After My Husband’s Fake Death, He Brought His Pregnant Mistress

On our son's birthday, my husband took him out for a simple celebration. But both of them were killed in a car accident. What was meant to be a memory turned into a lifelong scar.

After that, I spiraled. Depression consumed me, and I attempted to take my own life more than once.

It wasn’t until I was pulled back from the edge again that I was told the cruelest truth of all: the child I had been carrying, my husband’s last gift, was gone.

Out of guilt, I chose to live. Not for myself but for the love I still carried for him and for the baby we lost.

Three months later, while walking through downtown, I looked up at a giant screen and froze. Holden Brennan was standing there, alive, hosting a press conference, proudly announcing Claire Carver.

I couldn’t believe he was still alive.

When I finally returned home, he was there, standing in the living room as if death had never touched him. Alive. Whole. And beside him stood a woman, heavily pregnant.

At that moment, I finally understood that my husband had never died.

Holden spoke without hesitation, "I’ve always loved Claire. If you hadn’t drugged and seduced me, if we hadn’t had that child, I would’ve been with her long ago."

"The fake death was only to protect Claire’s child. Now, I’m bringing her into this house as my rightful wife."

So it turned out that what I believed was love had been nothing but lies. Holden had never loved me. And since that’s the truth, then he’ll pay for every single wound he’s left behind.

……

I had longed for him day and night, and now, there he stood, alive, right in front of me. My eyes blurred as tears streamed uncontrollably down my face.

But Holden stood cold and distant, unmoved. He spoke to me like I was nothing more than the help.

"Claire is pregnant now. Take good care of her. It’s not easy for her."

As he spoke, he gently helped Claire into a seat, his gaze soft, full of tenderness only meant for her.

I stared at the man I once loved, my lips trembling as I forced a smile.

"Honey, it’s me. Why are you back all of a sudden? I’ve missed you so much."

I ran toward him, desperate to hold him, but he shoved me away without hesitation. I crashed to the floor.

Kneeling, I looked up at him in disbelief, my body trembling, tears spilling from my eyes.

"Don’t touch me. Just do your job as the housemaid."

I had given birth to his son. I had mourned him in silence for six months, staying loyal even in death.

And now, he was treating me like a servant to his mistress.

A bitter laugh slipped from my lips as I stared at him, my eyes burning with hatred. But Holden only frowned and continued, "Claire is allergic to mangoes, and she doesn’t eat green vegetables. Make sure you remember that when cooking."

"She likes her room spotless. Clean it thoroughly every day."

I bit my lip, eyes wet with unshed tears, listening as he listed every one of Claire’s preferences. Bitterness rose in my throat. We had been married five years, and not once did he remember what I was allergic to.

"And where’s Brody? Claire likes fluffy things. From now on, he’s her dog."

At the sound of his name, Brody dashed in from the backyard, tail wagging. When he saw me on the floor, he gently tugged at my sleeve with his teeth, his soft face rubbing against my leg, easing my pain for just a moment.

I had found Brody when he was still a stray puppy. Back then, Holden couldn’t stand him, he claimed he was allergic and used to beat him, threatening me never to let a single strand of fur appear in the house.

Brody had been so tiny, so thin. I had begged on my knees for days before Holden finally agreed to let me keep him on one condition: he was to stay in the backyard.

All because Claire said she liked dogs, Holden suddenly had no problem with it. The allergy he once claimed to have was conveniently forgotten. The dog I had raised with love was handed over to someone else like he meant nothing. I didn’t even get a say.

Holden called Brody over. Maybe it had been too long, but Brody still remembered him. He bounded over happily, tail wagging, and jumped onto both him and Claire. She stumbled, clutching her belly in pain.

Holden’s eyes darkened. Without a word, he shoved Brody away and pulled out the same whip he used to discipline him.

I couldn’t stand by. As his owner, I threw myself forward and shielded Brody with my body, the lashes landing hard on my back.

He didn’t hold back. The whip cracked with full force, pain tearing through me until I screamed. My tears spilled, my body trembled uncontrollably before I collapsed in agony.

