Olivia Bennette came to the hospital today to terminate her pregnancy.

After registering, she sat quietly, waiting for her number to be called.

All around her were couples—women with baby bumps, husbands fussing over them.

Then there was her, sitting alone, about to get an abortion. The contrast couldn’t be more stark.

Two months ago, she’d gone on a business trip with Ethan Lane.

There was a dinner party.

She drank a little too much, and when she woke up the next morning, she was alone in the hotel room.

Clothes were scattered across the floor—hers, and his white dress shirt.

At the time, her heart had been full with a silly kind of happiness.

After all those years, he finally responded to her feelings.

She truly loved him. Wholeheartedly.

But that happiness didn’t last.

Last night, she’d tried to ask him—“What if I’m pregnant?”

He casually placed a hand on her stomach and let out a light laugh. “Pregnant? Then get rid of it. I’d never let you actually carry my child.”

It was blunt. And heartless.

The words froze her to the bone.

She’d been his secretary for five years. Nursed a silent crush on him all that time.

Then spent the past two years as his wife.

Even a dog would have grown attached by now, right?

And yet, all she got from him was that kind of icy response.

Thinking of that moment, Olivia let out a bitter laugh.

Before the smile could fade, though, a man's figure came into view, holding a woman in his arms as he walked toward her.

Olivia froze.

She instinctively lowered her head, not wanting to look.

“Isn’t that Secretary Bennette?” Belinda Mitchell, her face half-covered by a mask, tugged lightly on Ethan’s sleeve and motioned for him to come closer. “I’d like to have a quick chat.”

“You should see the doctor first.” His voice was surprisingly gentle, so unlike his usual cold tone.

“I haven’t seen Secretary Bennette in ages. Just a few words, come on.”

Belinda batted her glistening eyes and tapped Ethan’s chest with a delicate finger. “It was just cramps and low blood sugar. No biggie. Don’t worry so much.”

Olivia felt someone stop in front of her.

She looked up.

It was him. Her boss.

Her so-called husband.

Standing right there with another woman in his arms.

*

Olivia’s mind blanked out.

“Secretary Bennette, long time no see. You look even more beautiful now.”

Belinda’s tone was cheerful, genuinely pleased.

When… did she come back?

Belinda Mitchell—Ethan’s first love.

Olivia forced a polite smile as she stood. “Yeah, it’s been a while.”

Belinda’s lips curled into a sweet smile. “Thanks for looking after Ethan these years. I guess only you could put up with how grumpy he can get.”

“Ethan,” so casual, so intimate.

They’d been broken up for four years now.

Olivia replied with a small smile, “Not too hard, especially when Lane Corp pays so well.”

A nurse rolled a wheelchair over.

Ethan gently helped Belinda into it. Every movement was careful and full of concern.

So he did know how to be tender—with her.

Olivia bit her lip, that sour feeling welling up again.

Belinda looked up at Ethan and thanked him, then turned back to Olivia, “Are you here for a check-up?”

“No,” Olivia said calmly, “I’m done. Just about to leave.”Belinda Mitchell clung to Ethan Lane's sleeve, leaning closer as she murmured in a syrupy voice, "I suddenly have this massive craving for chocolate. Like, I really need it right now."

"See the doctor first," Ethan said, clearly exasperated, then turned his head toward Olivia Bennette. "Ms. Bennette, could you grab a box of chocolate and bring it to the fifth floor later?"

Olivia went cold all over, a bitter smile tugging at her lips.

Asking your own wife to buy sweets for your ex? Now that’s a new level of classy.

A faint chuckle escaped her.

Whatever—plenty of hospitals do abortions. Switching to another one wasn't a big deal.

Belinda playfully tapped Ethan’s arm and gave an exaggerated eye roll. "She clearly doesn't feel well if she’s at the hospital, and you're still sending her on errands? Too much."

"It’s part of her job," he said flatly.

Right. Because being a secretary meant this kinda thing came with the territory.

Olivia lowered her head at that, trying to hide the sting in her eyes.

Her pride wouldn’t let her fall apart—at least not in front of them. She forced a smile. "You're right, Miss Mitchell. And as his secretary, it’s something I should do."

She gave them a small nod, gripped her purse a little tighter, and walked off quickly.

She headed to a nearby supermarket and bought a box of chocolate.

Back at the hospital, she stepped into the elevator and hit the button for the fifth floor.

With a soft ding, the doors opened—and there they were, locked in an embrace.

Belinda’s arms wrapped around Ethan’s waist. They were kissing.

Olivia’s stomach flipped. She pressed a hand over her pale lips, leaning against the mirror inside the elevator as she dry-heaved.

Their eyes met—hers, watery and red-rimmed; theirs, startled.

As the doors closed slowly, Olivia kept gagging, her tears threatening to spill any second.

Thankfully, she was alone in the elevator.

Belinda stared at the closed elevator doors, frowning. "What’s going on with Ms. Bennette?"

