Chapter 4

Clutching the receipt, I stormed into Julian’s home office.

"What is this?"

I slammed the paper onto his desk.

He was reviewing some reports, but when he saw the receipt, he remained surprisingly calm.

"Fiona, your health hasn't been great lately, right? I asked a friend to book a top specialist for you. I wanted to surprise you."

"Tiffany happened to feel unwell that day too, so I just gave her a ride and got her a basic checkup first."

"I used your name for her registration because I didn't want you to worry and get the wrong idea."

The explanation sounded absolutely seamless.

"A surprise?" My voice was trembling.

"Julian, do you honestly think I am brain-dead?"

"An early pregnancy confirmation test. Is that your surprise for me?"

The air in the office instantly turned freezing cold.

Julian’s face darkened, his gentle facade completely vanishing.

He stood up and walked toward me, step by step.

"Fiona, what are you trying to say? Are you accusing me of cheating?" He raised his voice, sounding deeply offended.

"Is that who I am to you? A man who would just betray you like that?"

"We've been married for three years. How I’ve treated you... do you have no heart?"

With every sentence, he took another step closer.

The sheer pressure of his imposing figure forced me backward until my spine hit the cold wall.

"Then what about Tiffany? Where did you transfer her?" I gritted my teeth and asked.

"I told you, another department! Why can't you just trust me!" he roared.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed.

He glanced at the screen and immediately silenced it.

"Fiona, can you please be rational? Are you really going to destroy our marriage over some petty suspicion about an outsider?"

Even as he tried to soothe me with his words, his fingers were rapidly typing a text.

I saw it clearly on his screen:

"Don't worry, I'm handling her."

My heart plummeted into a dark, bottomless abyss.

There was nothing left to deny.

The person on the other end of that phone was Tiffany.

While his mouth was promising me the world, his fingers were busy comforting his pregnant mistress.

I suddenly felt a wave of mocking laughter bubble up in my throat.

"Julian, let’s get a divorce."

I said those words with absolute, chilling calm.

He froze. "What did you say?"

"I said, I want a divorce."

I looked him dead in the eye. "I can't live like this anymore. Go spend the rest of your life with your little assistant."

His face turned a terrible shade of gray.

"Fiona! Have you lost your mind?!"

He grabbed my wrist with terrifying force.

"Over this? Over some stupid software glitch in a car? You want to throw away our marriage?!"

Suddenly, a sharp, agonizing pain ripped through my lower abdomen.

I let out a weak groan, and cold sweat instantly drenched my forehead.