Around two in the morning, the emergency department at Manhattan General was unusually quiet.

Only the hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional beep from the monitoring equipment echoed through the corridors.

After finishing her rounds, Rose Bennett had just sat down in her chair in the staff lounge when the phone in her pocket beeped.

She took it out and, upon seeing the name on the screen, a smile appeared on her exhausted face.

It was a voice message from her daughter, Ariel.

She opened WhatsApp and clicked on the voice note.

“Mama...” a sweet little voice came from the phone, and Rose’s expression softened instantly.

“Mama, is my daddy dead?”

Hearing that question, Rose froze, her fingers tightening unconsciously around her phone.

On the other end, Ariel continued in her sweet yet confused voice, “All the other kids have daddies, and they come to pick them up from kindergarten. But mine never visits me. Grandma says he is very busy... but how can someone be busy for five whole years? Doesn’t that mean he’s dead?”

Hearing her daughter’s words, Rose lowered her head, her throat tightening painfully.

Ariel’s father was not dead.

But he was no better than dead.

Ariel was already five years old, old enough to have her own little thoughts and notice the empty space where her father should have been.

Rose leaned back against her chair, her eyes drifting toward the window. New York glowed cold and silver beneath the city lights.

Slowly, her thoughts drifted to the past.

Seven years ago, she had married a man named Ryan Knight.

However, theirs had never been a marriage built on love. It was nothing more than an arrangement meant to protect the Knight family’s reputation.

So when Rose discovered she was pregnant, instead of getting an abortion, she went alone to another province to give birth.

What’s more, Ryan’s grandfather, Mr. Knight, had never considered her a suitable match for the family. He had forced her to sign a seven-year agreement. According to its terms, once the seven years were over, she and Ryan would divorce peacefully.

No entanglements.

No attachments.

So she had decided long ago that the child would belong only to her.

But now...

Children were far more sensitive than adults imagined.

For the first time in years, she hesitated.

Should she tell Ryan about Ariel?

If she told him that he could skip the exhausting years of diapers and midnight fevers and effortlessly become the father of a five-year-old daughter... would he be happy?

Rose let out a cold laugh at herself.

She replayed the voice message several times before finally exiting Ariel’s chat window and opening the one she shared with Ryan.

Their chat history was pitifully sparse.

Mostly:

[Grandmother wants us home for dinner.]

[Mm.]

Or:

[I am on night shift tonight.]

[Understood.]

Nothing more.

They were nothing more than two strangers forced to share a marriage certificate.

Finally taking a deep breath, she typed:

[Do you like children...?]

She stared at the message for a minute before deleting it.

Then she typed again:

[What if I told you we had a daughter...?]

Once again, she deleted it.

She repeated the process more than ten times, but in the end, the typing box remained empty.

Looking at the blank screen, Rose rubbed her temples.

“Forget it. There are only three months left before our agreement ends. There’s no need to complicate things.”

Just then, hurried footsteps sounded outside the door, and it was suddenly pushed open by the nurse on duty.

“Dr. Bennett!” the nurse said anxiously. “We have an emergency patient. It’s suspected that vigorous intercourse during early pregnancy may have caused

a ruptured corpus luteum!”

Rose immediately turned off her screen.

She quickly stood up and followed the young nurse out, frowning deeply. “This is ridiculous! You’re not supposed to have sex in the first trimester! And these people..."

“What's her current vitals?”

“Blood pressure is unstable. Approximately eight weeks pregnant.”

Rose pushed open the curtain while pulling on her gloves.

“Prepare the ultrasound and notify—”

Her words stopped abruptly as her eyes fell on the woman lying on the hospital bed.

The woman looked pale and fragile, clutching her abdomen tightly.

“Samantha?” Rose called out in surprise.

Samantha glanced at her, then deliberately looked away without responding.

The woman lying on the hospital bed was none other than Samantha Hill, the fiancée of Ryan’s cousin.

However, that cousin had been in federal prison for the past five months.

So...

Rose’s gaze flickered briefly toward Samantha’s flat abdomen.

Even if she was pregnant, it couldn’t have been more than a month or two.

But if that was the case...

The math didn’t add up.

Even though she was curious, Rose asked no questions.

Doctors in Manhattan hospitals quickly learned that the secrets of wealthy families were above their pay grade.

Without saying another word, Rose adopted a professional tone.

“Lie down. Let me examine you first.”

