living room suddenly became tense. Nyla's fingers gripped her teacup so tightly her knuckles turned white.

This was her most sensitive topic, the one that pierced her heart every time it was mentioned.

Clark's aunt Anne immediately seized the opportunity.

She leaned forward with a sneer. "Nyla, you and Clark have been married for three years. What will it look like if you don't have a child? What will others think of our Summer family?"

She paused, malice glinting in her eyes. "And if Clark hadn't insisted on marrying you, do you think you could have married into our Summer family with your background? Don't be so ungrateful. You don't want to have children for Clark, but there are plenty of women out there who would."

Anne spoke with mock concern, but her gaze was filled with contempt. She had always looked down on this niece-in-law.

Talking about children made Nyla's chest tighten with pain. Of course she wanted a child. She had given up her promising career in scientific research to be a good wife. But she couldn't conceive.

She had secretly visited doctors who said nothing was wrong with her body. Perhaps it was stress. But the Summer family often mocked her, calling her barren and useless.

Just as Nyla was drowning in humiliation, Clark suddenly took her hand. He smiled at his grandmother. "Grandma, we're trying! There's no rushing these things. We have to let nature take its course."

Then he turned to Anne, his voice stern. "Anne, watch your words. Nyla is my wife, and I won't tolerate anyone speaking to her like that."

Anne's face flushed red at being publicly rebuked. "I'm doing this for your own good. You've been married for so long without any progress..."

"That's enough," Clark interrupted sharply. "You don't need to worry about Nyla and me. And I want to make it clear that I'm honored to have Nyla as my wife. She didn't marry up."

Nyla felt a confusing mix of emotions as she listened to Clark's defense. The love they had shared over the years was genuine. Clark's protection of her had always felt real. He consistently stood between her and his family's criticism.

But at the same time, his betrayal was also real. Those photos, that necklace in the trash can, the woman's taunting messages. All of it reminded her that this man had deceived her completely.

Anne was clearly unwilling to let this go. She continued with false sweetness. "I'm just telling the truth. No pregnancy in three years? Maybe there's something wrong with her body. With all the medical advances these days, she should get checked out. There are treatments for these things."

"Anne!" Clark's voice turned dangerously cold. "I'm warning you for the last time. Whether or when we have children is between Nyla and me. It's not your business to interfere."

In the past, Nyla would have been grateful for Clark's protection. She would have seen it as proof of his love. But today, hearing these words felt hollow.

She knew that the moment Clark cheated, everything changed. No amount of public defense could erase what he had done in private.

Midway through the banquet, Clark's phone suddenly rang.

"Sorry, everyone," Clark said with an apologetic smile. "There's an emergency at work. I need to handle this right away."

He turned to Nyla, his expression softening. "Honey, can you have Grandma's driver take you home? I'll be back as soon as I can."

Marie waved dismissively. "Clark, go ahead. Don't worry about Nyla."

Clark kissed Nyla's forehead quickly. "I'll make this up to you, I promise."

As soon as Clark's car disappeared down the driveway, Marie's polite mask slipped completely. She looked at Nyla with open displeasure.

"Well, now that Clark's gone," Marie said coolly, "I suppose you'll be wanting to leave too."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop.

"Nyla's not some delicate flower," Anne chimed in with renewed confidence. "She can find her own way home, can't she?"

Nyla felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. She had been dismissed like a servant. Without Clark's protection, she meant nothing to these people.

"I think that's my cue to leave," Nyla said. She stood up. "Thank you for your hospitality."

The butler, following Marie's subtle nod, escorted Nyla only to the manor gate. He immediately turned back toward the house, leaving her standing alone on the roadside.

That's when the rain started.

Fat droplets fell from the dark sky, quickly soaking through Nyla's silk dress.

She pulled out her phone to call a taxi, but the app showed no available drivers in this remote area. The Summer estate was far from the city center.

The rain intensified rapidly. Within minutes, Nyla was completely drenched. Her carefully styled hair hung in wet strands around her face. Her dress clung uncomfortably to her skin.

Just when she thought things couldn't get worse, headlights cut through the darkness. A black Rolls-Royce slowed to a stop beside her.

The window rolled down, revealing Damon's sharp features.

As Damon prepared to leave the manor, he glanced out the car window. Through the rain, he could see Nyla huddled against the stone wall near the gate.

Her dress was completely soaked, clinging to her body and outlining her curves. Her long hair hung in wet strands around her face, making her look fragile and abandoned.

Damon understood immediately what had happened. He knew Marie and Anne's personalities well. They would never be kind enough to arrange transportation for the niece-in-law they had always disliked.

He turned to his assistant Spencer, who was sitting in the passenger seat. "Get out and hold an umbrella for her."

Spencer immediately grabbed the black umbrella from the floor and stepped out into the rain. He walked quickly toward Nyla while Damon rolled down his window.