Holden’s pupils shrank. He hadn’t expected me to protect Brody like that. Just as he looked down, guilt flickering in his eyes, Claire stepped in and gently took his hand, resting it over her belly.

“Brother Holden, it’s okay. I’m fine,” she said sweetly, handing the whip back to him while helping me up. “The dog really is too aggressive. It needs discipline. Poor Alexis got caught in the middle. It hurts me more than it hurts her.”

Her soft voice worked only on Holden. His anger melted as he looked at her with satisfaction, gently stroking her head. As she helped lift me, she wore the smile of a victor.

I glared at her, then used the last of my strength to shove her hand away.

She staggered back deliberately, landing in Holden’s arms with tears brimming in her eyes.

“Brother Holden, I think big sister really hates me. What did I do wrong?”

“No one in this house dares to bully you, Claire,” he said, his voice full of affection.

Seeing the woman he loved appear so wronged, he immediately redirected his fury toward me. He stormed over, his voice thundering as he scolded me for being hostile.

I looked up at his furious face, my own pale, my body trembling. A bitter laugh slipped from my lips. This man, who showered affection on his mistress, couldn’t spare a single glance for his wife. Not once did he ask how I’d survived the past six months. Not once did he ask about the child I lost.

His fury was contagious. My sadness twisted into fierce hatred. As he gripped me, I wiped away my tears and stood firm.

Pointing to my old, yellowed wedding ring, I spoke, “Do you remember this ring? I wore it every day, even after you ‘died.’ I mourned you faithfully for six long months.”

“Why did you fake your death? Why come back now as if nothing happened? Answer me!”

“And don’t you dare lay another hand on Brody? He’s family to me. Next time, I won’t just block the blow…”

He stood there, stunned by my trembling defiance, unable to speak.

Claire coughed softly, laced her fingers through his, and raised their hands high.

“See it clearly now? Brother Holden faked his death because he wanted to be with me. He’s always only loved me.”

But he dropped her hand and lowered his gaze, avoiding my eyes. She didn’t mind. Instead, she stepped closer, flashing a tencarat yellow diamond.

“This was specially designed by Brother Holden. Isn’t it beautiful?”

Her radiant glow and the care she received stood in sharp contrast to my worn, fading appearance.

She pointed at my threadbare coat and tiny, tarnished diamond ring, then burst out laughing.

Grabbing my hand to inspect the ring, she sneered, “Wow, this is the smallest diamond I’ve ever seen. And it’s turning yellow…”

Her sparkling diamond blinded me, shining as sharply as her malice.

I stared coldly at her fake politeness, forced a smile, and slapped her.

“Claire, are you alright?”

“Alexis, what do you think you’re doing?!”

It wasn’t even a hard slap, but she clutched her belly and dropped to her knees, pretending to have a contraction. Holden, alarmed, rushed to her side, his eyes full of worry.

Then he turned on me, kicking me hard in the stomach. “Now you’ll feel what she felt!”

I collapsed, clutching my belly in pain, curling up in agony. Sweat drenched my forehead as I stared at the loving couple before me with burning hatred.

Tears streamed down my face.

Holden, she only faked a contraction, and you ran to her side. But me? I tried to die again and again for you. I lost our child, and you didn’t even care.

Pain overwhelmed me, and I blacked out. But the tears never stopped flowing freely from my eyes.

When I woke again, the sharp sting of hydrogen peroxide assaulted my nose, forcing a violent cough and sending a stabbing pain through my abdomen.

After Holden had supposedly died suddenly, I had tried to end my life more than once. Three days ago, I was rescued and discovered, much to my shock, that I had been three months pregnant, only to lose the baby in a miscarriage.

At that time, I had been admitted to this very hospital. Grief weighed heavily on me, and I longed to leave. After three days of rest, I returned home.

My body remained fragile. Holden’s cruel kick had struck my stomach with such force that I blacked out from the pain. Now, I was back in this hospital, swallowed by a whirlpool of emotions.

Lost in my sorrow, the hospital room door suddenly opened. “Miss, you’re finally awake.”

