My Lover’s Betrayal with His Niece Made Me Disappear Forever

"Uncle, please don’t get married, okay?"

"I am adopted, we have no blood relation. I can still give you a baby..."

"Hmm..." The man’s low voice echoed in the room.

Then came the unmistakable sounds of pleasure, weaving together in betrayal.

The man who swore he loved me was now indulging in the filthiest act with his socalled niece.

I collapsed to the floor, my hands covering my face as if that could block out the unbearable pain slicing through my chest. My heart felt like it was being carved apart, piece by piece.

I wanted to believe I had seen wrong, that my eyes had deceived me.

But no matter how much I wished otherwise, I would recognize that man even if he turned to ashes.

The naked figure on the screen was my fiancé—the one who once called me his everything.

The seductive, sickening sounds drilled into my brain, making me tremble in despair.

Then, a cold, mechanical voice suddenly rang out:

"Host, this novel follows a controversial forbidden love plot. The male protagonist must adhere to the predetermined story. Do you choose to forgive? If you do, a future of happiness awaits. If not, you will disappear—and perhaps even meet a tragic end—in ten days."

Ten days later, I truly disappeared.

And Marcus went insane.

——

On the giant screen at the city’s downtown plaza, an interview played:

"Mr. Rivers, I heard you love your fiancée deeply. That she is your salvation, your first love."

Marcus' handsome face softened into a gentle smile. "Yes, all my desires—for life, for love—stem from her."

The host smiled warmly. "You’ve been together for eight years. When you proposed, you gave her a fleet of cars filled with engagement gifts and even bought the world’s most expensive pink diamond. You treat Miss Hayes like royalty. Fans call you the ‘Perfect Husband’..."

Online comments flooded the screen:

"Oh my god, the way he talks about her—he’s so devoted!"

"I’d trade ten years of my life to meet a man this loyal!"

"I bet Miss Hayes won’t even be able to get out of bed after marriage! Hahaha, he’s too good..."

Blessings and envy filled the air.

I lowered my gaze, forcing a bitter smile.

As I passed by a trash bin, I tossed in the diamond ring I had once cherished.

That evening, Marcus came home carrying a small, delicate cake from the bakery at the east side of the city—my favorite.

It always took at least an hour in line to buy one.

"Lila, I got your favorite strawberry cake today."

He smiled, setting it on the table before taking my hand and gently pulling me to sit beside him.

Every day, I received little surprises—roses, cakes, necklaces, cosmetics.

Marcus always found ways to make me smile.

"Try it quickly," he urged, scooping a piece of cake topped with strawberries and holding it to my lips. "I stood in line for two hours just to get this. I knew my little greedy cat would want a bite."

Mechanically, I opened my mouth.

But my gaze drifted to his collar—where a glaring red mark stood out against the crisp white fabric.

So intense. He must have enjoyed his forbidden love.

Niece versus uncle. The kind of scandal that novel readers would obsess over.

"Lila," he continued, his tone gentle, almost coaxing. "I was supposed to come home after three days, but something urgent came up at the company. I had to stay another two. I'm sorry, baby."

I turned my head away, my voice calm, indifferent. "It’s fine. You don’t have to explain your business trips to me anymore. Whether you come back or not—it doesn’t matter to me."

Because in ten days, I would be gone.

Gone from this house.

Gone from his life.

Whatever happened to him after that was none of my concern.

In the past, when he brought me gifts like this, I would have given him a sweet kiss in return.

But today, I didn’t.

And for the first time, he looked at me with a trace of dull confusion—like he couldn’t understand what had changed.

Marcus' heart clenched with unease.

He knew I had always been clingy, always longing for his presence. I must be upset, he thought—angry that he hadn’t been by my side these past few days.

"Lila, I'm sorry," he said, his voice soft, coaxing. "Please don’t be mad at me, okay? I swear I’ll never do this again. I’ve been working nonstop just so I could come back to you as soon as possible."

He smiled as he apologized, as if my unhappiness was a burden on his conscience.

Love?

Love.

At least, I had truly loved him once.

I still remember that night. A rainstorm poured over the city, and Marcus had come to pick me up from work. Out of nowhere, a car lost control and came hurtling toward us. In that split second, I thought I was going to die.

But before I lost consciousness, I saw him let go of the steering wheel—choosing to wrap his arms around me instead.

