"Cynthia" stared at my dad in shock, then suddenly bowed before him. "Mr. Woodward, what a surprise to see you in Ironreach! "Why didn't you let me know you were coming? I could have arranged for my dad to give you a proper welcome." As soon as she finished speaking, the faces of "Cynthia's" entourage soured instantly. They looked at her with disdain, their hushed voices clear enough to hear. "She's the fake heiress, hurting the real one? She must have a death wish." "That child was killed by her own hands. I had nothing to do with it." "At most, we were accomplices, but she's the real murderer here." "We should report her. After all, she forced us to do this, and we hardly knew the real heiress. It's understandable to make a mistake." "Cynthia", who was bowing, listened to their words, and her already ghastly expression darkened further. She crawled closer to my dad, tears streaming down her face as she pleaded, "It's all a misunderstanding! This is all Olive
After I had my son cremated, I passed out. When I opened my eyes again, it was three days later. Dazed, I held my son's ashes close to me, sitting in the most luxurious presidential suite in Ironreach, watching Oliver and Cindy engage in an online war. Cindy had unveiled a series of shady incidents from Oliver's time abroad, where he had been entangled with multiple female students. She not only provided evidence but also laid out the timeline clearly, making it easy for the onlookers to follow along. The most outrageous part was that Cindy had tracked down the women involved, who collectively reported Oliver, claiming he had used deception, drugs, and coercion to manipulate them. Afterward, he not only failed to keep his promises but also denied knowing them. As I stared at the timeline online, a sharp pain gripped my heart. It turned out that during that period when he was so busy that he had no time for me, he had actually been fooling around with others. I h
With me pushing from behind, Cindy's situation quickly dominated the headlines across all platforms. Thugs with cameras gathered outside Cindy's home, relentlessly blocking her way. Every time she stepped out, they rushed forward to broadcast her shame live. After several encounters, Cindy could no longer bear it and called the police. The officers arrived and took the thugs away, but I had arranged for some sharp-tongued women and those whose marriages had been wrecked by mistresses to join the fray. These people were far more terrifying than the thugs. Especially the betrayed wives, who, once they learned about Cindy's past, began a relentless campaign of harassment against her, determined to drive her to the edge. They even pooled their own money to take turns calling her with threats. After Cindy's scandal broke, the dirty secrets behind her company's third-party intervention advisors started to surface one after another. Their clients banded together to sue Cindy
Next, it was his turn. Oliver had invited me to a café. The location was nice, and the café exuded luxury, a perfect match for his façade of wealth that was just for show. Today, he had dressed meticulously, wearing a tailored suit, his hair neatly styled, but the gauntness of his cheeks betrayed the toll the past weeks had taken on him. As soon as I sat down, he eagerly poured me some water. "I remember you don't like lemon water, so I specifically asked for plain water." I glanced at the cup he had touched, and a wave of disgust washed over me. "Cindy killed herself." His expression froze, and he looked at me with wide eyes, his voice trembling. "You said that you would let the winner go. Now that Cindy is dead, I've won, right? You'll give me a chance to live, won't you?" "Did you ever love Cindy?" Oliver shook his head without hesitation, urgency lacing his voice as he declared his loyalty. "No, I was only with her to gain access to the resources of the wealthy
"Drag that shameless mistress off the delivery bed. She has no right to give birth to Oliver's child." I weakly propped myself up from the bed, panic-stricken as I watched the women approach me. Instinctively, I wrapped my hands around my belly, which was contracting rhythmically. My voice trembled as I asked, "Who are you? How did you get in here? Where's my doctor?" The woman leading the group slapped me across the face. Two others grabbed my arms, one pulling while the other pushed, forcing me off the delivery bed. As I fell, I clutched my stomach tightly, letting my head slam into the floor. The impact made my vision go black, and a wave of nausea hit me hard. Before I could even vomit, the violent contractions had me curling up in pain. I looked up at the woman standing over me, my voice trembling with desperation. "I'm about to give birth... please, call a doctor." She sneered down at me, crouching as she yanked my hair. "How dare you, a mistress, try to se
Upon hearing the woman's command, they immediately started the livestream, dragging me forcefully in front of the camera. My stomach was in excruciating pain as I pleaded with them, "Please, help me call a doctor. I can give you anything you want. Just let me go…"But they didn't care about my suffering at all. They pinned me down, forcing me to face the camera. On screen, I was drenched in sweat, my lips turning purple and my face pale. I held my increasingly contracting belly with both hands, my body writhing in agony. I looked desperately at the woman closest to me and begged again, "I'm really about to give birth. Please, save me…" She scoffed, slapping me across the face and aiming the camera at me. "This shameless woman dared to steal the fiancé of the richest man's daughter. With the heiress present today, we will teach her a lesson." After finishing her speech, she pulled the camera back and kicked me hard in the stomach. "Children born of mistresses are b*st
