Chapter 5

My eyes were burning red.

I completely lost control. I lunged forward and grabbed her by the hair.

"You killed my Dada. So let your baby pay for it."

I was Rachel. I'd fought my way up alongside Ethan for years. Everyone respected me.

Why the hell should I take this from his mistress?

I pulled up the recording I'd just made of what Ethan said and played it out loud.

"He told me himself — he only picked you because you were poor. After the baby's born, I'll be the one raising it. You really think he loves you that much? He's a businessman. Whatever he feels for you, it won't last."

Yvonne went wild. She threw herself at me, clawing and fighting. "Liar! Ethan said he'd make me his wife! He gave me those shares because he wants to divorce you!"

The shares.

It finally clicked. Ethan had been afraid that if I found out the truth, I'd leave. So he stripped away my assets first.

A woman with no parents, no money, and nowhere to go — he figured I'd have no choice but to stay.

But he was wrong. My Aunt Claire had built a business empire in Europe. When my parents died, she'd wanted to take me with her.

She'd told me once: *If you ever choose the wrong man, come find me. Anytime.*

I'd already been in contact with her. She was sending someone to get me soon.

Yvonne had her hands around my throat. I stumbled backward into the table. A box of condoms fell to the floor.

She let out a cold laugh. "Strawberry flavor — our favorite. But now when Ethan and I sleep together, we don't bother with those anymore. If you need them, I can gift them to you."

Her words ignited something in me. I shoved her down hard. When she hit the ground, I hit her — once, twice. Her lip split. She tore open her own shirt.

She bared the red marks covering her skin, then turned them toward me like a trophy.

"See all of this? Ethan left every single one. Men are driven by desire — I'm already pregnant and he still can't keep his hands off me. I doubt he even wants to touch you anymore. You're boring. You're old to him."

I froze.

It was true — Ethan had never been passionate with me in bed. He always said it was because he loved me too much to be rough with me. That I was precious to him.

Something cracked open inside me.

I snapped. I grabbed her face, pressing down, my hands shaking as I drove her head against the floor.

"Shut up! Give me back my Dada!"

She thrashed wildly, stretching toward her phone to call for help.

"I'm pregnant! If anything happens to me, Ethan will destroy you!"

The sound of Dada's desperate cries was still echoing in my head. I could barely see straight. My hands wouldn't stop.

Then the door burst open.

A foot drove hard into my stomach — no hesitation, full force.

"Rachel! Have you lost your mind!"

The impact hurled me to the floor. Through blurred vision, I saw Ethan's face — pale, horrified.

Something warm spread beneath me. I looked down.

A dark red stain was pooling around me, soaking into the floor.

The pain in my stomach was unbearable.

Before everything went black, I heard Ethan's voice screaming.

"Rachel! Call 911!"

When I came to, I was in a hospital bed. My whole body felt like it had been run over.

My throat was raw. I tried to speak. Nothing came out.

The doctor let out a slow breath of relief. "You can't take falls like that when you're pregnant. We almost lost the baby."

I lay there, staring up at the ceiling.

The child I'd waited so long for had decided to show up now — right when I'd found out about the affair, right when I'd asked for a divorce.

I reached down and pressed my hand against my still-flat stomach.

The doctor said, "If everything goes smoothly, you'll need to take care of yourself for the rest of the pregnancy."

I'd lost my parents. I'd lost my husband. I'd lost Dada.

If I lost this baby too, I didn't know how I would keep going.

But the problem now was this: how was I going to make Ethan believe the baby was already gone?

My child didn't deserve a father like him.