He shielded me with his body.

I walked away with nothing but a few scratches. He spent three days in a coma.

The man standing in front of me had once risked his life for me.

But so what?

Feelings shift in an instant. Love is a long, grueling battle. When you love someone, you would die for them. When you don’t, there’s nothing left—not even a shred of sincerity.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips.

If I weren’t set to leave in ten days, I wouldn’t even bother playing this game with him.

Looking at that affectionate yet hypocritical face, I forced a smile.

"Marc, you’re overthinking. I’m really not angry," I said lightly. "Tell me, which woman in this city wouldn’t envy me? When you proposed, fireworks lit up the entire skyline for three days. And at our restaurant, anyone who wished us well got a free meal, all at your expense."

Marcus' lips curled into a gentle smile. "Lila, I love you more than I love myself. Even if you wanted my life, I would give it to you."

He was still the same as before—putting on a show, making sure that no matter the setting, no matter the audience, his love for me appeared unwavering.

Just as he was about to lean in and pull me into his arms, I shoved him away, disgust curling in my stomach.

"I want to eat cake," I said flatly.

Marcus chuckled and playfully tapped my nose. "Don’t eat too much. I’m taking you to my mother’s house later."

"I already bought the gifts for you."

Every time we visited his mother, Marcus—the everfilial son—would bring a pile of gifts and then tell her they were from me, her future daughterinlaw.

His mother neither liked nor disliked me. To her, whoever married her son would be family, as long as she could provide grandchildren.

She lived in the suburbs, in a farmhouse Marcus had bought for his parents. The elderly couple preferred a quiet life in the mountains, tending to their vegetable garden and raising chickens in the spacious yard.

As soon as our car stopped, Vivian came bounding toward Marcus like an excited bird, throwing herself into his arms.

"Uncle, I missed you!" she whined, wrapping her arms around his waist, her voice dripping with sweetness.

The old lady beamed. "This girl is still as attached to her uncle as she was when she was little."

Marcus' face darkened. Annoyed, he pried her hands off him. "You’re not a child anymore. Move."

Vivian’s eyes filled with unshed tears, her lips trembling in a pitiful pout.

"Uncle, you’ve changed," she sniffled. "You used to love me so much! When that fat kid next door bullied me, you beat him up for me. You promised you’d always take care of me! But now… now that you have her, you don’t love me anymore?"

She shot me a resentful glare.

Marcus' expression turned cold in an instant. "Vivian, if you keep this up, I’ll have someone send you back to the mountains!"

"Apologize to your aunt!"

I stood there with my arms crossed, watching their ridiculous performance.

These two, who had already crossed every line of intimacy, were now pretending to be innocent in front of me.

Vivian, seeing Marcus' anger, bit her lip and whispered pitifully, "Aunt, I’m sorry."

I had no patience for their theatrics. Without a word, I turned and walked straight into the yard.

It was almost time.

Soon, I wouldn’t have to sit through this nauseating display of their twisted relationship.

At the dinner table, the old lady brought up the same topic as always—children.

"Lila, you're getting married soon. When do you plan to have children? When I was your age, Marcus' sister was already old enough to follow me to the fields."

Marcus' sister—Vivian’s mother.

I had heard the story before. After her parents passed away, Vivian moved in with her grandmother, living under the same roof as Marcus. He was eight years older, and with the old couple busy working all day, the responsibility of looking after her mostly fell on him.

Then he left for university, started a business, and barely returned home over the years.

The first reason was time.

The second—poverty.

He was so broke he couldn’t even afford the trip home.

When I first met him, he had just failed his first business venture. He was sleeping under a bridge, rummaging through trash for food.

All he had was a tattered black computer bag with an old, battered laptop inside.

That laptop held all his dreams.

He was the classic protagonist of this world—the selfmade man from humble beginnings.

Then, a soft voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Grandma, she’s not the only one who can give Uncle a baby," Vivian whispered, her gaze flickering toward Marcus before quickly looking away.

I snapped back to reality, silently sipping my chicken soup. The chickens I raised myself—so even the broth tasted richer than anything outside.

Marcus' brows furrowed at her words. "My child will only be born by Lila."

Then, turning to his mother, he added, "Mom, stop pressuring Lila. We’re already planning for a baby. Maybe she’s already pregnant."