"Get in," Damon said to Nyla. His voice was characteristically cold and commanding. "I'll take you home."

Nyla looked up, startled to see it was Damon. She instinctively took a step back, shaking her head. "Uncle Damon, it's okay. The rain will stop soon. I can wait."

She remembered Clark's warnings about how dangerous Damon could be. Clark had specifically told her to keep her distance from his uncle. She didn't want to cause herself any more trouble, especially not tonight.

Damon's brow furrowed when he saw Nyla clearly trying to avoid him. His tone grew deeper and more commanding. "Get in the car. Don't make me repeat myself."

His natural dominance was overwhelming. The way he spoke made it nearly impossible to refuse. Nyla felt her resolve weakening under his intense gaze.

Before she could refuse again, Spencer appeared beside her with the umbrella. He gently took her damp clutch from her trembling hands.

"Ms. Nyla, please get in the car," Spencer said kindly. "This rain will continue for at least another hour. It's very windy out here, and you're not dressed warmly enough. You'll catch pneumonia."

Spencer's tone was gentle and concerned. Nyla glanced up at the dark storm clouds, then down at her completely soaked dress. Water was still dripping from her hair. She was starting to shiver uncontrollably.

Finally, biting her lip, she opened the car door and slid inside.

The interior of the Rolls-Royce was warm and luxurious. Soft leather seats and the faint scent of expensive cologne filled the space. Nyla immediately felt the temperature difference.

Damon glanced at her wet dress, which was now clinging even more tightly to her body. The fabric had become almost transparent. He could see the outline of her undergarments. His throat tightened involuntarily.

Without a word, he took off his dark gray suit jacket and tossed it to her.

"Thank you," Nyla murmured, quickly pulling the jacket around her shoulders. It was still warm from his body heat and smelled like his cologne. The scent was surprisingly comforting. "I'll have it cleaned and return it to you."

"Just throw it away," Damon replied coldly. His tone carried casual arrogance, as if the expensive jacket meant nothing to him.

The car pulled away from the manor and drove smoothly through the rainy night. Silence settled between them. Nyla huddled in the corner of the backseat, not daring to look at the powerful man beside her. She could feel an oppressive aura radiating from him. It made her unconsciously nervous.

She stole a glance at his profile. His jaw was sharp and perfectly defined. His dark hair was styled impeccably despite the rain. Everything about him screamed wealth and power. He was nothing like Clark, who was gentle and approachable. Damon seemed dangerous.

Twenty minutes later, the car stopped in front of Nyla's house. She quickly gathered herself and reached for the door handle.

"Thank you so much for the ride," she said hurriedly, leaving his jacket on the seat. "I really appreciate it."

Damon watched her disappear inside the house. The faint scent of jasmine perfume still lingered in the car where she had been sitting.

He found himself breathing it in deeply. His body reacted involuntarily to her proximity.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "She's your nephew's wife," he warned himself silently. "Control yourself."

As soon as Nyla entered her house, she felt a wave of dizziness wash over her. Her body began to feel hot despite her wet clothes. Her head felt heavy and confused.

Before she could even change out of her soaked dress, everything went black. She collapsed in the living room.

When Nyla woke up, she found herself lying in a hospital bed. The room smelled strongly of disinfectant, but the bedside table was covered with familiar treats.

Strawberry shortcake, colorful macarons, handmade chocolates, and a large bouquet of pink roses.

"Ma'am, you're finally awake!" A nurse appeared beside her bed, looking relieved. "You've had a high fever for over twenty-four hours. Mr. Summer was so worried. He stayed by your bedside the entire time. He only left an hour ago because of an emergency call."

The nurse checked Nyla's temperature with a digital thermometer. "Do you want me to call him? He'll be so happy to know you're conscious."

Looking at the familiar arrangement of gifts, Nyla felt her heart soften despite everything. She had always been prone to illness and had a terrible fear of injections and medication.

Whenever she was sick, Clark would do exactly this. He would buy all her favorite treats and flowers, hoping to cheer her up and speed her recovery. It had become their tradition over the years.

These sweet memories made her chest ache with confusion. How could the man who cheated on her be the same person who spent the night worried beside her hospital bed?

"Where is he now?" Nyla asked, pushing herself up in bed. "I want to find him myself."

The nurse smiled. "He's somewhere in the hospital taking care of business."

She left her room and walked down the sterile hospital corridor.

As she rounded the corner, she stopped dead in her tracks.

There was Clark, coming out of the obstetrics and gynecology department. But he wasn't alone. A woman walked beside him, her hand resting protectively on her belly.

Clark gently helped the young woman out of the obstetrics clinic. Both of them were smiling, their faces glowing with happiness.

Nyla immediately recognized her. This was the woman from the photos in those anonymous messages.

