After the in vitro fertilization finally succeeded,

I returned home, hoping to surprise my husband, Nathan Osborne.

But the code to the gate of the villa had been changed.

Suddenly, the door swung open.

A woman draped in my pajamas, her brows arched in disdain.

"Go away, you beggar! This is the Osborne's place.

No one in New York dares to mess with an Osborne!"

Her arrogance was infuriating, but I smiled.

"Call Nathan out here! Does he even want the child I'm carrying?"

A mastiff, emboldened by her presence, barked at me through the crack in the door.

Stephanie Hilton rolled her eyes.

"And who are you supposed to be, lady? You think you can just see Mr. Osborne whenever you want?"

She eyed me up and down.

"Does the building management just let anyone in? Wearing those cheap clothes, you dare walk into this neighborhood!"

My skin is sensitive; ordinary fabrics leave me with rashes. Nathan had Italian-made clothes custom-tailored for me, just for that reason.

I never imagined there'd come a day when someone would look down on me for not wearing designer brands.

I almost laughed out of sheer frustration. After all these years, this was the first time I'd been blocked from seeing Nathan.

I reached for my phone, ready to call him and demand answers.

But when I lifted my hand, I realized with a jolt that my phone had died somewhere along the way.

So I extended my hand to Stephanie, my voice cold.

"Give me your phone. If you mess things up for him, you know what'll happen."

My glare startled her, and she hesitated just long enough for me to take the phone.

I dialed the number I knew by heart, ready to confront him, but Nathan's gentle, low chuckle interrupted me.

"Haven't replied to your messages in two minutes and already calling? Missing me that much?

"I'm in a meeting. I'll come home as soon as it's over."

My voice caught in my throat while my hand was still gripping the phone.

With that intimate tone, if I hadn't been holding Stephanie's phone, I would've thought he was talking to me.

The next moment, Stephanie snatched the phone back, her voice syrupy sweet.

"Hurry home, okay? I want to eat your cooking tonight!"

She made sure to put the call on speaker.

Listening to their flirtatious banter, I forced myself to swallow my anger.

"Nathan, come home right now!"

Nathan paused, a hint of confusion in his voice.

"Stephy, is someone else there with you?"

Stephanie shot me a glare.

"Just some crazy woman. I'll get rid of her in a minute."

Nathan's tone was indifferent.

"Okay. Don't make a scene. The company's bidding right now—bad publicity would be a problem."

His coldness hit me like a bucket of ice water.

Just last month, Nathan had flown overseas just to see me, and now he didn't even recognize my voice.

I couldn't hold back anymore—I raised my voice.

"Nathan, do you not want me anymore? Are you giving up on our child too?"

Silence fell. Nathan's voice came through, chilling and sharp.

"Pretty gutsy, trying to scam me now!"

His tone was frigid.

"That child could never be mine. Stephy, just deal with her."

He still didn't recognize me.

I let out a bitter laugh.

"Well then, there's no reason to keep the child I'm carrying."

Nathan sounded utterly indifferent.

"An illegitimate child from who knows where. Better off gone."

My nails dug into my palm. I never imagined Nathan would call his own child an illegitimate child.

He probably didn't realize that the baby inside me could be the only blood relative he'd ever have.

Nathan suffers from low sperm count; in five years of marriage, we'd never been able to have a child.

The Osborne family had passed down the name for nine generations, one son at a time. When they found out about Nathan's condition, panic swept through the house.

After endless pleading from his family, I went overseas to try IVF. It took three years of grueling effort before I finally got pregnant.

I'd wanted to surprise him when I came home—never thought he'd have a bigger surprise waiting for me.

I was about to call a lawyer to draft the divorce papers when Stephanie abruptly hung up the phone with a sharp smack.

Her eyes blazed with fury as she slapped me hard across the face.

"Knew you were just a beggar! Trying to pin your bastard on Mr. Osborne!"

No one had ever hit me before—not once in my life.

I trembled with rage, then pressed the emergency alarm button next to the villa.

Stephanie didn't even try to stop me; she just sneered coldly.

"You little bitch, do you even know what kind of power the Osborne family has in New York?

"Forget a slap—if I killed you right now, nobody would dare make a fuss."

I stared back at her, icy and unyielding.

The Osborne family might be rich, but my family isn't exactly destitute.

Marrying Nathan was already a step down for me.

His company's projects—how many of them haven't relied on my family's support?