I looked up to see Willow rushing toward me, worry etched on her face. Willow Bradford had served as our family’s housekeeper for over ten years and had always cared deeply for me. When Holden was declared dead, I had lost all will to live. It was only through Willow’s support and encouragement that I held on.

“Willow, why are you here?” I grasped her rough yet warm hands.

“I brought you here. When I got home and saw you collapsed on the floor, I thought you were trying to take your life again…” Willow’s voice trembled, her eyes reddening.

“No, Willow, I won’t do that again. I passed out because of Holden.”

“He’s back,” I said, lowering my gaze with a heavy sigh.

Willow didn’t seem surprised by the news of Holden’s ‘resurrection,’ as if she had expected it all along.

“Yes, I know. He’s here at the hospital right now,” she said quietly.

I let out a cold, bitter laugh.

“It’s not like he brought me here. Why would he? He’s probably cuddling that mistress of his back at home right now.”

Willow gripped my hand tighter, her eyes avoiding mine as if holding back something important.

I urged her to speak freely, assuring her I wouldn’t mind.

“That new woman at home… she’s about to give birth. Young Master is upstairs, just outside the maternity ward, waiting anxiously,” Willow whispered, her voice barely audible, but the weight of her words slammed into my heart like a hammer.

Pain shot through my abdomen, radiating up to my chest. I stayed silent, tears falling slowly, one by one.

My blurred vision stirred memories of the difficult labor I had endured.

When I first got pregnant with our child, joy filled me, but Holden remained cold and distant. I thought his harshness came from work pressure, so I tried to support him by going with him to meet clients.

He took me to a reserved private room, but during the drinks, he said he felt ill and left for the restroom. I waited endlessly, but he never returned. Left with no choice and unable to refuse, I accepted a glass of liquor from one of the clients.

As the liquor settled in my stomach, sharp contractions suddenly gripped me. My water broke right then and there. I was rushed into an ambulance, but Holden was nowhere to be found.

The alcohol had caused heavy bleeding, and labor became agonizingly difficult. Two hours dragged by with no sign of the baby. I was utterly drained. I glanced toward the glass window and saw Willow standing outside, eyes shimmering with tears, silently mouthing, “Hang in there.”

Summoning every ounce of strength, I finally gave birth half an hour later.

But when I woke again, Holden was still absent. From start to finish, only Willow had stayed by my side.

Just as I was about to be discharged, Holden finally appeared, claiming he had been sent away on a lastminute business trip and couldn’t be with me.

Later, while sorting through his suit jacket, I discovered an opened box of condoms tucked inside the inner pocket, with only one or two left.

Furious, I confronted him with the box. He shrugged it off, saying his jacket had been lent by a colleague because his own was dirty, joking about how “energetic” that colleague was.

The very next day, an identical jacket was delivered to our house, and that was enough to ease my doubts.

“Willow, I need some fresh air. Could you bring me a bowl of chicken soup? I’m hungry.” I wiped away my tears and slowly rose from the bed.

I wandered alone to the maternity ward upstairs, catching sight of Holden from afar. He paced nervously outside, his brow furrowed, stealing anxious glances into the room. In the glass reflection, I spotted a tear shimmering at the corner of his eye.

Claire’s voice rang out, loud and strained. Through the glass, I saw her pushing with every ounce of strength. The clock on the wall told me it had been exactly two hours, she must be enduring a hard labor too.

“Congratulations! Both mother and child are safe. It was a difficult delivery, but the baby pulled through.”

The doctor emerged, cradling a chubby baby boy, and congratulated Holden. He let out a deep sigh of relief, gazed at the child with joy, and kissed his forehead tenderly. Claire was wheeled into the ward, Holden trailing close behind, his hand gripping hers tightly.

Holden had become a father again, a picture of blissful family happiness.

I stood silently in the hallway corner, tears streaming uncontrollably. Sitting in the corridor, hunched and trembling as I rubbed my belly, I clasped my head and wept with bitter sorrow.

Holden, I drank and entertained clients for your sake. I drank so much that I went into difficult labor, and you didn’t care at all.

But now, for her, you waited anxiously outside the delivery room for two long hours. For your “wife.”

I had been too foolish. I should’ve known the moment I found that box of condoms that your heart had already slipped away to someone else.