The old lady beamed with joy.

She eagerly ladled me another bowl of soup. "Lila, drink more! You’ll need the strength to give me a big, healthy grandson."

"Don’t worry about the wedding. Leave everything to Marcus. You just focus on resting and being a beautiful bride."

She was practically glowing, as if I were already pregnant.

What a joke.

"Grandma, I’ll go help at Uncle’s house!" Vivian chirped, her tone far too eager.

Ever since she moved to the city, she had been itching to live in our house.

"What can a child like you possibly help with?" The old lady muttered, debating whether to let her go.

Vivian pouted. "I’m not a child! I’ll be nineteen soon. I know how to pick a wedding dress, decorate the venue, even prepare a wedding speech—I’ve studied it all!"

Her eyes sparkled with excitement, as if she were the one getting married.

The old lady was so overjoyed she could barely keep her mouth shut.

"Alright, after your uncle gets married, it’s time for you to start thinking about love too. The old lady from next door has her eye on you—she wants to set you up with her grandson."

"Grandma, I already have someone I like," Vivian murmured, sneaking a shy glance at Marcus—so obvious she nearly said his name outright.

I nearly choked on my chicken soup.

Disgusting.

Marcus quickly handed me a glass of warm water, gently patting my back. "Lila, are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

The old couple exchanged glances.

The old man, grinning ear to ear, took a big sip of wine.

They had been dreaming of a grandson for so long—how could they not be ecstatic?

The old lady smacked the old man’s arm with a scolding tone. "Drink less! You’ll be a grandfather soon."

At that, the old man quickly put down his glass. He had to quit drinking. He had to live long enough to meet his grandson.

Vivian suddenly muttered, "The chicken soup is too oily. I feel a little sick too."

No one responded.

No one cared.

The old lady, still buzzing with excitement, rushed to the kitchen and came back with a plate of freshly sliced lemons.

"Lila, eat something sour," she urged, her voice filled with old wives' wisdom. "Sour means a boy, spicy means a girl!"

Marcus, knowing full well that I hated lemons, gently pushed the plate aside.

"Mom, don’t worry," he said softly. "I’ll take good care of Lila."

"Alright, let Vivian stay at your house. The girl is sharp."

As soon as Vivian heard she could stay at my place, she rushed to grab a suitcase from the house, clearly prepared for this moment.

Marcus pressed his fingers to his temples in frustration. "You’re not going."

Vivian turned to me with pleading eyes. "Aunt, please? I’ll stay at your place for a few days and take care of you... and Uncle."

Take care of him? Sure, in every way possible.

I sighed and opened the copilot door. "Do whatever you want."

Vivian beamed and climbed into the back seat.

She really didn’t see herself as an outsider. After a while, she came out of the bathroom in a bikini, strolling casually through the living room.

When Marcus came out of his study, she was dancing to music on her phone.

His body stiffened, and the barelycontained desire in his eyes was unmistakable.

When he turned to look at me, he quickly masked his expression, but it was too late—I had already seen it.

I fanned the air, trying to cool the heat rising in my face. "You’re pathetic."

"Go back to your room." Marcus' voice was sharp now, his temper flaring.

Vivian pouted, the picture of innocence. "Uncle, I have to practice dancing every day..."

"Hmm, like a cat in heat."

Vivian blinked, the perfect image of confusion. "Who are you talking about? My uncle raised me. If you think dirty, that’s on you."

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she looked at him, playing the victim like she always did.

The sad part? She was definitely more alluring to men now than she ever had been when she lived in the mountains.

Marcus' face hardened. "Enough."

"If I see you dressed like that in this house again, you’re out."

Vivian ran off in tears, leaving the tension thick in the air.

Marcus sighed deeply, his gaze softening as he turned to me. "Lila, don’t argue with a child. Maybe you’re carrying our baby. Don’t be upset, okay?"

He placed a large hand gently on my stomach, a gesture meant to comfort.

I smiled, but it didn’t reach my eyes. "No, not today. I got my period."

Marcus' shoulders slumped, disappointment flashing across his face. "I’ll try harder. I’ll make sure you become a mother sooner."

I couldn’t help but feel a cold emptiness at his words. No, Marcus. No.

Nine days. That’s all I had left. How could I possibly give birth to his child?