Even the property manager here, Jackson Acosta, only got his job because I recommended him for his excellent service.

Less than three minutes later, security arrived with the building staff.

I glanced around, frowning when I didn't see the familiar face of Jackson.

Just as I was about to speak, Stephanie turned to the head security guard, her voice syrupy sweet.

"Ricky, it's this trashy woman! She's dragging around some bastard, insisting it's Mr. Osborne's child. I can't get her to leave!"

Watching Stephanie's disgusting performance, I shot back.

"Call Mr. Acosta. Let him come and see for himself whether I'm Mrs. Osborne or not."

The man hesitated.

"Mr. Acosta's out of town. You know him?"

Stephanie spat viciously.

"So that's how you got in—you must've slept with the property manager! That kid you're carrying must be his, right?"

Someone in the crowd muttered, "Doesn't Mr. Acosta have a wife?"

Stephanie snorted, her voice dripping with scorn. "So you're a homewrecker, huh? Slept around until you wore yourself out, now you want Mr. Osborne to clean up your mess!"

I clenched my teeth, desperate to explain.

"I'm not a mistress! I, Keira Trescott, was the one he begged on his knees to marry!"

But no one listened. The crowd jeered.

"She's pretty enough, but she chose to be the homewrecker!"

"She even dared to cross Ms. Hilton. Isn't that just asking for trouble? Everyone knows Mr. Osborne dotes on Ms. Hilton."

"He even let her move in—bet they're about to get engaged. This mistress probably found out and came here just to stir things up!"

Hearing that, Stephanie's face darkened. She grabbed my hair and slapped me again and again.

"You bitch, I knew you were up to no good!"

Her sharp nails sliced open my cheek. Warm blood was trickling into my eyes, turning my vision crimson.

Still unsatisfied, Stephanie unleashed the mastiffs, unclipping their leashes.

"You haven't eaten yet today, right? Go ahead, make her your dinner!"

Freed from restraint, the drooling mastiffs lunged at me without hesitation.

A pair of blood-stained jaws snapped open right in front of me. I instinctively threw up my arms to shield myself, but razor-sharp teeth tore straight through my flesh.

Pain exploded through my body, mingling with a terror so intense it made my lower abdomen ache and throb.

IVF had never been easy, and my pregnancy symptoms were far more severe than most. The doctors had warned me that if I didn't take care of myself, the odds of keeping this baby were slim.

Now, in just these few moments, I could feel blood pooling beneath me.

Someone in the crowd seemed uneasy, afraid things had gone too far.

"Don't get someone killed. Just throw her out."

Stephanie snorted, dismissing the concern, and someone quickly chimed in to curry favor.

"Ms. Hilton is Mr. Osborne's number one. Last time someone tried to outbid her at an auction for a piece of jewelry, they were on their knees apologizing to her the very next day!"

"Even if something does happen, with Mr. Osborne around, what's there to be afraid of?"

Ricky stepped forward, grabbing me roughly and dragging me toward the gate, cursing under his breath.

"Stephanie's my cousin, and Mr. Osborne is practically family! Trash like you, who wrecks other people's homes, deserves everything coming to you!"

My scalp burned as Stephanie yanked my hair, her eyes flashing with jealousy as she stared at my face.

"His own wife couldn't beat me, and now you, the homewrecker, think you've got a shot?"

Her words stunned me.

"You know he's married?"

Stephanie sneered.

"Some washed-up old hag—Nathan's been sick of her for ages! Why else would he ship her off overseas?"

Nathan hadn't even told her that I'd gone abroad for IVF, to have his child.

I didn't have time to explain. Stephanie's expression twisted with malice.

"You think you can climb the ladder with a baby? Let me tell you, you're not that lucky!"

She kicked me hard in the stomach. Agony shot through me, and I collapsed to my knees.

I could feel the life inside me growing weaker by the second. Panic seized me.

"The child I'm carrying really is Nathan's! Please, take me to the hospital! If I lose this baby, Nathan won't let you get away with it!"

The sight of blood on the ground sent a ripple of unease through the crowd. Ricky turned and barked.

"This is the Osbornes' family business! If any of you call the cops, you'll regret it!"

He pinned me to the ground, forcing me to lift my head as he sucked up to Stephanie.

"Stephanie, hit her however you want. Just don't get yourself worked up."

Stephanie's slaps rained down until my face went numb and swollen beyond recognition.