Her voice was cold and detached.

Samantha looked up.

The moment their eyes met, something strange flickered across Samantha’s face.

Then she suddenly pulled her hand away.

“I want another doctor.”

The nurse frowned. “Miss Hill, your condition—”

“I said I want a transfer,” Samantha interrupted coldly.

She had always disliked Rose’s aloof and haughty demeanor.

Rose’s expression remained calm. “Miss Hill, before transfer procedures, we need to conduct a basic examination to ensure your safety.”

As Rose reached forward, Samantha abruptly slapped her hand away.

The force was sharp enough to sting.

Rose lowered her eyes. The back of her hand was already turning red.

At the same time, Samantha turned toward the doorway, her eyes reddening instantly.

“Ryan...”

Hearing that name, Rose’s back stiffened.

That single word pierced straight through her nerves like a needle.

Slowly, she turned around.

A tall man stood beneath the cold white lights outside the curtain.

His stride was steady and decisive, his black overcoat draped over one arm. Tall and slender, he carried an air of nobility that was impossible to ignore.

As he walked forward, his gaze briefly met Rose’s.

But only for a fleeting moment.

Soon, he moved past her and headed directly toward Samantha’s bedside.

“How is she?” Ryan asked softly, his voice low and cold, filled with concern.

Rose stared at the tall, handsome man before her, shock filling her eyes.

She had never expected that the man accompanying Samantha to the hospital in the middle of the night would be her husband—the man she had secretly been married to for seven years.

Samantha bit her lower lip as tears gathered in her eyes. “Ryan, you know the reason why I am here. I’m little scared...”

That single sentence made it instantly clear to the staff around them.

Wasn’t this just confirming that the male protagonist of the “passionate lovemaking” was the man standing right in front of her?

Ryan offered no denial or explanation to the others.

Seeing this scene, Rose felt a sharp pain stab through her chest.

She watched helplessly as her husband treated… his sister-in-law with such concern and indulgence.

Even though Ryan was usually unemotional, a woman’s nature is sensitive—how could she fail to sense the subtleties of this situation?

Especially since the reason Samantha had been rushed to the emergency room was so shameful—and her husband was actually privy to the details!

It wasn’t until that moment that a chill ran through her entire body.

She had always believed that Ryan's coldness toward her was simply his nature, not that he was incapable of love.

Now she understood: he simply had someone else in his heart.

Yet the current situation and her own position were so absurd it made her want to laugh.

Anyone with eyes could see who the so-called “passionate lovemaking” was with tonight.

Seeing that she remained motionless for a long time, Ryan's gaze finally settled on her.

It was like a poisonous sting, bringing Rose back to her senses for a moment.

Her gloved hand—which had been poised to examine him—trembled imperceptibly.

It was as if the sting from Samantha's slap had taken effect belatedly, causing a momentary lack of oxygen to her brain.

Samantha noticed Ryan’s indifferent, stranger-like attitude toward Rose, and a subtle smile flashed across her face.

“Ryan,” she said softly, “I want to transfer hospitals. I don’t like the doctors here.”

“Alright.”

Ryan agreed without hesitation, as though he would grant any request Samantha made.

The intimacy between them was obvious—something outsiders could never intrude upon.

And from Rose’s perspective, as the wife who had once deeply loved the man standing before her, how could she possibly fail to notice it?

The pain was so sharp it felt as though her heart were being torn apart piece by piece.

Ryan handled all the arrangements personally and meticulously.

Throughout the entire process, he never once spoke to Rose.

Not even a greeting.

Let alone any trace of guilt or shame.

Even after they left the ward, Rose still couldn’t recover from the shock.

Meanwhile, the colleagues who had witnessed everything immediately launched into a flurry of gossip.

“My goodness! Young people these days really know how to have fun.”

The younger nurse looked envious. “But that guy is seriously gorgeous. He even looks like he’d be amazing in bed.”

Rose kept her head lowered as she quietly removed her gloves, her expression unreadable.

“Is that so?” she replied absentmindedly.

The nurse failed to notice the underlying meaning behind her words. Then something suddenly occurred to her.

“By the way, Rose,” she whispered, leaning closer, “haven’t you been married for years? Why have I never heard you mention having kids?”

Rose tossed the gloves into the trash can.

“My husband has erectile dysfunction,” she said calmly. “He’s still undergoing treatment.”