I woke up in the middle of the night, my throat dry with thirst. As I reached for the bedside, I realized he wasn’t beside me.

Marcus often worked late, choosing to sleep in the study to avoid disturbing my rest.

I grabbed my water cup and quietly made my way downstairs.

The moonlight filtered through the windows, casting everything in a soft, serene glow.

As I descended the stairs, a creaking sound reached my ears, coming from the study.

Since I’d gotten the cat, there had been no mice in the house.

I paused, taking a slow breath, and quietly made my way toward the source of the sound.

The door to the study room was slightly ajar, warm, yelloworange light spilling out from the crack.

I approached, drawn by some invisible force, and peeked inside.

What I saw made my breath catch in my throat.

Two bodies were tangled together on the desk, their forms barely distinguishable against the dark wood.

Vivian’s slender body was a sharp contrast to the desk. She bit her lips, her face flushed with passion, her long nails digging into Marcus' back.

"Stop," he murmured, his voice low, but his body didn’t stop moving.

Vivian buried her head in his neck, her voice thick with tears and something darker. "Uncle Marcus, I am your legitimate little wife..."

"Shut up. Don’t wake her up," Marcus growled, his words a mix of command and desperation.

Marcus.

You deceived me.

Eight years ago, I came into this world, depending on him for everything.

Marcus fought for me. He took a brick to the head to protect me. He would cancel important meetings just to celebrate my birthday. He remembered every little detail—my preferences, my moods, even my menstrual cycle.

The office staff used to joke that the president was a lovestruck fool.

I had come here for a reason, to save him. To help the poor boy become the king of this world.

My mission was completed five years ago. But for him, I chose to stay in this world.

It turns out that all of it was a lie. The love he claimed to have for me? Fake. Even deep love can be nothing more than an act.

In the study, the two of them were entangled, oblivious to everything around them.

My heart felt like it was being shredded into pieces. The pain was unbearable, so intense that I could hardly breathe.

I don’t even know how I made it back to the bedroom.

It was almost over.

Just a little longer.

I would leave him soon.

And from that moment on, everything about him would cease to matter to me.

The next morning, the smell of breakfast wafted through the house.

Marcus had gotten up early to make breakfast.

"Baby caught a cold last night..." Vivian’s voice was raspy, like she had been crying for hours.

I stopped at the corner of the stairs. "Baby? Who’s Baby?"

Both of them turned to look at me.

Marcus was quick to recover, his voice steady. "No, it’s just a nickname for children. Vivian was talking about her best friend."

He hurried over, pulling out a stool for me with a forced cheerfulness. "Good girl, I made your favorite steamed buns today. Try it."

He took my hand and sat me down, serving me soup. His movements were careful, as though he feared the soup might burn me. He picked up a small spoon, feeding me bite by bite.

"Good girl," he said softly. "I know you’re on your period. I made this hot soup just for you. After breakfast, we’ll go try on wedding dresses."

He wore an apron, his sharp jawline and defined features adding to his charm. He looked at me with so much tenderness, it almost hurt.

Good man. Good husband. That’s what everyone thought of him.

Later, at the bridal shop, as the Maybach rolled to a stop, the clerks rushed to greet us.

"Miss Lila, you look stunning in this dress, like a fairy descending from the heavens. Mr. Rivers truly adores you—he spent one million to have our chief designer make this just for you."

"Yes, Mr. Rivers is handsome and wealthy. You two will be so happy together after the wedding."

They helped me into the wedding dress, their voices dripping with admiration.

I stared at myself in the mirror, the delicate fabric, the sparkling beads. But all I could feel was emptiness.

Ha.

Marcus Rivers—admired by everyone, loved by all—will soon become nothing more than a joke.

I pulled two invitations from my bag, handing them over with a calm smile.

"Eight days from now, I’ll be marrying Marcus. Please come and have a drink with us."

The two clerks gasped, their excitement palpable. They hugged each other, repeatedly thanking me and wishing me a lifetime of happiness with Marcus.

I stepped out of the fitting room, my heart pounding in my chest.

As I emerged, Marcus, who had been seated on the sofa, froze, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of me.

At that moment, the door to another fitting room opened, and Vivian stepped out, wearing a wedding dress of her own.

