Chapter 3

The cab stopped at the entrance.

I forced my emotions down and walked inside with steady steps.

As soon as I pushed the door open, I saw Serena and Ethan acting disgustingly close, ignoring everyone else.

"See? I told you she would come here to apologize."

Serena glanced at me, her voice dripping with triumph.

Ethan nodded dotingly.

"You really know her better than I do."

They used to playfully argue about who knew me best.

Back then, I would always laugh and try to make peace between them.

Now, my life was just a joke to them.

Suppressing the urge to throw up, I slammed the pregnancy report onto the desk.

Ethan froze.

But he quickly stood up, his brow furrowing with anger.

"Didn't I tell you never to touch my folders?!"

There was nothing but annoyance in his eyes. I let out a cold laugh.

His first reaction wasn't to explain. It was to blame me for finding out.

"If any important document gets lost, can you even afford to take responsibility?"

I stared straight into Ethan's eyes.

"Do I only get the right to touch your things after the baby is born?"

"Ethan, stop hiding your disgusting actions behind 'work.' It's pathetic."

Seeing the tension, Serena quickly stepped in front of Ethan.

"Don't blame Ethan! This is all my fault!"

Her voice was trembling, making her look like the victim.

Looking at the two of them protecting each other, a ball of rage exploded in my chest.

I raised my hand and slapped Serena hard across the face.

"Sleeping with your best friend's fiancé, getting married behind her back, getting pregnant, and still having the nerve to play the victim..."

"Serena, do you actually think you're clever?"

Before I could do anything else, Ethan shoved me hard.

My hip slammed against the sharp corner of the desk, and I fell heavily to the floor.

"Enough, Chloe! If it weren't for Serena, your private photos would have been all over the internet by now!"

"Do you have any idea how exhausting it has been to sleep with a woman who has that kind of dirty baggage for all these years?!"

My brain went entirely blank.

I remembered how Ethan had looked at me with so much love and pity when he first found out about my past.

Now, he acted as if I had forced him to stay by my side.

Serena held her cheek, burying herself in Ethan's chest, a tiny, triumphant smirk playing on her lips.

Ethan seemed to realize he had gone too far. He stopped talking, knelt down, and tried to grab my hand.

"Chloe, I didn't mean it like that..."

His voice shook, as if he was genuinely terrified that I would leave him.

"Serena's boss already promised her the promotion. Once the baby is born, we will get a divorce."

"As for our wedding... just wait a little longer, okay?"

Once again, he put Serena ahead of everything else.

I looked at him, but I couldn't even feel sad anymore.

"Ethan, do you remember the wedding you promised me?"

"Now you're asking me to wait for you to get a divorce so you can marry me? Don't you hear how ridiculous you sound?"

I yanked my hand out of his grip.

Suddenly, my phone started buzzing wildly with security alerts from my smart home app.

I quickly unlocked my screen.

On the live camera feed...

The front door of my dad's house was covered in bright red paint.

Scribbled across the door were the words: "The mistress and her family deserve to die."

There were even people standing outside with cameras, filming the whole thing.

My head spun, and the world felt like it was turning upside down.

I shoved the phone right in front of Ethan's face.

"Ethan! That's the house my dad left us!"

"Drive me back right now! That house is the only thing keeping my mother alive!"

Ethan barely glanced at the screen.

"Serena's video is trending right now. It's normal for some crazy viewers to get worked up."

"Once her promotion party is over, I'll buy you a brand-new house."

Looking at him, my heart went completely cold.

"My dad used his entire life savings to buy that house because he wanted to make sure I had a home before he died."

"He even put your name on the deed."

I remembered when my dad transferred the deed to us. He had carefully practiced writing our names, smiling like a happy child.

But to Ethan, it was just something that could be easily replaced with a "brand-new house."

To him, I was just like that house—an object that could be thrown away and replaced at any time.