Chapter 1

To force me to apologize to his first love, my husband froze every bank account in my name.

In the family hospital corridor, I knelt in front of a video call, my seven-month pregnant belly propped up, begging him to save my baby—the one that was slipping away.

Before long, a recording of me kneeling and crying was posted on Serena's social media account:

"Look, everyone—this is a classic 'poor me' woman. Using her own unborn child as leverage to guilt-trip a man."

"In this situation, you must ignore every sound she makes. Do not fuel her arrogance."

That post shot to the top of the trending charts.

Serena's "Toxic Relationship Detection Course" sold a hundred thousand copies in an instant, netting her five million on the spot.

Alessandro sent me a message:

[Since you made Serena money this time, I'll let you off the hook for the apology.]

I lay on the cold stretcher, hearing the news that the baby couldn't be saved, and closed my eyes with a bitter smile.

At the same time, my phone pinged with an e-ticket for a flight to North America three days later:

[Three days. I'll go with you to North America for the delivery. Stop making a scene.]

Serena smiled lightly in her livestream:

"After all, this is her specialty—a woman's tactics to control a man are still pretty easy to spot."

"Today's case is a bit extreme. Usually, even a woman who wants to control a man knows that even a tiger won't eat its own cub. But this one used her own baby as a tool—you could say she's past the point of no return."

In no time, the hashtag "Serena Exposes Emotional Manipulators" blew up on the trending list.

TV news did a live cross with Serena, and their ratings hit the highest of the night.

I turned off my phone, quietly wrapped my little one's cremains box in soft velvet cloth, and placed it in a small grave I'd just dug by the river, along with a few tiny clothes I'd knitted that he never got to wear:

"Baby, it's cold on the road. Put these on before you go."

I knelt in front of the little headstone and finally broke down, covering my face as I sobbed.

After paying my respects, dawn was almost breaking.

My phone rang urgently—it was Serena:

"Sister, why didn't you answer when Alessandro called you? You're only a month or two from your due date—this isn't the time to throw a tantrum, is it?"

I pushed open the front door, and there was Serena, phone in hand. When she saw me, she tugged at Alessandro with a bright, startled smile:

"Alessandro! Sister's back!"

"I told you I'd go with you to North America for the delivery. Is this your new scam—running away because you couldn't squeeze money out of me?"

Alessandro strode toward me, eyes bloodshot, voice frantic:

"Do you have any idea how dangerous it is for a pregnant woman to wander off in the middle of the night?"

Serena glanced at his anxious expression, and the smile at the corner of her mouth cooled involuntarily. Then she turned to me and sweetened her voice:

"Yeah, Sister, even if you're upset with Alessandro, you shouldn't drag the baby into your tantrum~”

Alessandro gave me a shove:

"Go. Pack your things. I'm taking you to a hotel near the airport tonight."

I was wearing a loose maternity dress that hid my figure completely. He hadn't noticed my belly was flat.

"No need." I pressed my hand to my lower abdomen, and the maternity dress sank inward:

"There's no point anymore."

Alessandro turned back, and his breath caught.

Serena covered her mouth:

"Sister! Just because Alessandro didn't fall for your trick, you went and aborted the baby out of spite?"

Her eyes reddened as she looked at Alessandro:

"Alessandro! How could she do that!"