Chapter 2

A cold gel was smeared across my lower abdomen, and the ultrasound transducer slid gently over my skin.

"Congratulations, Vivian. You are eight weeks pregnant. The fetus is very healthy."

The words hit me like a shockwave. I had thought I could never be a mother.

To heal my severe burn scars back then, I had taken a massive amount of hormonal medications and heavy painkillers.

Asher Cole, my primary doctor and dermatologist, had frowned when he looked at my charts years ago, warning me that the heavy medication might leave me infertile.

I had broken down in hysterics. Ethan had held me tight, kissing away my tears. "As long as I have you, I don't care about kids. You are my only baby," he had promised.

That promise had been my anchor. But to the Vance family, it was a declaration of war.

"Ethan, you better think carefully," his father had roared when he found out about our engagement. "If you marry this woman, it means you'll have no heir. As the only son of the Vance family, you won't inherit a single dime of our estate."

His father had tried everything to tear us apart. But Ethan had stood firm. He had been willing to walk away from his entire family fortune just to marry me.

My hands shook as I dialed Ethan's number. I couldn't wait to share this miracle with him.

But when the call connected, a sweet, cloying voice answered instead.

"Hello? Vivi?" It was Chloe.

"Chloe, let me make this very clear," I snapped, refusing to play her games. "As long as you are an employee of this company, you will address me as Ms. Hale."

She paused, clearly taken aback, before putting on her usual meek tone. "Ms. Hale, is there something you need?"

"Put Ethan on the phone. I have something important to tell him."

"Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Vance doesn't want to take any calls right now. Especially yours," she said, letting out a soft, mocking giggle.

Before I could say another word, she hung up.

Since our last argument in his office, we had been in a cold war for an entire week. Neither of us had spoken a word, each waiting for the other to apologize.

In the past, whenever we fought, Ethan would always swallow his pride and apologize the very next day, regardless of who was at fault. He knew how stubborn I was, and he was always afraid I'd stress myself out and ruin my health.

Now, because of Chloe, he wouldn't even give me a bridge to cross.

"You're thirty years old, Vivian, not some college girl. Stop throwing tantrums."

"I suggest you drop this attitude. There's a limit to how long you can milk this."

Those were the last words he had said to me before jetting off on an out-of-town business trip with Chloe.

But life is unpredictable. Just as I was starting to seriously question my future with Ethan, this tiny new life appeared. It was as if this baby knew how desperately I, a girl who grew up in a broken home, craved a real family.

I decided to compromise for the sake of our child.

The moment Ethan saw the pregnancy report, his cold, stony face instantly melted. He wept tears of pure joy, scooping me up and spinning me around the room.

"Vivi, thank you. Thank you for making me a father."

He kissed my face repeatedly, and just like that, our relationship seemed to snap back to the way it used to be.

But the morning sickness hit me hard. I spent my days dizzy, exhausted, and nauseous.

Seeing how much I was struggling, Ethan insisted I stop going to the office. He made me stay home to rest and even hired a personal nutritionist to prepare all my meals.

Even Ethan's mother, who had treated me like dirt for years, suddenly softened her attitude. She started visiting, bringing over various expensive supplements.

But when she walked in and saw me hunched over the toilet, dry-heaving violently, her face hardened.

"You should be grateful your body could even carry a child. That's thanks to my son's good genetics, you know," she said coldly. "Stop being so dramatic. You need to eat, or the baby won't get any nutrients."

She shoved a bowl of a thick, organic homeopathic prenatal tonic under my nose. I forced myself to take two sips, but my stomach immediately revolted. I threw up everything, even coughing up yellow bile.

"Oh my god! Don't do that, it's disgusting!" his mother shrieked, backing away. "What a complete waste of expensive ingredients." She glared at me and stormed out.

The Vance family had always looked down on me. No matter how hard I worked to help Ethan build his business, in their eyes, I was just a low-class girl trying to climb the social ladder.