While I was in labor, you were probably lying in a warm bed with Claire, whispering secret promises.

My heart shattered completely for Holden. I cried until I blacked out.

Willow noticed I was missing from the ward and searched the entire hospital until she found me unconscious in the hallway.

“You’re awake.” A familiar voice, it was Holden.

I struggled to open my swollen, tearstreaked eyes. The warm smell of chicken soup drifted through the air.

“You’re finally awake, miss. Where did you run off to? I couldn’t find you anywhere.” Willow sat beside my bed, her eyes red and swollen, clearly just finished crying.

Just as I was about to comfort her and say I was fine, I looked up and saw Holden standing beside her.

“Claire just gave birth. Since you’re awake, your body should be fine. Go to the room next door and take care of her,” he said coldly.

I said nothing, my bloodshot eyes locking onto him, silently burning with rage.

He didn’t get a reply and frowned in annoyance. “What, you’re still not better?”

Willow was about to speak up for me, but I slowly opened my mouth and gave a cold smile.

“That night with Claire must’ve been fun, huh?”

“What are you talking about?” Holden’s pupils widened as he stared at me in disbelief.

“Nothing. Just seeing her give birth reminded me of when I gave birth to Nolan; it took two and a half hours. I didn’t see you until the next day.”

“You weren’t on some sudden business trip, were you? Even had a coworker cover for you…” I said mockingly, watching the flicker of unease cross his face.

“You…you’re talking nonsense. No need to dredge up the past. Just take care of Claire’s baby.” He turned to leave.

His eyes avoided mine. He couldn’t stand to be near me even for another second. I was right all along.

Willow picked up the soup and gently blew on it before bringing it to my lips. “It’s okay, miss. I’ll take care of her. You don’t have to listen to him.”

I took a bite; the warmth and taste were comforting. Our eyes met, and the kindness in Willow’s gaze planted a fleeting thought of escape. But before I could leave, I still needed to pay my debts.

“It’s fine, Willow. You’ve carried this household alone for too long. Since he wants me to care for her, I’ll do as he says.”

After several days of rest and healing, just as I was preparing to leave the hospital, Holden stood waiting for me at the entrance.

“Alexis, I was reckless last time, and it caused you pain. Let’s go home.” Concern softened his gaze as he handed me my clothes.

I looked at him in surprise, taken aback by his sudden care.

He opened the car door for me and helped me inside, then offered me a cup of hot coffee he’d made ahead. When I hesitated, he leaned forward and gently blew on it.

“Alright, it’s cool enough now. Drink up.”

I sipped, curious about Holden’s unexpected kindness.

“Please look after Claire for me. I just returned, and there’s still plenty to handle at work.”

“Let’s visit your parents. It’s been too long.”

I smiled with knowing eyes. So that was why he had been so kind, he wanted me to care for his little mistress, and visiting my parents was clearly about investment talks.

When I first decided to marry Holden, my parents had strongly opposed it, convinced I was marrying beneath myself to help the poor. But I pleaded with them for three long months, determined to prove my choice.

“Alexis, what’s so special about that poor boy? We’ve already arranged a better match for you. Wouldn’t it be easier to live as a wealthy wife?”

“Dad, Holden treats me well and works hard. Even if his family isn’t as rich as ours, I won’t suffer with him.”

“Dad, Mom, I swear on my life, I will treat Alexis well…”

In the end, my father couldn’t resist and had to call off the arranged marriage with the Dalton family. Holden and I held hands tightly, tears of joy streaming down our faces.

I rubbed my belly, still weak from recovery. A faint ache lingered in my lower abdomen. I turned to gaze at the scenery outside the window, now growing more familiar.

“We’re here. Let’s go.” Holden took my hand, their fingers intertwining just like before.

From the trunk, he pulled out fine wine and supplements he had already prepared. Together, we stepped into the house.

Since his return, Holden had contacted my dad on the very first day. Naturally, my father was incredulous. A soninlaw, thought dead for six months, suddenly calls? Even after Holden explained, my father’s doubt remained.