Just then, the woman spotted Nyla standing frozen in the hallway. Her eyes lit up with surprise and something that looked like malicious delight.

"Oh wow, isn't that Mrs. Summer?" she exclaimed loudly. "What a coincidence running into you at the hospital!"

At the sound of her voice, Clark looked up. His eyes met Nyla's across the corridor. His entire body went rigid. He quickly dropped his hand from the woman's arm, panic flooding his features.

"Nyla!" Clark hurried toward her, his voice high with nervousness. "Why are you here? You should be resting in your room!"

He reached her side, speaking rapidly. "I was just downstairs getting your medicine when I accidentally bumped into Jordyn here. She's my new secretary, and she's pregnant. I was worried she might fall, so I helped steady her."

His explanation tumbled out in a rush. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the air conditioning.

Nyla's gaze moved to the woman's slightly swollen belly. She felt her breathing become shallow and labored. But she forced herself to remain outwardly calm.

"Miss Jordyn," Nyla said slowly, "when did you get pregnant? Where's the father? Shouldn't he be here with you for such an important appointment?"

Jordyn caressed her belly with obvious pride. A sweet, satisfied smile spread across her face. "I just found out I'm two months along. The father couldn't be here because he's so busy with work, but he was absolutely thrilled when I told him."

She practically glowed as she spoke. "He said he wants to give me and the baby the best life possible. He's already bought me a beautiful apartment downtown and promised to make everything official after the baby arrives."

Every word felt like a knife twisting in Nyla's chest.

Jordyn continued, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "Mrs. Summer, you're so lucky to have such a wonderful husband. But I think my boyfriend is just as amazing. He tells me I've become even more beautiful since getting pregnant. He can barely stand to leave my side."

She paused, tilting her head with feigned innocence. "Mrs. Summer, do you have time? I'm free today. Would you like to have dinner together? I could invite the baby's father to join us."

The challenge in her eyes was unmistakable.

Clark's expression darkened. He shot Jordyn a warning look. "My wife doesn't have time. Miss Jordyn, I'm sure your boyfriend is waiting for you. Don't keep him worried."

His voice carried clear dismissal and irritation.

Then he wrapped his arm around Nyla's shoulders, his touch gentle and concerned. "Honey, you're still recovering. You shouldn't be walking around the hospital. Let me take you back to your room."

He spoke in the same caring tone. "She's just a secretary. Don't worry about her."

Jordyn's face crumpled at the cold dismissal in Clark's voice. Her eyes filled with tears, making her look young and vulnerable. "You're right. I got too excited. I'm not worthy of having dinner with Mrs. Summer."

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, looking genuinely hurt. "I should go. My boyfriend will be wondering where I am."

With that, she turned and walked away, her shoulders shaking slightly.

Clark's expression flickered. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to follow her. But when he noticed Nyla watching him carefully, he stayed put.

He turned back to Nyla and patted her head affectionately. "Be good, okay? I have some urgent things to handle at the company. I'll have James drive you home. Get some rest, and I'll be back tonight to check on you."

His voice was warm and loving, the same tone he had used for three years of marriage.

As soon as Nyla returned to her hospital room, her phone buzzed with a new message. It was from Jordyn.

The first image was a pregnancy test showing two clear pink lines.

Then came a series of messages that made Nyla's hands shake:

[Nyla, I know you figured it out today. The baby is Clark's. Don't think he loves you as much as you believe. If he truly loves you, then what am I doing in his life?]

[Do you know how obsessed he is with me? Every year on your birthday and your anniversary, after he puts you to sleep, he comes to spend the night with me. He's so passionate with me, so wild. We go through boxes of condoms, and I can barely walk the next day.]

[We've made love in his car, his office, even in your bedroom when you were away. He's done things with me that I bet he's never done with you. Has he ever been truly passionate with you, Nyla? Or does he save all his fire for me?]

Reading these brutal messages, Nyla felt something break inside her chest. Her hands trembled as she set down the phone.

She took deep, measured breaths, trying to suppress the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

That evening, Clark returned with an elegant white box.

Inside was a strawberry mousse cake from the city's most expensive French pastry shop. It had once been Nyla's absolute favorite dessert.

"Baby, I brought your favorite cake," Clark said carefully, watching her face for a reaction. "The doctor said you're still weak and need to eat more sweets to build up your energy."

He opened the box with a flourish, revealing the delicate pink confection.

In the past, Nyla would have clapped her hands with delight at seeing this cake. She used to say it was almost too beautiful to eat. But now, looking at it made her stomach turn.

She picked up the small silver fork and took a mechanical bite. The overly sweet flavor sat in her mouth like paste. She couldn't swallow it.

Without a word, Nyla stood up and threw the entire cake box into the trash can. The beautiful dessert landed with a dull thud.

Clark stared at her in shock. "Nyla, what's wrong with you? "