She looked satisfied, glaring at the crowd as if issuing a warning.

"This is what happens to homewreckers! If I catch anyone else trying to seduce Mr. Osborne, you'll end up worse than her!"

Then she barked orders at Ricky.

"Go on, strip her and toss her out into the street! If she's shameless enough to be a homewrecker, she doesn't deserve clothes!"

I clung desperately to my collar, using every ounce of strength left to fight back.

"Let me go! I'm not a mistress!"

As they dragged me toward the gate, I shouted a phone number to the crowd, hoping someone would help.

"Please, call this number! Tell them what's happening here!"

Someone scoffed.

"Trying to call for backup?"

The crowd burst into laughter.

"Backup? Who would dare show up? There's no one bigger than the Osborne family in New York!"

Stephanie dug her nails into my skin, her voice dripping with contempt.

"Still putting on a show, huh? Dressed in rags like that, who do you think you can call?"

Ignoring her, I pleaded with the crowd.

"Please, just call the number!"

Before I could finish, Stephanie slapped me again and again.

My head spun, and I spat out a tooth, blood oozing from my mouth.

"Still pretending, huh?

"Strip her now!"

Ricky and a few others leered at me, their faces twisted with crude anticipation as they grabbed at my clothes, trying to rip them off.

Just as my dress was about to be torn open, a sleek Maybach rolled to a stop at the entrance of the complex.

A cool, aristocratic voice rang out, tinged with exasperation.

"Didn't I tell you not to make a scene?"

Nathan stood with one hand on the car door, his brow faintly furrowed. The moment he appeared, the crowd fell silent, not daring to breathe too loudly.

Stephanie, playing the perfect damsel, clung to his sleeve and pouted.

"Nathan, this woman is disgusting. She's ruining your reputation in front of everyone! I only did this for you!"

Nathan's expression softened. He reached out and affectionately patted her head.

"You always lose your temper. You think I'll clean up after you no matter what, huh?"

His indulgence hit me like a slap.

Once, I was the one everyone whispered about—spoiled, headstrong, untouchable.

Nathan used to shield me from everything, always stepping in to fix my messes.

He once declared in front of everyone, "If anyone bullies you, hit them back. I dare anyone to lay a finger on you!"

All of New York knew—cross Nathan Osborne and you might get away with it, but mess with the Trescott heiress and your days were numbered.

Now, the tenderness and devotion that once belonged to me alone, Nathan lavished freely on another woman.

My heart turned to ash; the last shred of hope I had for Nathan was gone.

Nathan glanced at me, frowning slightly.

"This is the crazy woman you mentioned?"

My face was swollen and nearly unrecognizable from the beating, my clothes filthy and torn. He didn't recognize me at first.

Noticing Nathan's lingering gaze, Stephanie quickly pulled his attention back to herself.

"It's her! I was just about to livestream so everyone could see what happens to a mistress!"

Nathan looked away, his tone indifferent.

"Let someone else handle it. No need to dirty your hands."

Stephanie beamed, clinging to him.

"She's got some nerve, even claiming to be Mrs. Osborne!"

Nathan's expression turned cold.

"Kiki is my wife. Anyone who tarnishes her name is asking for trouble."

Seeing Nathan's genuine anger, Stephanie's face twisted with jealousy and frustration. She hurried to change the subject.

"I was just talking. Let's go home. Didn't you promise to cook for me?"

She shot a look at the men, and they surged forward, yanking at my clothes again.

I fought back desperately, my voice hoarse as I screamed for help.

Nathan wrapped his arm around Stephanie's waist, walking past me without so much as a glance.

I clutched my slightly rounded belly, tears of regret streaming down my face.

Baby, I'm so sorry. I chose a father who doesn't deserve you.

Maybe not coming into this world is your blessing...

Just as my dress was ripped apart with a loud tear, a long convoy of cars pulled up outside the gate, their imposing presence sending a ripple of shock through the crowd.

The crowd gasped.

"Who is that? Their entrance is even grander than the Osborne family!"

"There's only one Rolls-Royce in this color in the country! Money alone can't buy that!"

Nathan stopped in his tracks.

His face changed as he saw the person stepping out of the car. He let go of Stephanie and hurried forward.

"What are you doing here—"

Smack!

A sharp slap landed across Nathan's face, leaving a clear red mark. The crowd fell utterly silent.