Chapter 2

"This baby is very healthy."

"I'm having an abortion today."

The doctor and I spoke at the same time.

The two of us stared at each other in surprise, stunned for a moment.

In ten years I had never once changed my prenatal doctor.

He knew better than anyone.

Just how hard-won this third child was.

"I remember you and your husband are so devoted. He always comes with you to your checkups."

"Are you sure you want to do this? Your husband even had me checking—"

"I'm sure."

The moment Damian came up, even my last hesitation was gone.

He was born to a mistress.

From childhood he suffered beatings and cold stares.

Even to see his own mother one last time before she died.

He had to beg and plead with the first wife.

The same suffering.

How could I bear to let my own child go through it a second time?

Lying on the cold operating table.

The doctor's scalpel went into me.

Damian's texts buzzed until my hands went numb.

Babe, I've taken care of the doctor. Don't forget to ask the gender.

If it's a girl, would you think about getting rid of it?

It's not that I don't want it, it's just that Mom wants a boy, and I'm afraid you'll get pushed out.

A sharp pain tore through my body.

The baby was gone.

But my heart felt lighter.

I paid the doctor a sum to keep quiet.

And sent Damian a cutesy sticker.

Mm-hmm, I know my husband only wants what's best for me.

The doctor said it's a boy.

Watching him excitedly bombard me with all kinds of stickers.

I finally realized.

Damian had changed completely.

He once said his greatest wish was to give me and our child a normal family.

"Boy or girl, both are my treasure."

"The people I hate most are those old-fashioned ones."

He had become the very thing he once hated.

I pulled out the IV line.

And went home alone.

I pushed open the door.

The tidy home Damian and I once shared had become an utter mess.

A woman's high heels were scattered all over the floor.

On the coffee table in the living room sat a half-finished cup of trendy bubble tea.

This apartment.

It was the wedding home Damian and I bought with our first pot of gold.

And now.

The marriage certificate was fake.

And Damian had brought another woman into the wedding home too.

My lower belly ached and cramped after the miscarriage.

I circled through the apartment and couldn't find anyone.

I wanted to rest in the master bedroom.

But I found the master bedroom locked.

I could even hear a man's and a woman's heavy breathing tangled together inside.

They were talking:

"Go easy, don't hurt the baby."

"Okay, I'll be gentle."

"I heard your family is very traditional. If the gender's wrong, do you need me to—"

"No need. Abortions damage the body. The son Candice Winfield gives birth to, I'll hand over for you to raise. It's the same thing."

Damian still didn't care about the gender.

Only.

The person he'd overlook the child's gender for was no longer me.

One light, careless line from him.

And I had become Doreen Fox's breeding tool.

Before, I would have been sad and furious beyond words.

But now I was strangely calm.

I even pulled out my hand and first replied to the rival firm's partnership message.

I'd sold all my shares.

Joined the rival firm's board of directors.

Confirmed that next week, on Damian's wedding day.

I would drop in on the rival firm's North American branch.

Only once all of this was done.

Did I take a deep breath.

I pressed down hard on the locked door handle.

Then, faking a breakdown, I pounded wildly on the door.

"Damian, could you open the door for me?"

"You're sleeping, right? There's no way you'd be with someone else—"

The room went instantly silent.

I let myself collapse to the floor.

Sniffling, imitating the sound of someone sobbing until she was worn out.

Just as expected.

After a little while, the door opened.

Damian scooped me up in one motion.

"Doreen and I aren't with anyone else."

Inside, I sneered.

But I rested my chin on Damian's shoulder.

My eyes stayed fixed on Doreen on the bed.

I tilted my head and, right in front of her, provocatively kissed the hickey she'd left.

And whined pitifully:

"But your son and I missed you so much."

A flicker of feeling crossed Damian's annoyed, interrupted expression despite himself.

He gently pushed me out the door.

"Stop it. Things like this—you're the mistress, you have to learn to get used to it."

"I'm not making a scene! I just wanted—"

I grabbed the hem of Damian's shirt, tears falling:

"I just wanted you to say you love me most."

"I'm so easy to please."

Damian gave in helplessly.

After the door closed.

I rubbed the corners of my mouth, stiff from crying.

Damian had just transferred ten million into my bank account.

Candice, you and our son have had it hard. Here's the Henson family's rent for the year. Use it to buy yourself and the child some nicer things.

I lifted my hand and replied:

Thank you, honey. You're the best, Damian. I'll go make you and Doreen some dessert now. Take your time.

Inside, because Damian had said he loved me most, Doreen.

Got into a huge fight with him.

"Doreen, that was just something I say to smooth things over. Can't you have a little sense?"

"You want me to have sense? Damian, have you forgotten who holds the cards here?"

"If your elder brother hadn't died unexpectedly, would I ever have married someone born to a mistress like you, just for the Hensons' sake?"

Just as I'd predicted, a rift had grown between them.

And I couldn't keep the smile off my face.

You have to reel someone in slowly; rush it, and the money's gone.

The more lovesick I acted.

The more Damian and the Hensons would let their guard down around me.

A mere diamond ring and ten million.

Wasn't the big prize I was after.