Maisie Minton was famous in New York for her luck with pregnancy.

But after marrying Benedict Danner, the ninth-generation sole heir of New York's Danner family, she suffered eight miscarriages in three years. It was only on the ninth attempt that she finally succeeded in giving him a son.

When she woke up after nearly dying in childbirth, Benedict held her tightly, his voice filled with pain as he promised never to let her endure such suffering again.

But Maisie wanted to complete the perfect family, to break the Danner family's generations-old curse of having only one heir each time. So she quietly went to the hospital for a check-up on her own.

The doctor studied her scans for a long moment before finally speaking, his brow furrowed. "I'm sorry, Ms. Minton, but I'm afraid you won't be able to conceive again."

Maisie's body went rigid, her smile tightening. "Doctor, what are you talking about? I'm known for being fertile—how could that be possible...?"

The doctor sighed, pointing at the computer screen. "Ms. Minton, your medical records show that your uterus was surgically removed three years ago. Look, your husband Benedict signed the consent form himself.

"You'll never be able to have children again."

Maisie felt her blood run cold, her entire body struck as if by lightning.

Benedict's promise to spare her any more suffering—was that what he meant by removing her uterus?

Impossible!

In a daze, Maisie left the hospital and hailed a cab to Benedict's office.

She needed answers.

But when she arrived, she saw Benedict hurriedly getting into a car and driving away.

Not wanting to lose him, Maisie told the driver to follow his car.

Twenty minutes later, they stopped outside a villa.

Just as Maisie was about to get out, she saw a little girl with pigtails stumbling toward Benedict.

"Daddy."

A beautiful woman followed behind.

Benedict's usually icy face melted into a warm smile the moment he saw the girl. He bent down naturally, scooping her into his arms and planting a kiss on her chubby cheek.

The woman took his briefcase and coat with practiced ease, as if she'd done it a hundred times before.

Maisie's mind went blank, as if something inside her had suddenly crashed.

That woman—she was none other than Shannon Tinsley, the Danner family's current housekeeper.

And that child, calling him "Daddy."

Maisie's eyes filled with tears as she clamped a hand over her mouth in the back of the cab.

***

The villa's door was ajar, and Maisie could clearly hear the voices inside.

"Daddy, you haven't been here in so long. I missed you so much."

The little girl's voice rang out, clear and sweet.

"Phoebe!" Shannon's voice was a bit cold. "Daddy's very busy with work!"

Phoebe, the girl, pouted in disappointment.

"It's alright, Shannon. Phoebe's still young—it's normal for her to want her father around. I should have thought of that. From now on, I'll visit you both more often."

Benedict gently pinched Phoebe Tinsley's cheek, unable to hide his affection as he smiled.

"But Daddy, why can't you live with us?" Phoebe asked, her innocent words dropping like a stone into a still lake.

Benedict's expression darkened instantly.

Shannon's face shifted. She quickly covered the child's mouth, hurriedly explaining, "Benedict, she's just a child—she doesn't know what she's saying..."

With a look from Benedict, someone immediately stepped forward and took the child away.

He then turned to Shannon, his voice cold. "I told you from the beginning, you wanted a child, so I gave you one to repay the debt I owe you for saving my life.

"But my wife will always be Maisie. I love her. As for you, I feel only gratitude and familial affection. I hope you remember that.

"Even if I caused Maisie to miscarry eight times, it was only because the fortune teller said nine is the key—only after the ninth could her uterus be successfully transplanted into your body, allowing you to conceive.

"It was all to repay a debt. It had nothing to do with love."

Benedict's voice was cold and mechanical, like a machine with no warmth.

Standing just beyond the door, Maisie heard everything. In that instant, she felt as if she'd fallen into an icy abyss.

Her heart felt like it had exploded, the pain so intense it seemed to push aside every organ in her body.

All those eight miscarriages she thought were accidents had been meticulously orchestrated by him!

She remembered the car crash, the near-drowning, the kidnapping.

"Benedict! How ruthless you are!" she thought bitterly.

Shannon pressed her lips together, nodding reluctantly, her eyes filled with sorrow. "I know. The only person you've ever truly loved is Maisie."

Then, suddenly, she leaned into Benedict, her soft chest pressing against his.

"But Benedict, Maisie can't have children anymore. Sir Danner is gravely ill in the hospital, and his dying wish is to break the Danner family's ten-generation curse of having only one heir. Now that I'm fertile, and you don't want Maisie to suffer any longer..."