Her dress was dangerously lowcut, the kind of design that left nothing to the imagination. As she took a step, her eyes darted toward Marcus, and suddenly, the hem of her gown caught on her foot. She stumbled and fell straight into his arms.

The room went silent. Everyone stared, horrified by the scene unfolding before them.

"Is she crazy? How dare she throw herself into Mr. Rivers' arms?"

"I heard the last woman who did that had her arm removed."

"Mr. Rivers and Miss Lila are so deeply in love. When Mr. Rivers was still struggling, Miss Lila stayed by his side. They’ve been together for eight years. There hasn’t even been a rumor about another woman near him."

Marcus' body stiffened, and he instinctively pushed Vivian away. But she held onto his hand, her grip tight, her face contorted in fake distress.

"My foot... it’s twisted... it hurts so much." Her eyes brimmed with tears, making her look like a helpless little bunny.

Marcus paused, his expression unreadable as everyone in the room watched intently.

He quickly regained his composure, his voice smooth as he explained, "This is my relative."

The whispers started immediately.

"So, she’s Mr. Rivers' relative? No wonder she dares to get so close to him. Other women wouldn’t have the courage."

The two clerks exchanged knowing glances, their voices dropping to a hush.

Marcus looked back at me briefly before speaking again, his tone now soft but authoritative. "Be good, wait here for a moment. I’ll help Vivian to the car and have the driver take her to the hospital."

Marcus pressed a kiss to my forehead before helping Vivian up, guiding her toward the Maybach parked at the door.

My nails dug into my palms, biting down into my flesh as I watched them walk away. I was certain—Marcus would never come back to me.

His expression just now had been one of pure desire, unmistakable and raw.

I had barely taken off my heavy wedding dress when my phone vibrated, a new message alert flashing on the screen.

[We had sex while you were asleep last night. I wonder if you've ever been this happy?]

[Come to the underground parking lot and see for yourself.]

I shut off my phone, my hands trembling.

In the dim, deserted corner of the underground parking lot, I spotted the familiar Maybach, parked off to the side.

This was a quiet, closedoff shopping mall with few cars, and the Maybach was tucked in the far corner. It was hidden, barely noticeable to anyone passing by.

But I could hear it.

The window was slightly cracked, and through it, I could hear the woman's soft sobs mingling with the sound of Marcus' heavy breathing.

This time, there were no signs of hesitation. He was fully in it, unlike last night when he had been too afraid to make a sound, too worried I might catch him.

He never expected I would come here.

I leaned against a pillar, the weight of everything pressing down on me, like a lead ball tied to my feet. I couldn’t move.

"Lighter... a little..."

"Will the little goblin still act like a demon in front of Lila in the future?"

"Are you getting bolder?"

The man’s voice was low, almost mocking, like a fierce tiger toying with its prey.

Vivian’s sobs filled the space, her voice breaking, "I love you so much..."

The contrast between their words was jarring—the innocent little rabbit caught beneath the heavy paw of the tiger.

The rain stopped suddenly, leaving only a fine drizzle. The flowers outside swayed beautifully in the wet air.

Then the storm picked up again, the flowers blooming more fiercely, as if in response to the rising intensity.

He spoke gently, almost coaxing: "Okay, don’t cry. Don’t you want to go to work at the company? How about you become my secretary tomorrow, hmm?"

Vivian’s voice was soft, teasing: "Well… baby wants to go today."

"Okay!!"

A satisfied sigh.

At the company’s beginning, Marcus had sworn to me, his voice firm and sincere: "I’ll never hire a female secretary. There won’t be any woman other than you around me. If I break this oath, may lightning strike me down."

And what had I said?

Oh, I remember.

"If you betray me, I will disappear forever. You’ll never find me, not in this lifetime."

I’d said it calmly, and he had been terrified. His face drained of color, and he had held me close, his lips trembling. "Lila, I love you. I, Marcus Rivers, will never betray you—even if I die."

But what about now?

Not only had he betrayed me physically, but I was beginning to fear that he had also abandoned me in his heart.

Tears fell from my eyes, endless, like beads scattered from a broken string. My teeth clenched, and I bit down hard on my wrist, the sharp pain jolting me into clarity.

The bright red blood flooded my senses, clearing my mind in an instant.

It wasn’t worth it.

What love was there?

In just eight days, I would leave him behind, completely.

