Chapter 2

"Careful, lie down slowly. The doctor is a bit busy right now. Should I buy you some flowers to cheer you up?"

"No need."

I stared blankly out the window. Remembering the nurses' gossip, I added, "They say disabled people age faster than normal. Julian, will you paint a portrait of me?"

"You're so sick. How could I have the heart to paint right now?"

Julian frowned, popping a sweet mandarin slice into my mouth. He promised that once I was discharged, he would rent out an entire plum blossom garden just for me to walk around.

He made endless promises, but he completely ignored my request.

Julian had never painted me.

He always claimed he had no inspiration or no time. Yet, in his free time, he would lock himself in the attic and stare at his paintings for hours.

His only art sketchbook with a human figure featured a girl in a white and green dress.

Those weren't even his usual colors. But they perfectly matched what Chloe was wearing on the day I was kidnapped.

My breathing suddenly grew shallow.

I coughed violently, clawing at the sheets. The pain in my legs flared up, feeling as if they were being ripped apart all over again.

Terrified, Julian slammed the call button. After the doctor assured him it was nothing serious, Julian got so angry that he checked me out of the hospital that very day.

"You're in so much pain, yet that idiot doctor kept saying you're fine! If you're fine, why did your stitches tear? They're just a bunch of useless quacks!"

He brought me to the hotel penthouse, promising that a specialist would come check on me soon. Then, he left and never came back.

Thirsty and exhausted, I dragged my broken leg across the floor to grab my phone, only for the door to suddenly fly open. It was Chloe.

Her belly was slightly showing. She looked surprised to see me.

"Julian actually brought you here?"

"Well, makes sense. Since your leg is broken, he had to find a place close to the hospital to take care of you."

Chloe walked straight into the bedroom. She grabbed the electric kettle, filled it up, and calmly tossed a tea bag into a cup.

"Justin is such a straight-laced guy. Ever since I got pregnant, he hasn't wanted to touch me."

"Luckily, Julian's wife is you. He can barely keep his hands to himself. Every time I go to the hospital for my prenatal checkups, he meets me here to relieve his tension. Right on this bed you're lying on."

Chloe sat on my pillow with a smug smile, sliding the teacup toward me like she was the actual mistress of the house.

I collapsed on the floor, unable to move. My hospital gown looked pathetic compared to her expensive silk robe.

"Is that so?"

I propped myself up against the nightstand and sneered.

"But he gave this penthouse to me. Looks like Julian is getting tired of raising another man's kid."

A shadow crossed Chloe's face. She narrowed her eyes, dramatically holding her stomach and whining, "This six-month-old baby is so active. It's kicking me so hard. Clara, did it hurt this bad when you were pregnant?"

"Oh, I forgot."

She smirked and leaned in.

"Your baby died before the three-month mark. Julian told me he personally slipped the abortion drug into your food."

"A mother with a dirty womb will only give birth to a monster anyway. You can't blame him for being a ruthless father, right?"

In an instant, the pain in my leg vanished.

My baby... Julian was the one who killed my baby?

Looking at the cruel amusement in Chloe's eyes, I suddenly remembered. Before I drank that cup of herbal tea to "prevent miscarriage," I had told Julian about my father's top-secret raid operation.

It wasn't just because he hated the baby.

Julian killed my child to distract my father, ensuring Chloe and her mother could get away safely.

The agonizing memory of miscarrying alone in the dark rushed back.

With a primal scream, I lunged at Chloe, pinning her down. I wanted to strangle her to death on that filthy bed.

"Clara, what the hell are you doing?!"

I squeezed her neck with all my remaining strength.

But a second before I could finish it, Julian burst in and slammed me onto the floor.

My unhealed wounds tore open instantly. Crimson blood soaked through my pants.

But Julian didn't even look at me. He scooped Chloe up, preparing to rush her to the hospital.

"Julian, I'm fine. Go check on Clara. Her leg—"

"Shut up!"

Chloe was barely startled, but Julian acted as if he was about to lose her forever, squeezing her tightly against his chest.

"Do you have any idea how fragile pregnant women are? Why can't you take care of yourself?"

"I already lost you once, Chloe. I can't lose you again."

Julian's voice faded down the hall. In the massive penthouse, I was left alone, writhing in pain on the floor.

So he knew how anxious and terrified pregnant women could be.

Then why didn't he care when I was losing my baby?

I ripped the platinum bracelet off my wrist—the one meant to keep me "safe."

I dragged myself to the nightstand, dug through Chloe's purse, and pulled out her unlocked phone.

"I met the guy Lee mentioned. He wants a four-year-old child. Boy or girl doesn't matter, but the birthday must be May 8th."

"Don't ask why. If we pull this off, we get fifty million."

"Clara said the police department assumes you're dead. It's safe here. You can come back."

After hitting send, I wiped all trace of the message and dialed my father's old colleague.