Chapter 2

I pulled my hand back, blinked away the tears stinging my eyes, and went back to the master bedroom.

I closed my eyes, but I didn't sleep a wink all night.

The next morning, Ethan accompanied me to my prenatal checkup.

He sat right next to me, carefully writing down every single instruction from our private doctor.

Even a passing nurse couldn't help but look at us with envy, whispering, "Mrs. Cole, you are so lucky! It’s rare to see a husband so attentive."

I only offered a stiff smile. In my ears, Ethan’s inner thoughts kept buzzing.

[Cynthia needs to watch out for anemia, too. I need to buy her some of these supplements the doctor mentioned. Chloe’s body is such a hassle; she can't even absorb nutrients properly.]

[Should I book Cynthia's postpartum recovery suite in advance? I won't let my assistant handle it this time. I'll go choose it with her myself.]

[Ugh, when is Chloe finally going to pop? It’s so annoying having to drag myself to these appointments with her every single time.]

I closed my eyes, taking deep breaths to suppress my rage.

It wasn't until Ethan gently tapped my shoulder that I snapped out of it.

"Babe, let's go. We're all done."

"You were dozing off just now. Did the baby keep you up again last night? Go home and get some rest. By the time you wake up, I'll be back from my overtime."

Ethan thoughtfully helped me into the car and watched it drive off with a lingering gaze before turning away.

Once his figure vanished from the rearview mirror, I looked at the driver.

"Uncle Joe, make a U-turn at the next intersection."

"We're going back to the hospital."

I returned to the hospital and waited.

At exactly one in the afternoon, I spotted Ethan and Cynthia in the OB-GYN department.

They had booked a different private doctor and were wearing hats and masks to avoid being recognized.

Ethan's hand was resting gently on Cynthia’s belly. Both of them looked radiating with happiness.

Cynthia giggled and teased him, "You sneaked out to be with me. Won't that boring wife of yours get mad?"

Ethan didn't defend me. Instead, he chimed right in.

"Are you kidding? That idiot is completely clueless."

"Once the baby is born, I’ll transfer 5% of my company shares to you and the child. I only promised her 2%. You're my real treasure."

Cynthia blushed and playfully punched Ethan's chest. Her voice was smug and flirtatious.

"Oh, please. Who was the one who called me shameless and told me to get out of the Vance family for Chloe’s sake back then? Who dragged me to the airport and warned me never to bully her again?"

Ethan chuckled.

He caught her fist and kissed it gently.

"If I hadn't done that, do you think the Vance family would have let you off the hook?"

"Cynthia, I did all that to protect you. You're the only one I would ever go to such lengths for."

"Alright, don't be mad. Let me take you to Louis Vuitton to buy a couple of bags to cheer you up."

The two of them walked away, whispering sweet nothings.

I leaned against the wall at the corner, holding my belly. My hands and feet were ice-cold.

Even though I was mentally prepared, seeing it with my own eyes made me sob uncontrollably.

After a long time, I wiped my tears, stood up, and walked straight into the chief director's office.

Initially, the director tried to cover for Ethan, claiming I must have seen wrong. His eyes darted around nervously.

That was until I slammed a photo of the two of them holding hands in the hallway onto his desk.

The director began to stammer, "Mrs. Cole, this... this violates our privacy policy..."

I cut him off.

"Director, you should know that besides being Mrs. Cole, my last name is Vance."

"As in, the Vance Empire. If you keep hiding this, I can't guarantee you'll keep your job by tomorrow."

Terrified, the director trembled as he handed me a copy of Cynthia's medical records.

I pulled out the prenatal report. Right under the family signature section, the name "Ethan Cole" was written in bold, aggressive strokes. It pierced my eyes.

As I flipped the page, a paternity test report slid out.

In black and white, it proved that the child in Cynthia's womb was indeed Ethan’s.

"I trust you know what to say and what not to say, Director. I don't need to remind you, do I?"

Holding the folder, I walked out of the hospital.

I took out my phone and sent Ethan a text message:

[Babe, my friend said she saw Cynthia at the Louis Vuitton counter just now.]

[Is she back in the country?]