The scent of lavender drifted with her words, sliding from his ear straight to his heart and leaving a tingling sensation behind.

Benedict's hand, raised to push her away, froze in midair.

Minutes passed in silence. Shannon tried every trick she knew, but he remained unmoved, and disappointment filled her heart.

But in the next instant, he swept her up into his arms.

Watching their entwined bodies fade from view, Maisie stumbled away in panic.

Once inside the cab, the tears she'd been holding back surged forth like a tidal wave. She bit down hard on her right arm, trying to muffle her sobs, but a few broken whimpers escaped anyway.

Memories and tears spilled out together.

Maisie couldn't forget how Benedict had raced through a thunderstorm against her obsessed pursuer, risking his life and breaking three ribs just to reach the finish line first; how he'd parachuted from the top of New York City's tallest skyscraper, landing in front of her to propose beneath a sky full of stars and a bright moon; how he'd looked when he learned she was pregnant for the first time, wishing he could take all her suffering upon himself...

He had loved her so much!

Yet he'd also killed their children, one after another, all for another woman.

Maisie sobbed uncontrollably in the back of the cab.

She didn't know how long she had been crying. The meter had climbed to a hundred dollars before she finally managed to stop, her body trembling as she forced herself to calm down.

She had to leave Benedict and take her child with her!

With that thought, Maisie gave her home address to the driver and told him to turn around.

When she got home, her eyes were swollen, but her cheeks were dry, the tears wiped away.

She was searching for her son, Julian Danner, when something struck her hard on the back of the head.

Maisie staggered, falling straight into the villa's pool.

Blood from the wound on her head spread through the water, staining it red.

She stared at her son in shock, disbelief in her eyes.

Julian stood there holding a slingshot—the very stone that hit her was fired by his own hand!

"It's all your fault! You made Shannie and Phoebe sad! You're a bad woman! I don't want you as my mommy!

"You should just die. Then Shannie could be my mommy, and I could see Phoebe every day!"

Cold pool water flooded Maisie's ears and nose, but the chill was nothing compared to the pain of Julian's words.

Her vision blurred, her body sinking deeper into the water.

"Daddy, you're back?"

Benedict patted Julian's head, his voice gentle. "Yeah. Did Mommy come home?"

"Nope." Julian's innocent voice was laced with venom. "I didn't see her."

Benedict started to pull out his phone to call, but Julian grabbed his hand. "Daddy, can you take me to see Phoebe? I really miss her and Shannie."

He paused, then slipped his phone back into his pocket, smiling. "Alright."

Maisie's heart felt submerged, suffocating.

This was the child she'd risked everything to bring into the world!

He wanted to kill her himself.

And her husband had already betrayed her, fathering another child with another woman.

As consciousness faded, Maisie's last ties to this world unraveled completely.

If this was her fate, then she would let go of everyone.

When Maisie woke again, she was in a hospital room.

The moment she opened her eyes, she saw Benedict sitting beside her, looking completely exhausted.

As soon as he noticed she was awake, the anxiety and tension in his eyes eased a little. He gripped her right hand tightly, his voice overflowing with concern. "Thank God, Maisie! You're finally awake!"

She tried to speak, but her throat felt as if it had been soaked in seawater all night—no sound came out.

Benedict noticed immediately and rushed to explain, "Maisie, you can't talk right now. The doctor said you were in the pool too long and swallowed a lot of water with disinfectant, which affected your vocal cords.

"But don't worry, I've already brought in the best specialists in the country to treat you. You're going to be okay."

His worried expression looked unmistakably genuine.

Maisie nodded.

Benedict looked at her pale lips and colorless face, guilt written all over his face. "It's all my fault—I didn't take good care of you!"

He said it, then slapped himself hard across the face, startling her.

"That's why, Maisie, I think it's best if Shannon comes back to take care of you. She's practically family, and I'll feel more at ease with her looking after you."

Maisie stared into his eyes, a flicker of mockery passing through hers.

It was only after marrying him that she learned the Danner family had a housekeeper named Shannon, who had loved Benedict for 18 years.

But back then, Maisie trusted Benedict completely, never seeing Shannon as a threat.

Until three years ago, when he suddenly let Shannon go, claiming he didn't want Maisie to feel uncomfortable knowing about her.

Maisie had been surprised, but didn't think much of it.

She never questioned why he was so eager to fire Shannon when she herself had never raised the issue.