The ache in my wrist reminded me that this was the final path. I ran, not looking back toward the Maybach, running farther and farther away from the man who had once been everything to me.

I ran until my legs gave out, and finally, I collapsed by the side of the bridge.

This was the bridge where Marcus and I had first met. The memories flooded in, overwhelming me.

I remembered the summer nights, lying under the bridge with him, staring up at the stars. He would sometimes stay up all night, using a rotting cattail leaf fan to swat away the mosquitoes, making sure I could sleep peacefully.

In the winter, he would run over ten kilometers every day, pushing himself to the limit just so he could return to me, sweatsoaked and exhausted, only to climb into bed and warm my cold sheets.

Those were the days when we had nothing, when we were so poor...

I worked at a small restaurant, and the leftovers I brought home were enough to keep us from going hungry.

Every day, he typed away on the old computer, his fingers tapping the keys with a determination that seemed to burn with hope. He would say to me, "Lila, soon, very soon, we’ll be in a big house, and we’ll be living a happy life."

“When the time comes, we’ll have two kids—our girl will look like you, and the boy will look like me. I’ll love you forever, Lila, and I’ll never change my mind...”

The soft breeze blew through the window, carrying with it the hum of life outside. My phone buzzed, a message notification lighting up the screen.

It was from Vivian.

She sent a picture—used baby bags and torn wedding dresses piled in a corner.

“Auntie, you won’t blame me, right? We didn’t mean to leave you at the bridal shop. It was really that Uncle Marcus was too anxious and had to...”

“Auntie, I think Uncle Marcus should leave you some public grain, don’t you?”

At that moment, Marcus' name flashed on my screen.

I hung up immediately.

But he refused to give up, repeatedly calling back.

With shaking hands, I answered.

"Lila, there’s an emergency at the company, and I might have to work overtime tonight." His voice was just as rehearsed as ever.

I could feel the hollow emptiness of his words.

"Got it," I replied, my voice flat, and hung up.

For the next few days, Marcus didn’t come home.

I took the opportunity to quietly pack up my things. I came with nothing, and I would leave the same way. I couldn’t take anything with me—nor did I want to.

On the third morning, the assistant arrived in a hurry, his face pale with urgency.

"Madam, Mr. Rivers has been working overtime at the company. He suddenly fainted this morning and was rushed to the hospital."

I remained silent, the words barely registering.

Is he really busy working overtime? Or is he busy with someone else?

"Madam," the assistant continued, voice shaky, "before he fainted, the president kept calling your name. Please, come with me."

The car sped down the road, its tires screeching as it cut through the streets. We stopped at the downtown plaza, near the St. Mary’s Hospital.

"Madam, the car broke down. The hospital is close; please walk the rest of the way."

The driver opened the door, bowing respectfully, a silent invitation.

I stepped out, stunned, my heart pounding as I stood in the downtown plaza.

Suddenly, a loud rumble echoed above me.

Snowflakes began to fall from the sky, swirling around me like ghosts of the past, and I felt the cold seep into my bones.

Brookdale has never seen snow.

I used to tell Marcus about the winters in my hometown, how the snow would blanket everything, so pure and beautiful.

"Lila."

The moment I turned around, I saw him.

Marcus, looking perfectly fine—vibrant, full of energy, his health nowhere near the fragile state I had imagined.

He walked toward me, holding a box in his hand, his steps quick.

When he reached me, he slowly opened the box, revealing a set of pigeon blood red diamond necklaces that sparkled in the dim light.

"Lila, do you like it?" he asked, his voice smooth, confident. "I bought this at an auction in Italy. Only you, Lila, can match such a beautiful diamond."

He reached forward and gently draped the necklace around my neck.

Snowflakes began to fall, delicate and slow, landing on our heads as if the world was frozen in time.

He wrapped me in his arms, his face filled with an apologetic softness. "Lila, do you like it? I’ve been so busy with work lately, and I’ve neglected you. I’m sorry."

"If we can stand in the snow together in the future, growing old side by side... I’ll love you forever, Lila. In this life, and the next."

His words should have been comforting, but they felt hollow in my chest.

I took a deep breath, the faint scent of his perfume overwhelming me, and I glanced around.

The crowd around us had gathered, whispering in awe.

"Ahhh, you are so lucky."