The moment the child hit the ground, I stood frozen, my mind a blur. As reality hit me, I stumbled through the chaos, my body drenched in blood, trembling as I crawled toward my child. My heart felt as if it were being squeezed tightly, the pain so intense that I could hardly breathe. Shaking, I gingerly lifted him into my arms, but the cries I had just heard were replaced by an unsettling silence. Looking down at his ashen, bluish face, despair washed over me. I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Desperate, I tried to push myself up and run for a doctor, but my legs felt like jelly, and I fell repeatedly without gaining my footing. I collapsed to the ground, cradling him close, my palm gently patting his tiny body in a futile attempt to comfort him. Before he was born, I had imagined countless nights wrapped around him as he slept. Throughout my pregnancy, I had braved stormy weather to attend infant care classes, learning how to burp him after feed
Oliver. I lifted my gaze to meet Oliver's furrowed brow. He looked at me with disdain, turning his eyes away in disgust. "Karen Woodward, how did you let yourself get into this state?"I told you long ago to stop interfering in my life. Why did you insist on getting close to me?"Do you really think that just because you had my child, I would marry you? You're dreaming. The only person I love is Cynthia." Hearing those words felt like my heart was being ripped apart. Even though I had suspected his betrayal—being cornered by "Cynthia" in the delivery room was a clear sign—I still winced at his words meant to placate her, drawing a line between us. We had loved each other for eight years. From helping each other in a foreign land to struggling together when we returned to start a business, we had never given up on each other, even during the toughest times. Now, with my father's covert support, his company had successfully gone public, and his career was thriving.
Next, it was his turn. Oliver had invited me to a café. The location was nice, and the café exuded luxury, a perfect match for his façade of wealth that was just for show. Today, he had dressed meticulously, wearing a tailored suit, his hair neatly styled, but the gauntness of his cheeks betrayed the toll the past weeks had taken on him. As soon as I sat down, he eagerly poured me some water. "I remember you don't like lemon water, so I specifically asked for plain water." I glanced at the cup he had touched, and a wave of disgust washed over me. "Cindy killed herself." His expression froze, and he looked at me with wide eyes, his voice trembling. "You said that you would let the winner go. Now that Cindy is dead, I've won, right? You'll give me a chance to live, won't you?" "Did you ever love Cindy?" Oliver shook his head without hesitation, urgency lacing his voice as he declared his loyalty. "No, I was only with her to gain access to the resources of the wealthy
With me pushing from behind, Cindy's situation quickly dominated the headlines across all platforms. Thugs with cameras gathered outside Cindy's home, relentlessly blocking her way. Every time she stepped out, they rushed forward to broadcast her shame live. After several encounters, Cindy could no longer bear it and called the police. The officers arrived and took the thugs away, but I had arranged for some sharp-tongued women and those whose marriages had been wrecked by mistresses to join the fray. These people were far more terrifying than the thugs. Especially the betrayed wives, who, once they learned about Cindy's past, began a relentless campaign of harassment against her, determined to drive her to the edge. They even pooled their own money to take turns calling her with threats. After Cindy's scandal broke, the dirty secrets behind her company's third-party intervention advisors started to surface one after another. Their clients banded together to sue Cindy
After I had my son cremated, I passed out. When I opened my eyes again, it was three days later. Dazed, I held my son's ashes close to me, sitting in the most luxurious presidential suite in Ironreach, watching Oliver and Cindy engage in an online war. Cindy had unveiled a series of shady incidents from Oliver's time abroad, where he had been entangled with multiple female students. She not only provided evidence but also laid out the timeline clearly, making it easy for the onlookers to follow along. The most outrageous part was that Cindy had tracked down the women involved, who collectively reported Oliver, claiming he had used deception, drugs, and coercion to manipulate them. Afterward, he not only failed to keep his promises but also denied knowing them. As I stared at the timeline online, a sharp pain gripped my heart. It turned out that during that period when he was so busy that he had no time for me, he had actually been fooling around with others. I h