Dad had asked him to bring me home to see him. Holden handed me my phone, which was left behind at home, buzzing with messages and missed calls from Dad, urging me to return today.

“Holden, what brings you here?” Uncle Elias, the butler, noticed us.

Holden squeezed my hand gently. “We came to see Dad, check on how he’s doing.”

Uncle Elias’s eyes widened at the sight of Holden alive and well. “It’s rare for Mr. Brooks to be home today. He’s been waiting for you two. Go on in.”

Holden held my hand firmly as we stepped through the door. Uncle Elias watched us with a warm smile.

“How lovely. Married all these years and still so in love. Miss never picked the wrong man.”

The last time we came home, it was to announce my pregnancy. But now, everything has changed. I sighed quietly inside.

I forced a gentle smile, hoping to ease the paleness from my face. “Dad, Mom, we’re back.”

Dad, already settled on the couch, sprang up and pulled me into a tight embrace.

“Alexis, it’s been so long. You’ve lost so much weight.”

I didn’t want him to worry, so I brushed it off lightly and told him that I’ve just had no appetite lately because of the heat.

Holden never loosened his grip on my hand. “Dad, Alexis has been trying to shed some pounds, so she’s been eating less. I keep telling her she looks better with a little more weight.”

“Lose weight? That won’t do at all. Girls should eat well and stay healthy. Your mom and I knew you were coming back today, so we made all your favorite dishes.”

Holden set the supplements down and noticed the cooperation agreement spread out on the coffee table. He smiled quietly to himself and gently guided me toward the dining table.

“Holden, come here for a moment,” Dad called him over, and Holden approached as if ready.

“Since you’re back, the cooperation you mentioned earlier, here it is. I’ve already drafted it. You just need to sign.”

“But I’ll remind you what you said back then: I only have one daughter. If you ever mistreat her, I have plenty of ways to deal with you.” Dad handed him the agreement with deliberate calm. Holden’s face lit up with a confident smile as he nodded again and again.

“Don’t worry, Dad. Alexis has suffered enough with me. I promise I’ll treat her right.”

Before I could even reach for my spoon and fork, Holden was already busy filling my bowl with all my favorite dishes.

“Alexis, here’s your sweet and sour pork. I could never get it right at home. Only your mom’s cooking comes close.” He gently held the meat to my lips, his eyes warm and tender.

Across the table, my parents exchanged satisfied smiles, their eyes shining at the sight of our closeness.

For a fleeting moment, it felt like the old days when Holden first came to my house. He used to feed me like this, so carefully and lovingly. I glanced at him. He hadn’t changed at all. His eyes were still clear, still pure, just like five years ago.

I thought he had truly changed, ready to love me again like in the beginning. Shyly, I lifted the pork toward my mouth, only to bite into empty air. His phone suddenly rang, and he hurried to answer.

Though he moved quickly, the caller ID was clear.

“Baby.”

No need to guess, it was Claire. Holden took the call hurriedly, explaining to my parents it was an urgent company meeting he had to attend.

My parents nodded, and he rose immediately, patting my head as he left.

“Alexis, stay home and rest. I’ll come pick you up tonight.”

My smile stiffened. Even though he spoke softly, I caught Claire’s coquettish voice through the line.

For her, Holden didn’t hesitate to leave, even forgetting the muchanticipated cooperation agreement on the table.

“Holden is really busy, huh?” Dad put down his spoon and fork. “Since he left, Alexis, if there’s anything you want to say, just tell us.”

I couldn’t fool Dad, but I didn’t want to worry them, so I brushed it off lightly.

After dinner, I retreated to my room to rest. Late into the night, my phone buzzed relentlessly.

When I unlocked it, dozens of photos and several long videos flooded the screen, sent from an unknown number.

Every image showed Holden gently massaging Claire, then teasing her before their passionate kiss. Some scenes were too explicit to describe. I didn’t dare look closely before tears blurred my vision, and my heart sank into a frozen pit.

“Brother Holden’s lips are so soft,” a message flashed.

A shiver ran through me. My phone slipped from my trembling hand, crashing into the water glass on the bedside table. The glass shattered loudly.

My parents rushed upstairs.

