Chapter 1
Six years ago, I took a fatal blow for Jonathan Hayes. He held me and swore that in this life, he would only ever love me.
I never imagined that while the entire internet praised him as the ultimate devoted husband, he had already been keeping a mistress behind my back for five years—and even had a five-year-old son!
And when my child was born, I could only lie alone in the ICU.
In one week, I will leave for Europe to take over my family's empire.
He seems to have forgotten that his success was given to him by me, and I have the power to take it back.
The business empire he is so proud of is already teetering on the brink of collapse.
Vivian Sterling POV
In our sixth year of marriage, Jonathan Hayes became the widely acclaimed CEO of Hayes Group.
On the covers of financial magazines, he was a young, brilliant prodigy.
In high society, he was the model husband who loved only me.
Until today, when I saw my husband—who was supposed to be away on a business trip—outside a private dining room at a restaurant.
The door was slightly ajar.
A man held a little boy of about five years old over his head, making the child giggle uncontrollably.
"Daddy! Higher! I want to touch the ceiling!" the little boy shouted.
Jonathan supported the boy under his arms and affectionately tapped the tip of his nose:
"I work so hard earning money out there just to buy a big castle for you and Mommy. You have to be a good boy and listen to her."
On the sofa nearby sat a gentle, delicate young woman.
Her eyes were full of adoration as she looked at Jonathan, naturally reaching out to smooth a wrinkle from his jacket:
"Jonathan, you rushed straight here right after getting off the plane without even resting. Don't spoil him so much."
"He's my son. Who else is going to spoil him?" Jonathan chuckled warmly, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek, earning a coy, playful swat from her.
Boom.
I froze outside the door. It felt as though countless steel needles were stabbing into my ears, leaving my mind completely blank.
Daddy? Mommy? His son?
The boy's features were practically carved from the same mold as Jonathan's.
That boy was at least five years old.
Then what about five years ago?
Five years ago was the most grueling period of Jonathan's startup.
My fingers began to tremble uncontrollably, and subconsciously, through my coat, I pressed my hand against my lower abdomen.
There, a scar nearly twenty centimeters long stretched across my skin.
In the late autumn five years ago, Jonathan's business dealings offended a prominent local boss.
The man swung a steel pipe, intending to break Jonathan's arms and cripple him.
It was me who threw myself forward without hesitation, shielding Jonathan beneath my body.
The steel pipe struck my abdomen violently, causing internal organ ruptures, massive hemorrhaging, and shock.
I spent three days and nights in critical condition in the ICU, where not only was my uterus removed,
but I was also dealt the devastating news that I was permanently infertile.
I would never forget the moment I woke up after surviving the ordeal.
Jonathan fell to his knees before my hospital bed, slapping himself like a madman in front of all the doctors and nurses, sobbing in anguish:
"All I need in this life is you! If I ever betray you, may God punish me!"
Those vows still echoed in my ears.
Yet reality had turned into the tender scene before me, striking across my face like a vicious slap, turning six years of devotion and trust into a complete joke!
While Jonathan, with rimmed red eyes, told the public he chose to be child-free just to stand by me—earning himself a stellar reputation as a devoted lover—
he had already taken a mistress behind my back and fathered an heir!
How ironic.
He wanted his persona as the devoted husband, yet he also wanted an heir.
He wanted the fortune secretly paved by my family, yet he also wanted his inflated vanity!
I stumbled back two steps, my fingernails digging deep into my palms, yet I couldn't feel the slightest pain.
I didn't barge in to make a scene.
I was a daughter of the Sterling family. The pride and dignity etched into my bones would never allow me to act like a lunatic, losing my composure before a mistress and an illegitimate child.
I bit down hard on my lower lip until I tasted the heavy iron of blood, forcing down every drop of humiliation and heartache.
So, I wiped away my tears, turned, and walked back to my table.
By the window, Natalie Cole was sipping her coffee.
Seeing me walk back in a daze, Natalie hurriedly stood up to support me:
"Vivian? What's wrong?"
I sat down, picked up the glass of ice water that had gone completely cold, and drank it all in one gulp.
The freezing liquid slid down my esophagus and into my stomach, sending a chill through my whole body, but finally restoring a deathly clarity to my chaotic mind.
I lifted my head, my once clear eyes now cold as a frozen lake.
"Natalie," I spoke, my voice terribly hoarse, yet devoid of any warmth.
"What is it, Vivian? Don't scare me. What happened?" Natalie asked, her brow furrowing.
I raised my right hand, and then forced out a sentence:
"Please, help me investigate Jonathan Hayes."
Natalie paused. "Investigate Jonathan? Investigate what?"
A self-deprecating smirk curved the edge of my lips as I said calmly:
"Find the woman he's keeping. Find out if he has a five-year-old illegitimate son, and find out exactly when that child was born."