"Cynthia" stared at my dad in shock, then suddenly bowed before him. "Mr. Woodward, what a surprise to see you in Ironreach! "Why didn't you let me know you were coming? I could have arranged for my dad to give you a proper welcome." As soon as she finished speaking, the faces of "Cynthia's" entourage soured instantly. They looked at her with disdain, their hushed voices clear enough to hear. "She's the fake heiress, hurting the real one? She must have a death wish." "That child was killed by her own hands. I had nothing to do with it." "At most, we were accomplices, but she's the real murderer here." "We should report her. After all, she forced us to do this, and we hardly knew the real heiress. It's understandable to make a mistake." "Cynthia", who was bowing, listened to their words, and her already ghastly expression darkened further. She crawled closer to my dad, tears streaming down her face as she pleaded, "It's all a misunderstanding! This is all Olive
My father looked at me with red-rimmed eyes, his voice choked with emotion as he cautiously reached up to stroke my hair. "Karen, I'm so sorry for what you've endured." Unable to hold back any longer, I threw myself into his embrace, sobbing uncontrollably. I clutched his arms tightly, wanting to pour out every ounce of anguish I felt. My father gently patted my back, murmuring, "It's okay now. I'm here. I'll make sure to destroy anyone who has hurt you." My cries echoed loudly, drawing "Cynthia" and her entourage out of the delivery room. My father turned his back to them, hiding his face from view. Seeing me with tears streaming down my face, "Cynthia" scoffed, "Oh, look at that! The mistress has a sugar daddy after all."I figured someone like you, a side piece, would be just a scum without parents, raised by no one." My father's fists clenched in anger, and he almost turned around to confront her, but I gripped his arm tightly. He frowned at me, and I shook my
Oliver. I lifted my gaze to meet Oliver's furrowed brow. He looked at me with disdain, turning his eyes away in disgust. "Karen Woodward, how did you let yourself get into this state?"I told you long ago to stop interfering in my life. Why did you insist on getting close to me?"Do you really think that just because you had my child, I would marry you? You're dreaming. The only person I love is Cynthia." Hearing those words felt like my heart was being ripped apart. Even though I had suspected his betrayal—being cornered by "Cynthia" in the delivery room was a clear sign—I still winced at his words meant to placate her, drawing a line between us. We had loved each other for eight years. From helping each other in a foreign land to struggling together when we returned to start a business, we had never given up on each other, even during the toughest times. Now, with my father's covert support, his company had successfully gone public, and his career was thriving.
The moment the child hit the ground, I stood frozen, my mind a blur. As reality hit me, I stumbled through the chaos, my body drenched in blood, trembling as I crawled toward my child. My heart felt as if it were being squeezed tightly, the pain so intense that I could hardly breathe. Shaking, I gingerly lifted him into my arms, but the cries I had just heard were replaced by an unsettling silence. Looking down at his ashen, bluish face, despair washed over me. I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Desperate, I tried to push myself up and run for a doctor, but my legs felt like jelly, and I fell repeatedly without gaining my footing. I collapsed to the ground, cradling him close, my palm gently patting his tiny body in a futile attempt to comfort him. Before he was born, I had imagined countless nights wrapped around him as he slept. Throughout my pregnancy, I had braved stormy weather to attend infant care classes, learning how to burp him after feed
Upon hearing the woman's command, they immediately started the livestream, dragging me forcefully in front of the camera. My stomach was in excruciating pain as I pleaded with them, "Please, help me call a doctor. I can give you anything you want. Just let me go…"But they didn't care about my suffering at all. They pinned me down, forcing me to face the camera. On screen, I was drenched in sweat, my lips turning purple and my face pale. I held my increasingly contracting belly with both hands, my body writhing in agony. I looked desperately at the woman closest to me and begged again, "I'm really about to give birth. Please, save me…" She scoffed, slapping me across the face and aiming the camera at me. "This shameless woman dared to steal the fiancé of the richest man's daughter. With the heiress present today, we will teach her a lesson." After finishing her speech, she pulled the camera back and kicked me hard in the stomach. "Children born of mistresses are b*st
"Drag that shameless mistress off the delivery bed. She has no right to give birth to Oliver's child." I weakly propped myself up from the bed, panic-stricken as I watched the women approach me. Instinctively, I wrapped my hands around my belly, which was contracting rhythmically. My voice trembled as I asked, "Who are you? How did you get in here? Where's my doctor?" The woman leading the group slapped me across the face. Two others grabbed my arms, one pulling while the other pushed, forcing me off the delivery bed. As I fell, I clutched my stomach tightly, letting my head slam into the floor. The impact made my vision go black, and a wave of nausea hit me hard. Before I could even vomit, the violent contractions had me curling up in pain. I looked up at the woman standing over me, my voice trembling with desperation. "I'm about to give birth... please, call a doctor." She sneered down at me, crouching as she yanked my hair. "How dare you, a mistress, try to se