“Alexis, are you alright?”

I swallowed hard, forcing calm as I hurried to gather the shards. But the broken glass cut deep, nearly slicing my wrist. Blood poured freely.

Mom rushed to my side, gently wrapping my hand. I explained I’d accidentally dropped the glass. Tears welled in her eyes as she saw the wound.

“Are you hiding something from us?” Dad’s voice was heavy with concern.

I lowered my head in silence. My phone vibrated relentlessly, and with trembling fingers, I opened it. Claire’s mocking messages flooded the screen.

“Do you believe if I said I’m sick, Brother Holden would ignore you for three whole days?”

Before I could react, a message from Holden arrived.

[A major client just signed today. I’ll be tied up at the company for the next three days. You rest well at home. It’s rare for you to come back.]

I replied, [Okay. Don’t overwork yourself.] But it felt like swallowing shards of glass. My heart ripped and bleeding inside.

“Tell us what’s really happening. We won’t let you suffer.” My parents squeezed my hands tightly.

Since Holden’s faked death, their beloved grandson Nolan had vanished, too. I had always told them Nolan was staying with his other grandparents, shielding them from worry.

I threw my arms around them, my voice breaking. “Dad, Mom, I missed you so much.”

At that moment, Claire set her phone down and gazed at Holden, who slept peacefully beside her. Her fingers traced the sharp lines of his face with a delicate touch.

“Brother Holden, let’s be together forever.”

Her eyes flicked to the phone screen, where the message showed as “Read.”

Still craving more, Claire’s lips curled into a sly smile. She rose quietly and slipped toward the backyard, her gaze playfully fixed on the sleeping Brody.

Claire walked softly, plucking tufts of fur from Brody and scattering them beneath the bed.

The next morning, Holden woke up itching all over. He didn’t think much of it, blaming the dust Aunt Willow hadn’t cleaned properly.

Though busy with company affairs, Holden always put Claire’s comfort first. Whenever she said she felt unwell, he delayed meetings to stay by her side.

Before every visit home, Claire sprayed herself with chamomile perfume, the scent Brody adored. At the smell, the dog would leap toward her with excitement.

This time, when Holden arrived, a scream pierced the air, tightening his chest.

“Claire! What’s wrong?” Holden rushed inside and found Brody towering over Claire, who knelt trembling on the floor.

“Brother Holden, I’m scared. That dog lunged at me and tried to bite.” Claire hid in his arms, tears shining in her eyes as she looked up at him, vulnerable and afraid.

Holden began itching again, shooting a sharp glance at Brody. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle this. But Alexis is really attached to Brody, so let’s wait until she’s back.”

Since sealing the cooperation with my dad, Holden’s attitude toward me had softened, no longer cold when others were around.

“Alexis? Well, she is the dog’s owner, after all.”

Claire’s face instantly cooled, surprised that Holden hadn’t rushed to deal with the dog for her. She swallowed her feelings and simply nodded in reluctant agreement.

Holden helped Claire to her feet, and she slipped her arms around his neck.

“Brother Holden, let’s go see the baby. He’s sleeping so peacefully.”

“No, I’m going to pick up Alexis. If you’re hungry, ask Aunt Willow to fix you something.” Holden gently pulled away and headed toward the door.

Claire stood frozen while Brody, drawn once more by the scent of chamomile, nuzzled her ankles. Her eyes darkened with a fierce glare aimed at the wagging dog.

….

“Alexis, I’ve come to bring you home.”

“Dad, Mom, some urgent matters at work kept me these past few days. I’m only just free now. Alexis isn’t upset, is she?” Holden appeared with a bouquet of yellow roses, and his apology was sincere.

“Alexis got hurt recently. Take good care of her when you return.”

I stepped out slowly. Holden noticed the injury on my hand and gently took it in his, his eyes glistening with a sudden redness.

“It’s my fault. I should have come for you sooner. Don’t worry, Dad, Mom, I’ll take good care of Alexis.”

Looking at him, I found his expression unreadable. If it weren’t for the photos and videos Claire had sent the other day, I might have truly believed in his concern.

