The host asked us to call our partners.

"Me first!"

Barbara Taylor snatched the chance before I could, dialing her boyfriend with a sugary smile.

"Sweetie, aren't you working right now? Did you call 'cause you miss me?"

Logan Young, who was dubbed the "Untouchable Prince" in business circles, cooed the pet name with tender affection.

The audience swooned in unison, while my face turned pale.

Because Logan was my husband,

and I'd just given birth to his child.

Since conceiving our daughter Amanda, I'd vanished from public view for a long time.

I needed this screen time to refresh the audience's memory of me.

Yet Barbara stole the question tailored for me.

Was it an accident? Or on purpose?

I couldn't figure it out.

Across the stage, Barbara had already dialed the number.

A masculine voice answered after one ring.

"Sweetie."

The velvet, doting tone echoing through the studio made everyone gasp.

That voice unmistakably belonged to Logan—the new heir of the Young family!

"Barbara, is your boyfriend...?!" the host asked, trying to confirm.

But Barbara herself unveiled the truth next second.

She mumbled, her cheeks flushing, and whined into the phone,

"Logan! You're so annoying!"

"How many times must I say it? Stop calling me 'Sweetie'! Why won't you listen?"

A rising starlet dating the Young heir—it was a true match.

Live Comment Overlay flooded the screen in a frenzy.

Envious glances shot toward Barbara across the studio.

"Alright, alright. If you don't like 'Sweetie', I'll stop."

"But shouldn't you be filming now?"

"Did you call because you missed me?"

He indulged her without any restraint, even before Barbara could act coquettishly. Cheers and whistles erupted in the studio.

Only I felt my eyelashes tremble. I stared in disbelief, digging the almond-shaped nail polish into my palms.

How could Logan be Barbara's boyfriend?

He was my husband...

Logan and I had been in a secret marriage for seven years.

Throughout those years, I'd asked to make our relationship public several times, only to be met with his cold sneer.

"Helen Martinez, the Young family's reputation would be worthless if tied to an actress like you."

He refused.

As time passed, people grew curious about why I'd always claimed to be married, yet no man had ever been seen around me.

Some whispered I was a rich man's mistress.

Logan turned a blind eye, refusing to clarify.

But now, he was soothing Barbara over the phone.

"Hello everyone, I'm Logan, Barbara's boyfriend."

"Barbara's young and a bit naive. Please go easy on her for my sake. Thank you."

The heir of a business empire personally smoothed things over for his girlfriend's public image.

When the call ended, the dedicated host turned her gaze to me once again.

"Helen, would you like to try as well?"

As the host spoke,

Barbara immediately handed her phone to me.

"Helen, I've heard you're married, but nobody knows who your husband is."

"You've kept it hidden so long—surely it's time to introduce him?"

Her eyelashes fluttered, triumph curling her lips.

And why shouldn't she gloat?

She'd already called my husband. Who else could I possibly call?

I stood frozen with the phone.

Live Comment Overlay soon flooded with venom,

"Her sugar daddy probably only cares about her in bed. Otherwise, why would she be so hesitant?"

"Rumor says Helen had a kid. Is it a illegitimate child? She can't even remember her man's number!"

"Relax! Everyone knows Helen's trash. No man would claim her. No wonder she won't call!"

Under their barrage, Helen Unwanted topped the trending topics.

And this career opportunity I'd fought so hard for

turned me into public enemy.

When Logan got home, he didn't find me in the living room, so he frowned and pushed open the nursery door instead.

He saw me already lying down with Amanda in my arms.

His brow furrowed deeper, voice sharp, "How can you sleep without me coming back?"

For seven years of marriage, I'd waited on the sofa every night until Logan returned.

But tonight, I hadn't waited.

I didn't want to face him, so I'd turned off all the lights and slept on time—hiding away like a coward to protect myself.

Yet Logan seemed unsettled by the change.

Meeting my gaze, he placed a large gift box on the bedside table.

"I bought this for you. Open it?"

Every past gift from Logan came only after he'd upset me.

Now he was giving me another.

But staring at that box, I felt no urge to unwrap it.

Did he truly think presents could fix infidelity?

Seeing I didn't move,

Logan snapped, "Helen? Ignoring me? You don't like it?"

His darkened eyes pretended genuine effort for this gift.

After a pause, I pointed silently at the box's labels, baby diapers, baby powder... countless infant supplies.

"Even if I open these, what then? Can I use any of them?"

I refused to perform grateful tears for his charity.

Logan flew into a rage instantly.

Crimson-faced, he jabbed a finger at me, "What's with that attitude, Helen?"

"This marriage was all your scheming! Now face the consequences."

"Besides, you're not worth one of Barbara's toes! Choosing her is natural."

"Did you actually expect me to stay faithful? Pathetic."

His icy words startled sleeping Amanda awake.

She waved her tiny hands uneasily and started crying.

"Mommy... Mommy..."

Her cries sounded like the helpless whimpers of a baby animal. My heart softened instantly, and I I scooped her close.

Logan ignored us, answering Barbara's call instead.

"Honey, I can't find my slippers! The floor feels so cold!" Barbara's coquettish complaint came through the receiver.

The man who'd scowled at Amanda's cries now softened completely.

"They're right by..."

As he spoke, he walked out of the room.

Rain had begun falling outside the window.

But Logan didn't hesitate as he strode into the downpour.

He was like a hero, rushing off to save his beloved.

I smiled bitterly, overwhelmed by pain and sorrow.

After the show today, Barbara found me. "My boyfriend is so silly! I joked about not wanting kids, so he brought me someone else's baby. But it was just a joke. I am willing to give birth to one hundred kids for him!"