Now she understood—Shannon was pregnant with his child.

Without waiting for Maisie's response, Benedict took her silence as agreement and brought Shannon to the hospital that afternoon.

"Shannon, starting today, you'll stay by Maisie's side and take care of her."

His gaze was unreadable as he looked at the woman, now meek and obedient. "Know your place."

"Yes, Mr. Danner," Shannon replied sweetly.

Maisie looked at her. Even dressed in a plain work uniform, Shannon wore a pricey Patek Philippe watch and a Cartier diamond bracelet—her privileged lifestyle was impossible to hide.

Maisie pressed her lips together, a wave of sorrow rising inside her.

As soon as Benedict left, Shannon dropped the act.

Her brows arched with arrogance, her red lips curling into a provocative smile, her cautious demeanor replaced by brazen confidence.

"Mrs. Danner, is there anything you need me to do?"

Maisie turned away indifferently, gazing out the window.

Shannon chuckled, poured herself a cup of hot water, and settled comfortably by the bed. "Honestly, when Mr. Danner called me, you have no idea how thrilled I was! But then he told me to come take care of you!"

Her tone was laced with disdain. "I was furious—didn't even want to come. But then I thought—

"Maybe this is the perfect chance for you to finally learn the truth..."

At those words, Maisie's breath caught, her eyes meeting Shannon's triumphant gaze.

Shannon unlocked her phone and played a video.

On the screen, two pale bodies were tangled together, their moans and gasps echoing through the sterile hospital room, adding a feverish heat to the cold air.

It was unmistakably Shannon and Benedict.

A wave of nausea surged through Maisie's stomach, shooting up her throat.

"Ugh—"

She leaned over the side of the bed and vomited.

Shannon tilted her head and smirked. "Mrs. Danner, can't handle it already? What if I told you that Mr. Danner and I have a three-year-old daughter—and soon, we'll have a second child? Would you finally lose your mind?"

Her laughter was triumphant and twisted.

Maisie felt as if she might throw up everything she'd ever eaten, stomach acid burning her esophagus with a pain so sharp it brought tears to her eyes.

Instinctively, she grabbed the water glass from her bedside and hurled it at Shannon.

"Ah—!"

A piercing scream split the air.

Boiling water splashed over Shannon, making her cry out in pain, while the glass struck her squarely on the forehead.

Blood streamed down her face, the sight nearly grotesque.

Benedict, who had been in the specialists' office discussing Maisie's condition, rushed in at the sound, his pupils contracting at the scene before him.

He dashed to Maisie's side, helped her lie back down, then shot an impatient glance at Shannon. When he saw the wound on her forehead, his expression shifted slightly. "What happened here?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Danner. I didn't take good enough care of Mrs. Danner! Maybe the water was too hot—she didn't like it. I'll go get her a cup of warm water right away!"

Crying, Shannon ran out of the room.

Benedict's gaze lingered on her retreating figure. After a few seconds' hesitation, he turned back to Maisie, gently patting her hand. "Maisie, are you alright? Shannon was careless. I'll go have a word with her."

He turned so quickly that Maisie didn't have time to grab his sleeve.

Watching his hurried departure, she bit down on her lower lip and followed him.

At the end of the hospital corridor—

Shannon was buried in Benedict's arms, sobbing as she spoke.

He stroked her hair, his eyes filled with tenderness. "Alright, I know you've been wronged. But Maisie is my life. Take good care of her for me, and after she's discharged, I'll take you and the kids abroad for a vacation..."

Behind a corner pillar, Maisie stood frozen like a statue, blood dripping from her fingertips onto the gleaming tiled floor.

Her heart felt shredded, pain so overwhelming it was numb.

Benedict kept saying he loved her, but he hadn't even noticed the glass had cut her palm.

How ridiculous.

When Benedict returned to the room, Maisie was already lying in bed.

"Maisie, don't be angry. I've already scolded Shannon. She'll take good care of you from now on."

She answered by pulling a blank sheet of paper from the drawer, pointing to the empty space, and croaking out in a raspy voice, "Sign, here."

Benedict stared for a moment, puzzled, about to ask her something.

But a scream rang out from outside the door. His face changed instantly, and he quickly scribbled his signature on the paper.

Then he turned and left. "Maisie, I'll go see what happened."

Maisie's eyes were lifeless as she wrote two bold words at the top of the page.

Divorce Agreement.