Chapter 04

Silence filled the hospital room. Clutching my chest, I heard Simon say, "Jason signed the contract last night. The Wallace family's market value has now surpassed that of Tucker Group."

"You don't need to threaten me with Rose anymore."

Simon paused and continued, "Let's get a divorce."

His words felt like a knife, cutting my heart piece by piece.

I suddenly burst into laughter, a harsh, barely noticeable pain mingling within it.

Tears reddening my eyes, I asked resentfully, "If you don't like me, why did you come close to me? If you don't love me, why did you touch me?"

Simon stood up, his presence imposing.

Stubbornly, I didn't step back, holding his gaze, only to hear him say, "To you, it's just a marriage of convenience. When I held you from behind, all I could think about was..."

Terrified of hearing that name, I raised my hand and slapped Simon.

Simon's head turned to one side.

The voice of my father also rose from behind, filled with anger and accusation. "What are you doing here? Haven't you hurt my daughter enough?"

My father had married into the Tucker family to save his then-ill wife.

Handsome but penniless, he was my mother's secretary.

Rose's biological mother was sent to the top hospital abroad but did not survive.

My father secretly cried in his room, and the four-year-old me, entering to hug him, was pushed away subconsciously as he said, "Please... Stay away from me."

Tears came to my eyes as I remembered this. Turning to him, I asked, "Am I not your daughter then?"

My father paused for a second, reflexively retorting, "I never loved your mother."

I grabbed a water kettle and threw it, splashing water on his pant legs, and yelled at him, "What does that have to do with me? I am still your daughter!"

Perhaps feeling he had gone too far, my father's voice softened. "I promised your mother I'd leave after you got married. I won't interfere between you and Simon."

"Where to?" I asked, my voice trembling.

My father moved next to Rose, staring at her face, delicate like his deceased wife's. He didn't look at me again, his words cutting deep.

"I'm leaving this city and leaving you. Every time I see you, it's hard for me. I will never forgive myself in this lifetime."

Why would he utter such callous words about my fate?

I staggered back a step, my high heel unsteady.

I nearly fell onto a pile of broken glass, but Simon caught me and said to my father, "I'm taking her out."

I let Simon lead me out. We stopped at the door, and after a moment, he said, "Go back. We'll talk after Rose's matter is settled."

How absurd.

I glanced at the azure sky and told Simon, "I'm pregnant. It's either her or the child. You choose."

Simon paused his retreat but didn't turn around. With his back to me, he said, "If there's room for Rose, keep it. If there isn't... Just get rid of it."

My expression slowly darkened.

Back home, I wandered aimlessly, finally stopping in front of my mother's door.

Entering, I was greeted by a musty, moldy smell, though it had only been a month since I last saw her.

I picked up a photo frame. It was a picture of her holding me, with my dad, who was barely smiling.

There was also an old notebook on the table.

I flipped through the notebook, inadvertently unveiling my mother's thoughts.

"For three years in high school, he never changed his uniform. Is someone really that poor? Then he should marry into our family, right?"

"I thought he was good at everything because of his grades, but he couldn't swim. Thankfully, I was a good swimmer. Otherwise, who would have saved him in such deep water?"

"How could they think it was my deskmate, the school beauty, who saved him? And that it was love at first sight..."

The notebook fell to the floor.

I gasped for air, my chest tight, vision blackening, legs weakening until I collapsed and sat down, finally losing control and breaking down in tears.

Why were we all so foolish? Why...

The women in our family always fell for men who didn't love them back. I couldn't let my child inherit this mad gene.

After drying my tears, I stared blankly at the ceiling, then picked up my phone and dialed,

"Mr. Hart, schedule an appointment with the OB-GYN. I’m still in the first trimester of pregnancy. The earlier I got rid of the baby, the better."