Flora opened her eyes weakly; her lower abdomen felt hollow and ice-cold.

A nurse was recording something nearby. Remembering something, she sat up abruptly, only for a sharp, agonizing cramp to tear through her stomach.

She let out a pained groan, cold sweat beading on her forehead, and gripped the nurse’s hem tightly:

"My baby..."

The nurse hurriedly steadied her, her eyes filled with pity:

"I’m sorry, Ms. Jiang. You... you were brought in too late. By the time you arrived, the baby couldn't be saved."

Flora froze. Her fingers loosened, losing all strength, and tears poured down her cheeks.

Her baby...

The child she had once filled with hope, the child she had meant to cherish and raise well.

It was gone.

It hadn't even had a chance to be born; it hadn't even stayed in her womb for four full months.

She bowed her head, her shoulders shaking violently, and she broke into sudden, agonizing sobs.

The ward door was pushed open, and Summer walked in with a bright smile, sitting down as if she were a regular visitor.

"What a miserable scene. A mother-to-be who just became a mom, lost her child, and is crying all alone in the hospital."

Flora snapped her head up, her face deathly pale, her eyes burning with furious hatred.

"Don't look at me with those eyes, Flora."

Summer rested her chin on her hand:

"The one who locked you in the cold storage was Julian, not me."

"It’s a pity he doesn't even know you were carrying his own flesh and blood, and now it’s gone, just like that, without a sound."

"Though," her smile turned icy, "even if he did know, he wouldn't believe it was his child, would he?"

Flora stared at her intently, the suspicions in her mind gradually clearing:

"The people who drugged and took me away that day, the photos that appeared at the charity auction—you arranged them, didn't you?"

Once the "indecent photo scandal" broke, no one would believe that nothing had happened between her and those men, and no one would believe the child was Julian's.

Only the person who set the trap would know her innocence best.

"Why?" she asked, clutching the quilt tightly.

"I was already planning to make room for you; I was already preparing for the divorce!"

Summer looked at her coldly, her eyes filled with malice.

"No reason, just consider it payback for the day you smashed that cake in my face."

"Actually, Flora, your very existence—you, yourself—makes me want to destroy it. You wouldn't understand."

Her hatred was so immense that it left Flora baffled.

"Leave, Flora." Summer stood up. "In this life, you’ll always be a slut in Julian’s heart. You can't turn back now."

"And you won't forgive him either, will you?" She gave a bright, sharp smile and turned to leave.

The ward returned to a deathly silence.

Flora closed her eyes, her body trembling in silence, suppressing her fury with all her might.

This woman was truly cunning to a terrifying degree.

"Of course I won't forgive," she whispered. "And I won't let you off, either."

Flora reached out from under the quilt and pressed stop on her phone’s recording.

Three days later, Flora was discharged early and headed straight for the Civil Affairs Bureau.

She accepted the dark red divorce certificate, the heavy weight in her heart finally lifting.

Over the years, she hadn't left the Yan family empty-handed; handling assets had been a routine part of her life.

Sixty percent of the Yan family's assets had already been quietly liquidated and moved into an overseas family trust.

Holding her passport, she arrived at the airport, sitting in the waiting room for her boarding call.

Flora took out her phone and scrolled through it, opening a file and finding the recording from three days ago.

Her finger paused for a moment before she clicked send, with Julian as the recipient.

Afterward, she turned her phone off completely.

Sunlight poured through the massive floor-to-ceiling glass as she walked resolutely into the boarding bridge.

The plane spread its massive gray wings and soared into the sky.

Meanwhile, in the Yan Corporation's top-floor conference room, Julian’s phone buzzed.

He frowned, picked it up, and opened the message—his gaze froze.

A recording file lay quietly in the text, sent by Flora.

The manager, who was in the middle of presenting an important proposal, paused, asking cautiously: "Mr. Yan, should we pause?"

Julian collected himself and put the phone down: "No, continue."

After the meeting, he went straight into project cooperation talks and proposal reviews.

By the time everything concluded, it was eleven at night.

He picked up his phone again; the screen was still on the recording sent by Flora at noon.

He played it, and the dialogue between Summer and Flora echoed out.

"What a pity, he doesn't even know you were carrying his own flesh and blood, and now it’s gone, just like that, without a sound."

"The people who drugged and took me away that day, the photos at the charity auction—did you arrange them? Why! I was already planning to make room for you; I was already prepared to divorce!"

"No reason, just consider it payback for the day you smashed that cake in my face."

10

Julian frowned as he finished listening to the dialogue.

"What nonsense is this?"

He tossed the phone aside carelessly, convinced that Flora was just pulling another stunt.

This woman was unscrupulous and deep-minded when it came to winning his favor.

In this age of advanced technology, forging a recording was easy; it proved nothing about Summer.

But the fact that Flora had committed a shameful act that disgraced the Yan family—and had done so in such a humiliating, public way—was undeniable.

He went back to reviewing the latest project plan, but for some reason, he couldn't focus; a sense of inexplicable unease gnawed at him.

Julian rubbed his temples irritably, stood up to stretch, walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, and dialed the housekeeper.

"How is Flora?"

The housekeeper hesitated for a moment before answering quickly:

"Sir, I had matters in my hometown and had already asked for leave. I haven't been at the villa for the past few days. However, the day Madam fainted in the cold storage, she was already taken to the hospital."

Julian froze, his voice involuntarily hardening:

"When did this happen? Why wasn't I told?"

The housekeeper stammered:

"Sir, you were the one who said you never wanted to see Madam again, so no one dared to disturb you with her affairs..."

Julian stiffened, at a loss for words.

He closed his eyes and said in a low voice: "Which hospital is she at?"

...

Hongli Hospital.

When Julian followed the address provided by the housekeeper, the bed was already empty, and the nurse was tidying the sheets.

He pondered before speaking: "Excuse me, was there a patient named Flora here?"

The nurse looked up at him: "Flora? She was discharged this morning. Who are you to her?"

Julian paused: "Her husband."

The nurse sized him up, her eyes filled with reproach:

"You’re her husband? Do you even know your wife had a miscarriage? It’s been four days, and not a single family member came to keep her company."

Julian froze, blurting out:

"She really was pregnant?"

The nurse looked at him with even more strange curiosity: "Your wife was pregnant, and you didn't even know? What kind of husband are you?"

"Honestly, nowadays, just anyone can get a wife."

The nurse looked at him with disdain and left, carrying the bedding.

Julian stood there for a long time, his eyes cast downward, hiding the unreadable emotions in his gaze.

He thought of that recording from Summer.

The recording mentioned Flora being pregnant and said the child was his own flesh and blood... could it be... all true?

Julian’s breathing suddenly quickened.

He took out his phone and dialed his assistant’s number:

"Assistant Li, go check one thing: does the person in the auction photos have any connection to Summer!"

"Yes, Mr. Yan."

After hanging up, he found the nurse from before:

"Excuse me, Miss Nurse, is there any way to perform a paternity test between me and that... fetus?"

The nurse gave him a look of complex shock, as if witnessing a massive scandal, and nodded:

"It’s possible."

...

After a long, arduous wait, the test results were placed in Julian’s hands.

He gripped the report, looking at the 99.99% paternity probability, his fingers trembling slightly.

This child really was his and Flora’s child.

His first child.

And it was gone, just like that, in such an unclear way.

If not for that recording, if not for his trip to the hospital, he wouldn't even have known this child had existed.

No, he should have known.

Flora had been on the floor, grabbing his pant leg and begging him, crying so pitifully.

He hadn't believed her.

Julian closed his eyes; that desperate, tear-stained face seemed to be right before him.