Chapter 3

I moved into a studio near the university that rented for three hundred dollars a month.

Next door was a restaurant. Cooking fumes seeped in through the window cracks.

I sat on the hard bed and stared at the pregnancy test for a long time. The two lines were piercingly clear.

My phone rang. Ethan.

"Emily, you haven't canceled the company's secondary card yet."

"I'll do it when we go to court tomorrow."

"Okay."

Just as I was about to hang up, Zoey's voice came from his end. "Ethan, does she still have the company access card? I saw one in her bag last time."

Ethan paused. "Bring the access card too."

"Anything else?"

"That's all for now."

He hung up. The phone screen was still lit, the chat background still showing the coffee photo from the day Ethan and I started dating, with our two silhouettes making heart shapes beside it.

Ethan and I first met at a coffee shop.

I was working as a barista at the coffee shop. Ethan came in to order, and the moment our eyes met, we realized we were each other's fated mates.

We fell in love at first sight. In the following days, Ethan kept coming to the coffee shop where I worked to buy coffee. When I wasn't there, he'd look disappointed.

Back then, I was also secretly watching him with his sincere eyes. So within a few days, Ethan and I got together.

After we got married, Ethan started his business. He said he would definitely give me a good life.

But now it seemed those vows were completely unreliable.

And Ethan had no idea just how wealthy my family really was.

He only knew that his wife worked as a barista at a coffee shop, earning three thousand dollars a month.

For three years of marriage, I'd maintained this persona.

Early the next morning, Ethan's mother Lily called.

"Emily, are you done packing?"

"I'm packing."

"Don't bother with those clothes of yours—they weren't anything good to begin with. Also, those pickles you used to make at home—Zoey says they taste pretty good and wants the recipe."

I'd made pickles for three years. Ethan ate them every day. My mother-in-law had never once complimented them.

"I'm not giving it."

"What kind of person are you?" Lily's tone immediately changed. "You're already divorced and you're still being petty. Do you know who Zoey is? Her asking for your pickle recipe is doing you a favor."

"What kind of person is she?"

"Zoey's parents run an international trading company. Do you think everyone's like you making coffee at a coffee shop?" Lily lowered her voice.

"Emily, I'll be honest with you. I was never really satisfied when I let Ethan marry you. You've been diligent these three years, but people climb upward. Ethan's company is slowly taking off now, and you can't keep up."

"Zoey is Ethan's first love. They were always a perfect match. She came back from abroad. Don't get in the way."

Last year, Ethan nearly went bankrupt over a bad debt and couldn't even pay his employees' salaries. That month, I used my dad's connections to recover that bad debt.

Ethan thought the other party had a change of heart and voluntarily repaid.

He was so happy when he came home that day. He hugged me and said, "Honey, we're so lucky."

"I'm not giving the pickle recipe. Is there anything else you need to ask?"

Lily hung up angrily.

Half an hour later, Ethan sent a message: My mom says your attitude was bad. We're already breaking the mate bond. Don't make this uglier than it needs to be.

I didn't reply.

I turned my phone face down on the bed and touched my belly.

In three months my belly would start showing. By then I'd return home and take my place as the Alpha's heir—the only descendant who successfully conceived.

Ethan's painstakingly managed company was worth three million. In the Moonridge pack, that didn't even rank.

I was about to break the mate bond with Ethan soon. I was afraid the rejection would affect the baby in my belly, so I used my family's connections to find a witch who had a good relationship with my dad and got a potion from her that would prevent harm to the fetus during rejection.

The next day, Ethan and I registered our divorce at the hospital and broke our mate bond.

Afterward, I went to the hospital to register for prenatal care. While waiting after registration, my phone rang again.

Zoey, calling from Ethan's phone.

"Emily, sorry to bother you. I found a bottle of folic acid in your old bedroom. I wanted to ask if it's yours or if it was left in the house from before?"

Folic acid. That was what I'd been taking while trying to conceive.

I gripped my phone tightly.

"Throw it away. It's expired."

"Okay. By the way, Ethan asked me to ask you—when will you cancel the secondary card?"

"Tomorrow."

"Great, bye."

She hung up. My hand was trembling. Not from anger, but from fear.

Zoey found the folic acid.

"Will she guess something?" I stared at my phone, talking to myself. No one answered.