Chapter 3

The mirrored walls of the elevator showed a face as pale as a ghost.

I pressed the button for the lobby, leaning my body heavily against the cold metal wall to keep from collapsing.

The cramps in my abdomen were getting closer together. I could literally feel my strength draining away with the warm flow.

I can't pass out, I told myself. Chloe, you can't pass out. Your baby is counting on you.

Gritting my teeth against the blinding pain, I got into my car, slammed my foot on the gas, and sped toward the nearest hospital.

I blew past several red lights, my mind consumed by a single, desperate thought: Save my baby.

When I finally pulled up to the emergency room entrance, I practically fell out of the car.

"Doctor! Help! I'm pregnant... I'm bleeding!"

My voice was hoarse, thick with absolute terror.

The nurses reacted instantly, rushing out with a gurney and wheeling me straight into the trauma bay.

After what felt like an eternity of frantic exams and tests, the doctor walked over with a grim look on his face.

"Are you the patient's family?" he asked, looking surprised to see me lying there completely alone.

"I am the patient," I replied, my voice weak but steady.

"You have a threatened miscarriage triggered by extreme stress. Your progesterone levels are dangerously low, and there is active bleeding. This was caused by severe emotional shock and distress."

"We need to admit you immediately for fetal preservation. And you absolutely cannot be subjected to any more stress for the foreseeable future."

Hearing his words, tears silently rolled down my cheeks.

Emotional shock. Severe distress.

How incredibly accurate.

Lying in the sterile white room, surrounded by the scent of antiseptic, I felt a strange, sudden sense of peace.

Maybe this was a good thing.

Leaving that suffocating apartment was a release for both me and my baby.

I pulled out my phone, unlocked it, and dialed a familiar number.

It rang only once before she picked up.

"Hey, Chloe? What's up?" Fiona's sharp, capable voice came through the speaker.

I couldn't hold back my tears any longer. They poured down my face, though my voice remained eerily calm.

"Fiona, I need your help."

"I'm divorcing him."

Within thirty minutes, Fiona slammed open the door to my hospital room.

Seeing the IV line hooked to my hand and my lifeless, pale state, her usual cool composure shattered, and her eyes turned red.

"That absolute piece of shit! Where is Julian?!" she hissed, shaking with anger.

"Probably... still comforting his ex-wife and daughter," I let out a dry, bitter laugh.

Fiona punched the drywall in frustration, gritting her teeth. "I am going to rip those bastards apart right now!"

"Don't," I pulled her sleeve. "It's pointless. Screaming won't solve anything."

"Fiona, right now, I only care about saving my baby. Once that's done, I want to cut him out of my life completely."

"And I want him, and that mother-daughter duo, to pay for every single thing they did."

My voice was quiet, but the absolute coldness in my eyes made Fiona take a deep breath and calm down.

She nodded firmly. "Understood."

"Don't worry about a thing. Focus on the baby. Leave the rest to me."

She took charge immediately, handling my admission paperwork, upgrading me to a private suite, and hiring a top-tier private nurse.

Under her instructions, I shut off my phone and cut off all contact with the outside world.

Finally, the world went quiet.

Meanwhile, back at the place I used to call home.

Julian waited and waited, but I never returned.

He tried calling my phone, only to get my voicemail.

Panic finally began to set in.

He called my parents, who lived in another city. But I had already texted them beforehand, telling them Julian and I had a fight and that I was clearing my head, asking them not to worry and to ignore him.

So, my parents coldly told him they had no idea where I was.

Unable to find me, and terrified that I might actually do something that would ruin his reputation, Julian became increasingly manic.

Melanie sat on the sofa, holding Lily, looking "deeply worried." "Julian, did I cross the line? Do you think Chloe... would do something drastic? She's still pregnant..."

The more she talked, the more agitated Julian got.

He was starting to regret his actions. Not because he cared about the damage he caused me, but because the situation was spiraling out of his control, threatening his pristine reputation and comfortable life.

Fiona used her connections with local authorities to discreetly track Julian's movements.

She told me Julian had filed a missing person report, but the police couldn't locate me since I was checked into a private hospital wing under a pseudonym for privacy.

Meanwhile, Melanie and her daughter were still living comfortably in my apartment—a property I had purchased entirely on my own before our marriage.

Lying in my hospital bed, I rubbed my stomach, feeling the steady, fragile heartbeat of my baby.

My resolve had never been stronger.

Julian, Melanie.

This war is just getting started.

For the sake of my child, I am going to win this, and I am going to destroy you.

Eventually, Julian found the hospital.

By tracking the missing person report, he managed to find my medical admission records.

Two days later, carrying a fancy fruit basket and a thermos of soup, looking exhausted and deeply remorseful, he showed up at my door.

He wanted to play the part of the grieving, repentant husband.

Too bad the audience was already gone.

I had my private nurse block him at the door.

Then, I pressed the call button and asked my attending physician to speak with him outside.

A few minutes later, the doctor walked back in with a bizarre expression.

Julian followed behind him, looking pale as death.

I looked at him, then calmly addressed the doctor. "Doctor, could you please explain my condition and its cause to my husband once more?"

The doctor adjusted his glasses and spoke in a cold, professional tone.

"Mrs. Miller was admitted with a threatened miscarriage due to acute stress. The primary trigger was severe emotional distress and trauma, which led to abnormal uterine contractions and a dangerous drop in progesterone."

"We've managed to stabilize her with emergency treatments, but she is still in her first trimester. If she experiences any further emotional distress, she will likely lose the baby."