At home, my injured hand made things difficult, so Holden circled around to open the car door for me. Just then, we bumped into our new neighbor, Grandma Selma, who softly commented, “What a kind young man.”

I smiled at her words. Holden turned toward us and spoke boldly, “Of course! She’s my wife. If I don’t treat her well, then who will?” With that, he took my hand and led me inside.

Claire had already laid out a table brimming with food at home, claiming it was to help me recover. She brought over a large pot of sweet soup, but I noticed peanuts settled at the bottom, something I never ate.

“No thanks, I don’t like peanuts.” I waved her off gently. Claire’s hand trembled slightly as she gripped the ladle, her lips pouting in silent grievance.

Holden urged me softly, “It’s just a bowl of soup. Claire spent all morning making it. What’s the harm in trying a little?”

“Claire, serve her a bowl.”

At his command, Claire hurriedly poured a bowl but “accidentally” spilled the hot soup onto me. I reflexively raised my hand to block it, only to feel the scorching heat sear my skin. A sharp cry escaped me.

The sweet soup splattered across my hand and thigh, leaving red, angry burns. I dashed to the bathroom to rinse away the sting.

“Brother Holden, Alexis doesn’t like me. She refused the soup I made, and now it’s all wasted…” Claire’s syrupy voice barely reached me. I had no strength left to care.

Holden hurried to soothe her. “It’s okay. When she comes out, I’ll make sure she drinks it myself.”

After patching up my burns as best he could, the pain in my hand flared sharply. I pushed open the bathroom door, ready to rush to the hospital.

“Let me go. I have to get to the hospital.”

“No need to rush. Eat first. Claire made this with care.”

Holden forced me down at the table. When I resisted, his patience snapped, and he poured half a bowl of sweet soup into my mouth.

The peanuts triggered my allergy instantly. My skin began itching wildly. I struggled free, desperate to escape to the hospital.

“Brody,” Claire said softly.

I froze, confusion swirling inside me. Brody hadn’t been around for days. I called his name over and over, desperate for him to come with me to the hospital, but there was only silence.

Turning to Claire, I asked, “Where’s Brody? Didn’t you just call him?”

Claire remained calm, her eyes flickering down to the steaming bowl of braised meat on the table.

“There, right there.”

“I wanted Alexis to eat before we left. I read somewhere that adult female dogs have the best flavor.”

“I tasted it first. It wasn’t bad. Brother Holden, you should try some, too.”

Her words hit me like a thunderbolt. My limbs went weak, my face drained of color, and fury blazed in my wide eyes as I stared at her.

“You… you did that to Brody?”

“Yes. It kept pouncing on me, and Holden is allergic to dog fur. Besides, we have a baby now. I just couldn’t feel at ease.”

I had always considered Brody to be part of the family. Yet Claire had killed him and even served me a dish made from him after I returned. Fury clouded my vision as I summoned all my strength to storm toward Claire.

Sensing the threat, Holden quickly stepped in, shielding her. “Alexis, calm down. Claire did it for our sake. It’s just a dog. If you want, I’ll buy you ten more.”

But his words didn’t reach me. I raised my hand to slap Claire, only for Holden to block it. His face darkened instantly, and with a harsh shove, he sent me sprawling to the floor. He grabbed the braised meat and tried to force it into my mouth.

My lips quivered, but I refused to swallow. Breaking free, I spat the meat out. The earlier sweet soup had already unsettled my stomach, and I began to vomit bile.

Holden tried to insist, but Claire clung to his arm. “Forget it. Maybe she won’t eat it because I made it. There’s nothing we can do.”

I struggled to my feet, clutching my bleeding right hand, the pain sharp and relentless. Determined, I was ready to go to the hospital for a proper checkup.

“No worries. If she won’t eat it, we will.”

Holden’s careless voice echoed behind me, a cold blade twisting deep into my back.

Just as I reached the door, I collided with Cole Morgan, Dad’s personal assistant, holding the cooperation agreement I’d forgotten here last time.

The peanuts had swollen my airway, choking me, and before I could catch my breath, I collapsed onto the floor, gasping for air.

“You’re awake, Alexis.” I barely lifted my head and saw Cole watching me with worried eyes.