Her vivid words made my tears fall as I read them.

What shattered me more was Barbara's attempt to prove her point.

Beneath that post about children, she deliberately shared a photo.

It was my Amanda. Her cheeks were pinched by her sharp nails, tears streaming down her face.

As her mother, I hadn't even known Logan had taken her!

I was distraught, and couldn't sleep all night.

As if sensing my distress, Amanda suddenly developed a high fever.

Logan had driven off with the only car in the villa.

As I carried Amanda downstairs to reach the hospital, the butler stopped me.

"Mrs. Young, Mr. Young's ordered, you go nowhere without his permission!"

He visits Barbara freely yet cages me here.

Bitter laughter escaped me as fresh tears fell.

Amanda burned fiercely; nothing lowered her temperature.

Desperate, I approached the butler again.

"Amanda is sick. Send guards if you fear I'll flee."

He remained rigid. "Mrs. Young, without Mr. Young's consent, I cannot allow it."

He suggested I call Logan.

The phone rang endlessly. When answered, Barbara's voice came through.

"Calling him now? Should I tell everyone you're a homewrecker? Trying to steal my man?"

She thought I wanted Logan home.

I just needed to save Amanda.

After a pause, I spoke calmly.

"Barbara, my daughter is ill. Give Logan the phone. Tell the guards to release me!"

"Leave?" Barbara sneered. "Helen, if you truly wanted to go, you wouldn't have clung to the Young family for seven years."

"This is just your ploy to get Logan's attention!"

She moved to hang up.

I begged, "Barbara, please believe me! I never meant to... disturb you!"

"I just want to save my daughter. She is ill..."

The line cut before I finished.

Her final laugh echoed,

"Helen, your daughter's sick, not dead. Using her to win sympathy?"

"Even if she died, Logan wouldn't leave me. Tonight, we're role-playing teacher and student."

Logan was a dead end.

I stared at the cold rain outside, wrapped Amanda and myself tightly in a bedsheet, then opened the window.

Thunder rumbled as rainwater slickened the walls.

Gazing at Amanda's fever-flushed cheeks, I took a deep breath and began climbing down with her.

The walls were treacherously slippery. I nearly fell multiple times.

The moment my feet touched ground,

I ignored my bleeding fingers and sprinted toward the hospital.

The Young estate sat halfway up the mountain.

I ran along the road for what felt like eternity, losing a shoe, before spotting a car.

"My child is sick! Please, I beg you, help her!"

The owner of the luxury car kindly drove us to the hospital.

But when the doctor took Amanda from my arms, his expression turned grave.

"Quick! The operating room!"

Her tiny body was wheeled into surgery.

Hours later,

the operating room doors slid open. The doctor approached me, shaking his head remorsefully. "Ms Helen... we did everything we could."

"As a premature infant, her body was fragile. Prolonged high fever damaged her brain tissue."

"She's gone."

Amanda... dead?

I felt like I'd been clubbed over the head. Numbly, I fumbled for my phone.

Instinctively, I wanted to share everything with Logan.

But the app chose that moment to push a new Twitter notification.

Five minutes ago, Barbara had tweeted, "Silly me—didn't even realize I'm pregnant!"

"My baby, when you are born, you and Daddy must protect Mommy from all the villains trying to tear us apart!"

The attached sonogram listed Logan as father and Barbara as mother.

My Amanda has gone, while Logan has a new child.

My legs gave out, and I collapsed to the floor, gasping for air.

Why?

When Barbara's child is adored for having a beautiful mother and wealthy father,

My precious one lies alone on a cold bed,

transformed from soft, warm, and lovely—to stiff, cold, and lifeless.

Why?!

My heart wrenched in agony, yet not a single tear fell.

Following the doctor's instructions, I applied for Amanda's death certificate.

Then I took her to the crematorium, placing all that remained of her earthly existence into a small urn.

Cynthia Young rushed back from France after seeing the news online.

She found me at Logan's villa.

She wanted to speak to me.

But seeing me trying to place Amanda's photo on the funeral urn, her words died in her throat.

"How could this happen?" Her hands trembled as she frantically called Logan to return.

Unfortunately, she summoned not only Logan but also Barbara.

"Mom, Logan mentioned you adore puppies."

"This purebred Bichon Frise is specially chosen for you. Do you like it?"

Barbara oozed false sweetness, attempting to shove the dog into Cynthia's arms.

Cynthia's expression darkened, ignoring her completely.

"Logan, where were you last night? Do you even realize..."

She tried to tell him about our child's death.

But before the words escaped, Barbara's dog knocked over the funeral urn holding Amanda's ashes on the table.

The ceramic urn shattered upon the marble floor.

Amanda's ashes scattered everywhere.

Blind rage consumed me. I swung my arm and slapped Barbara hard across the face.

Logan instantly shielded her, shoving me backward.

"Helen, have you lost your mind?"

"I'll pay for some broken jar! How dare you slap Barbara?!"

Logan roared with fury.

Barbara smirked, cradling her stomach as she pretended to mediate.

"Logan, don't fight with Helen over me!"

"She never approved of me carrying your baby. Her resentment is understandable."

Logan's eyes turned glacial at her words.

He seized my throat and slammed me before Barbara, snarling, "Helen, since when do you decide anything about my children?"

"Apologize to Barbara now, or else..."

Before he finished,

Cynthia had already slapped him across the face.

"Bastard! Do you have any idea what was in that urn?!"

"Your daughter is dead! Those were her ashes!"