Chapter 1

I found a cat's pregnancy scan in my husband's car.

The cat was named "Luna," and the owner listed was my husband, Julian Vance.

I froze. I'm allergic to cat fur, and we'd never had a cat at home.

I called him: "Since when did you get a cat?"

He chuckled.

"There's a stray cat pregnant outside the office building. I felt bad for her, so I drove her to the vet. I know you're allergic, so I've been keeping her at the office."

I hung up without a word.

The scan report stated that "Luna" was a long-haired Persian cat.

But I remembered the cat the company adopted was a short-haired tabby.

1

I drove to the pet clinic listed on the scan report.

"My friend asked me to pick up Luna's health records."

The receptionist pulled up Luna's file for me.

Luna's Dad: Julian Vance.

Luna's Mom: Melanie Rivers.

Last year, out of pure sympathy, I had gone against protocol and hired Melanie as an intern for the logistics department. She came from a humble background and desperately needed a chance.

Now, it seemed, her "internship" had long since been "promoted."

My chest ached. I went straight to the office to confront Julian.

But when I got to his office, he wasn't there.

Before I resigned to care for our twin girls, I was the company's Vice President. My office was right next to his.

I hadn't worked in a long time, caring for our daughters.

Julian had once said:

"This office will always be yours, waiting for you to come back anytime."

But now, I heard a woman's soft moans coming from my old office.

Ignoring Sarah, his assistant, who tried to stop me, I kicked the door open.

"Julian, you're back!"

Melanie was sitting on a large bed. The moment she saw me, she shrieked and dove under the covers.

I was stunned.

This wasn't an office at all. It was clearly a private, luxurious suite.

A huge round bed sat by the window, and there was even a vanity and a wardrobe.

"Mr. Vance is still in a meeting, maybe you could…" Sarah mumbled behind me, not daring to look up.

I glanced at Melanie, trembling under the covers, and my eyes widened. The duvet was visibly mounded over her belly.

So, my husband wasn't just keeping a pregnant cat. He was keeping a pregnant woman.

I strode over, yanked the covers off, and glared at her face:

"How far along are you?!"

Tears streamed down Melanie's face, and in seconds, she burst into desperate sobs: "I'm so sorry, Char!"

"Charlotte, you're scaring her!"

A furious force shoved me aside, a blur of motion in my vision.

By the time I registered what happened, Julian was holding Melanie, gently patting her back:

"Don't be afraid, I'll protect you."

It was so utterly ironic!

Just this morning, before he left, he'd nuzzled my face and told me I was working hard taking care of our daughters, promising to take us to Disneyland in a few days.

Now, he was holding another woman, carefully avoiding her swollen belly, comforting her, promising to protect her.

A wave of overwhelming despair washed over me. I felt dizzy, reaching back for support, but I knocked over a photo frame instead.

In the picture, Julian was kneeling before Melanie, his large hands cradling her pregnant belly, his gaze tender as he looked up at her.

I looked at him, my voice ice-cold:

"Julian, you got another woman pregnant and let her live in my office!"

Melanie was startled again, her face pale as she clutched her stomach.

"Julian, I hurt…"

"Melanie, what's wrong! Call an ambulance!"

Julian panicked, immediately sweeping her into his arms and yelling at his assistant.

He acted as if I wasn't even there.

I couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed his arm forcefully:

"You're not going anywhere until you explain this!"

Julian yanked his arm free, careful not to hurt Melanie:

"Explain what? I'm telling you, Melanie is nine months pregnant! If anything happens to our baby, I'll never forgive you!"

With that, he carried Melanie out, leaving me standing there alone.

I gritted my teeth, then started smashing everything in that room.

2

It was dark by the time I got home.

Maria, our nanny, had put both my daughters to sleep.

I gently stroked their cheeks. The cold sweat and fury began to dissipate, and my heart slowly calmed.

These were my twin girls, born after countless ovulation shots and three rounds of IVF.

Five years ago, Julian came into the delivery room with me. He'd started by cracking jokes to help me relax, but then he cried more bitterly than I did:

"They're two girls… Will daughters have to give birth someday too? No, Char, we're not having any more kids. Our daughters won't have to either…"

Back then, I truly believed I had found the most wonderful man in the world.

For the next five years, he was consistently loving, our affection as strong as ever.

But today, all those illusions of love shattered.

My poor daughters, they had no idea their father was about to have another child.

Suddenly, I remembered the gold chain on Melanie' wrist.

Wasn't that the one I'd prepared for my daughters ever since they were born?

My heart pounded. I rushed to the study, opened the safe, and saw my jewelry box was gone!

My heart sank. I called a friend:

"Help me find someone's address, fast… I need it now!"

Half an hour later, I drove to a secluded mountain villa in the suburbs.

A familiar face opened the door.

It was Maria, the nanny who had been taking care of me and our two daughters since I was pregnant.

Because the girls adored her, I paid her a high salary, intending to keep her until they grew up.

But she had said her son was getting married and resigned last year.

Turns out, Julian had brought her here to care for his next child.

"Ms. Hayes…"

My face hardened. I pushed past her and walked straight inside.

In the room nearest the door, the pregnant American Shorthair cat was stretching.

This room was twice the size of Julian's office, filled with cat supplies—a specially designed cat haven.

I continued walking, hearing Julian's soft murmur:

"It's okay now. Didn't the doctor say the baby is healthy?"

"All the stuff she broke can be bought again… It was just a photo frame, I'll just have the photo studio make you another one, alright?"

Through the crack in the door, I saw Melanie nestled in his arms, her finger tracing circles on his Adam's apple:

"But I'm so scared she'll come after me again. She won't tolerate me…"

Julian chuckled softly: "What are you afraid of? When have I ever let you suffer?"

My fingernails dug deep into my palms. I spoke, my voice cold:

"Julian, give me back the fund I set aside for my daughters' future."

Melanie's eyes widened. She let out a shriek and buried her face in his chest.

Julian's tenderness instantly turned to annoyance. He shielded her behind him, grabbed a bottle of makeup from the table, and threw it at me:

"What are you doing here? Melanie is almost due. Can't whatever you want to say wait until after she's given birth?!"

In ten years of marriage, he had only lost his temper with me twice.

Both times were today, both were for Melanie, and this time, he'd even laid hands on me.

The bottle hit my forehead. I felt a dizzying pain.

"I'll say it again. Give me back my daughters' nest egg, or I'm calling the police."

Julian frowned, seeing the blood trickling down my forehead, but before he could speak, Melanie suddenly knelt on the floor, clutching her pregnant belly, frantically taking off her bracelets and necklaces:

"Ms. Hayes, I'll give it all back! I'm sorry, I was shameless, you can hit me or scold me, but my baby is innocent, please, let my baby go…"

Julian tenderly helped her up.

"Why are you talking about yourself like that? What if the baby hears you?"

Then he looked at me, his eyes cold and devoid of warmth:

"Charlotte, since you know everything, I won't hide it anymore."

"Melanie is carrying a son, my son! Your two daughters are useless, they don't need any future fund. I've given that whole box to Melanie."

"But don't make a big deal out of it. Melanie isn't asking for an official title. As long as you don't go after her and my son, you'll always be Mrs. Vance."

His son.

My daughters.

So, that's how clearly he distinguished between boys and girls.

He no longer loved me, and certainly not our daughters.

What was the point of staying with him?

I took two steps forward, picked up the custom-made diamond bracelet, which was now broken in two, and said coldly.

"No need. Since she's the mother of your son, of course, I'll step aside."

"Julian, we're getting a divorce."

Then, under Melanie's horrified gaze, I dialed 91