“Are you alright? You fainted just as I got to your house.”

“I already called President Brooks. He’ll be here soon.”

I said nothing, tears stinging the corners of my eyes. I had believed Holden had changed, that he was the man he used to be. But forcing me to drink that sweet soup, knowing I was allergic, all for Claire’s sake. And Brody was gone without a flicker of concern from him.

Hope shattered like glass inside me. Five years of love reduced to a bitter joke. Hot tears spilled freely down my cheeks.

“Alexis, are you okay?” Dad hurried in, breathless.

“I want to go home.” I clung to him, my body trembling, and he rubbed my back gently, trying to soothe me.

“Was it that bastard Holden?”

“Hmm.”

“I knew it. I always knew there was something off about him…”

My father urged me to rest for the night and promised to take me home the next day.

But I tossed and turned endlessly, sleep eluding me like a fading shadow. Quietly, I slipped away, determined to reclaim what was mine. Outside, the car was gone. Holden had already left for the company. Only Claire and her child lingered in the house.

Though my hatred for Claire burned deep, I had no wish to confront her now. I tiptoed upstairs, carefully gathering my things.

I left behind every piece of clothing and jewelry Holden had ever given me. All I took were my personal belongings and a worn iron box filled with the love letters I had written to him, words heavy with heartbreak.

From beneath the guest room bed, I drew out a delicate diamond box. Inside lay the ashes of my son, Nolan. Holden never knew Nolan was gone. He still believed the boy was staying with relatives, just like before.

I placed Nolan’s ashes in the center of the room beside the report from my failed suicide attempt, the one that revealed the miscarriage. Having lost all faith in Holden, I no longer felt the need to hide the painful truth.

Silently, I gathered my belongings and slipped away. Unexpectedly, Claire stirred awake and quietly crept upstairs.

She snatched up the miscarriage report, her eyes scanning the harsh words. Suddenly, the lights flicked on. Holden had returned. Claire hastily concealed the paper in her palm and feigned sleepwalking, staggering drowsily toward the door.

When Holden went to grab clothes and freshen up, the small box on the table caught his eye. He stepped closer, frozen in place, and then his vision blurred as he briefly blacked out.

On the box lay a photo from the day before Nolan’s birthday, taken at a photo studio. Holden stared in disbelief, unable to accept that inside were his son’s ashes. He fumbled for his phone and called me repeatedly, but every call went unanswered.

A heavy wave of helplessness washed over him. “What’s happening? Nolan should still be with relatives for summer break, just like before. How could this be?” Panic gripped his heart.

Desperately, Holden reached out to everyone who might know where I was, but silence met him at every turn. His anxiety deepened.

His eyes scanned the house. My personal belongings were all gone. He fought to control his rising panic. “No, she wouldn’t ignore me. She never has.”

Unable to sit still, Holden grabbed the keys and drove into the night, whispering through clenched teeth, “Alexis, where are you? I’m sorry for what happened today. I was too rash.”

He sent a voice message, but silence answered him once again.

Driven by hope, Holden drove to my parents’ old house, searching for any sign of me. He knocked on the door for nearly half an hour, but no one came.

Just as he was about to give up, he noticed the lights glowing inside. He waited patiently, but still no response came. After being repeatedly turned away, he sighed deeply and left.

Defeated and weary, he turned away, and then suddenly, a spark flickered in his eyes. He rushed to the seaside, that stretch of blue where we had shared our first date.

That place had always been my secret refuge whenever sorrow weighed on me. Holden knew this well. But even there, he searched every corner and still couldn’t find me.

“Alexis, where are you?”

Panting heavily, Holden felt as if a knife pierced his chest. His eyes blurred with unshed tears, and the cold sea breeze only deepened the chill inside him.

He traced every place we had ever been, the theme park, the karaoke bar, the aquarium, but all his efforts were in vain.

Dejected, he returned home to an unusual silence in the early morning. When he flipped on the lights, Claire was nowhere to be found.

Following a faint rustle, he found her in the backyard. To his horror, she was clutching the urn, poised to pour the ashes down the drain.

“Claire, what are you doing?!”