Chapter 2

Under the weight of my silence, Donovan's face hardened with annoyance, as if I were a bratty child ruining his fun.

"What are you doing here? I told you to stay home."

A thousand needles pierced my heart, one after another. This wasn't the man who had hung tiny Christmas stockings in the nursery, who had cooed over our unborn baby just months ago. Now, he shielded his secretary and snarled at me like a stranger.

Tears spilled down my cheeks, and I bit my lip until I tasted blood.

"Donovan, you once said cheaters deserved to die."

His expression turned stormy, defensive and furious.

"Show some respect. We're just messing around. You're fat and gross right now. I still sleep next to you—that's more than enough. Every man in my circle has a mistress. I'll come back after the baby's born."

Pressing a hand to my belly, a cold rage coiled in my chest. Pregnancy had swollen my legs, left me vomiting for hours, and turned my skin rough and sallow. Donovan's affection had curdled into disgust, his gaze lingering on my stretch marks with visible revulsion. I had pretended not to notice for the sake of our baby. But I was a fool to let him use my suffering as a weapon.

"Donovan, I want a divorce."

Stunned, his arrogant expression cracked.

"You're carrying my baby. Where would you even go? Play nice with Chloe, and you keep the Mercer name. Only your kids will inherit my fortune."

Wiggling her hips with feigned innocence, Chloe batted her lashes.

"Don't be mad at him on my account, Elena."

Donovan pinched her waist, his tone harsh and dismissive.

"All women have babies. She's just being dramatic."

Unable to hold it back any longer, I retched violently, splattering sour vomit across Chloe's coat.

She shrieked with rage, slapping a hand to her chest.

"You bitch! You did that on purpose!"

I struck back hard, my palm stinging against her cheek.

"Bitch? Who are you calling a bitch?"

Furious and vicious, she shoved me square in my pregnant belly. Heavy and helpless, I lost my balance and crashed to the carpet.

The room erupted in cruel, mocking laughter.

"She looks like a fat turtle!"

Before the shame could even sink in, a tearing pain exploded in my abdomen. A warm, sticky flood gushed between my legs, darkening the carpet beneath me.

I locked eyes with Donovan, my voice cracking with terror.

"Donovan—take me to the hospital. My water broke!"

In that second, I realized he would choose his own pleasure over our baby's life.