She'd definitely heard retching from inside.

Ethan froze for a second, something unreadable in his steely gaze. The memory of Olivia randomly asking about children last night flickered in his mind.

Later, Olivia handed the chocolates to a nurse and asked her to bring them up to the fifth floor. Then she drove home.

First thing she did: pack her bags. She’d be moving out tomorrow.

So much for their two-year marriage agreement. What a joke.

Time to stop dreaming and wake up.

Two years ago, Ethan’s grandma had wanted him to settle down and marry.

Ethan hadn’t even paused before asking her, "Wanna sign a prenup and get married?"

He’d thrown in a generous amount of money as part of the deal.

And Olivia? She’d had feelings for him for ages. Plus, she was in urgent need of cash back then. So she agreed.

She thought that even if it started off as a contract, she could make it real.

Naive. She actually believed love would win out.

But Belinda’s return made that belief look downright pitiful.

Love for love? What a joke.

Night fell.

She waited for him patiently, ready to talk.

From six till eight, she sat there, even called him a few times. Not a single answer.

Ethan didn’t come home at all.

Then Sophie Lane forwarded her a picture from Belinda’s social feed.

Ethan, in a bathrobe, blow-drying Belinda’s hair.

Bathrobe. Late at night. With his ex.

Olivia stared hard at the photo, blinking through the burn in her eyes, and let out a bitter laugh.

Expressionless, she rifled through a drawer and pulled out their marriage contract from two years ago.

Her eyes landed on one particular clause:

“If either party files for divorce within five years, they must pay the other a penalty of 200 million.”When Olivia and Ethan got married, she asked for a dowry of thirty million, and Ethan casually wired her a hundred million instead.

She did some mental math—after setting aside the money for her brother’s medical bills, she still had about ninety million.

But filing for divorce now? No way she could afford the two hundred million breach-of-contract penalty.

Olivia rubbed her face, tucked the agreement away, changed clothes, grabbed her keys, and left the house.

*

There were bars all over Shenshi.

Olivia had never stepped into one before. Today she ordered a drink, but staring at the glass, she couldn’t bring herself to take a sip—not with the baby in her belly.

She set the glass down.

A bitter smile tugged at her lips.

She couldn’t even use alcohol to drown her sorrows.

Outside the bar, she took in a deep breath—but the moment she exhaled, tears started falling like they had a mind of their own.

She’d loved him for years, and what did she get in return? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

An empty cab waited up ahead with the door wide open. Olivia climbed in, her voice stuffy and soft. "To Jadespring Villa, please."

The taxi driver glanced at the rearview mirror, seeing a man and a woman in silence. Looked like they'd just had a fight.

Trying to play the peacemaker, the driver offered some unsolicited advice. "Men gotta learn to give in a little more, you know?"

The engine growled to life and the car pulled out.

It was only then that Olivia realized something felt off. She turned—and sure enough, through swollen, teary eyes, she saw a man sitting beside her.

He wore a mask, face hidden.

"Wait—Sir, could you stop the car? Sorry, I got in the wrong cab.”

"......"

The car pulled over. Olivia apologized again and stepped out quickly.

She took one last glance at the man.

He was staring back.

**

Ethan didn’t come home until the next morning to change clothes.

The moment he stepped inside, he noticed several suitcases piled up in the living room.

"Someone visiting?" he asked hoarsely, loosening the buttons on his shirt.

"They're mine," Olivia said, her gaze locked on a blatant lipstick stain right at his white collar.

She pointed at it. "Lipstick mark."

Ethan tugged the collar down to check—yep, a kiss imprint, bold as day.

His expression flickered with a trace of awkwardness—just a flash—before turning cold and unreadable again.

He didn’t even bother coming up with an excuse.

Just like she thought.

Olivia let out a soft laugh.

Ethan frowned. "What’s so funny?"

"Nothing. Just saw something ridiculous. I’m heading to the office."

She grabbed her purse and slipped on some flats on her way out.

Ethan went upstairs to the bedroom. As he stepped into the bathroom, he realized there were no clothes laid out for him.

Olivia always used to set them out before he showered.

Expression blank, he walked back out, phone in one hand, pulling open a drawer with the other.

"Just remembered—meant to ask you something."

He opened the dresser drawer.

"Olivia, you’re not pregnant, are you?"

His voice, calm and detached over the phone, hit her like a brick to the chest, her heart instantly thrumming painfully.

Pulling the car to the curb, Olivia flatly denied it. "No. My stomach's just been acting up a bit lately."

Ethan leaned lazily against the wardrobe, eyes cold. There was a mocking tilt in his tone.

"Olivia, don’t play games. You really think using a baby to cash in still works these days?"

That hit her like a punch.

Was that really what he thought of her?

She gently rested her hand on her flat belly, tone neutral.

"Chairman Lane, how could I be pregnant? Didn’t we take precautions that night? High-quality stuff—no failures reported.”

Ethan’s eyes lifted slightly, revealing nothing.