"That pigeon blood diamond necklace? It’s worth 600 million! How rich—God, please send me someone like that, I don’t care if he’s old or ugly..."

"Ah, this is Marcus, the new business tycoon, the lovestruck fool. I heard they’re getting married in two days. Why are they still showing off their love?"

"I swear, they’re laying it on thick. So sweet, though!"

Some people in the crowd even pulled out their phones, starting live broadcasts.

But then, my gaze landed on her.

Vivian.

She was standing in the crowd, dressed in a hospital gown, her eyes searching through the throng.

Her face was pale, a strange smile twisting her lips.

When our eyes met, she casually stroked her belly with one hand, flashing me a look full of challenge and provocation.

I lowered my gaze, the noise around me suddenly feeling too overwhelming.

"I want to go home," I whispered, my heart aching. Back to my world, back to my own space, away from all of this.

Marcus was basking in the crowd's praise, a satisfied smile on his face. "Are you tired, darling? Can I go home with you?"

"No need." I pushed him away, the words coming out colder than I intended.

"Lila, why are you always angry lately?"

He softened his gaze, a helpless look in his eyes, as though he didn’t understand what was happening.

Before I could respond, his assistant appeared with an urgent report.

"Mr. Rivers, the company called again. There’s an urgent matter that needs your attention."

"I handle everything. What use are you?" Marcus snapped at the assistant, his voice rising with frustration.

"Go, do your job. Don’t worry about me," I said, my tone calm, detached.

Marcus frowned, that familiar crease appearing between his brows whenever he was uneasy.

"Lila, please, don’t be angry, okay? The company is just so busy right now..."

"No." I smiled faintly, trying to hide the sting in my chest.

"I really want to go home, Marcus."

His expression shifted, panic flickering in his eyes. He rushed toward me, pulling me into a tight hug. "Lila, I’ve also prepared a surprise for you on our wedding day. You said you wanted to grow old with me..."

I stood there in his arms, my hand patting his back almost mechanically, like I was comforting him. "Well, I have a surprise for you too, Marc."

He eventually let me go, but I could feel the tension in the air.

As I turned to leave, I saw Vivian collapse to the ground.

Marcus immediately ran toward her, crouching to pick her up. But as he did, his gaze flickered in my direction, and for a moment, I thought he might come to me.

Instead, he turned his attention back to Vivian and only moved toward the hospital when I had disappeared from his view.

I saw everything clearly from the corner, the pain in my chest like a needle piercing through my heart.

Breathing was hard. Every inhale felt like I was suffocating.

I sat down on a bench by the flower bed in the square, my phone vibrating in my pocket.

It was an ultrasound image.

"I already have Uncle Marcus' child. How could your 600 million deep red ruby necklace compare to the baby growing in my belly? He’ll be the heir of the Rivers Family, the fruit of my love with Uncle Marcus."

Vivian was pregnant?

Yes, how could she not be pregnant after all the times they’ve been together?

Marcus must be thrilled, living out his games, his desires, without any restraint.

Would he abort their child for me?

No, I won’t forgive him.

No matter how deep the love may have seemed, it couldn’t withstand the temptation of the flesh.

What am I still holding on for?

It has nothing to do with me anymore.

Let them do whatever they want.

Yet, despite the coldness in my thoughts, a wave of loss and despair washed over me.

Hot tears slipped down my face, falling onto the back of my hand. I quickly wiped them away, but the emotion refused to stop.

Why am I crying so foolishly? Wasn’t I supposed to let go?

Before I could even finish wiping my face, Vivian’s voice messages came flooding in, each one like a bombshell shattering my composure.

"Well… don’t worry, you’re happy with Vivian, aren’t you?"

"Vivian loves you so much. You love Vivian too, don’t you?"

"You’re fascinated by Vivian’s body, aren’t you?"

"Come on, Vivian has a surprise for you."

I could hear Marcus' labored breathing in the background, the desperate sound of a man lost in his own indulgence.

"Otherwise, Vivian’s surprise will be gone..."

"Yes, I like you. I just want to be with you!" His voice was impatient, filled with a mix of lust and frustration.

And then, Vivian’s voice came again.

"Lila, did you hear everything? Do you still want to marry him?"

"Every time he worked overtime, he was with me. Every time we were together, he said he loved me. Even God seemed to be on my side, letting me get pregnant with his child before you two got married. Why don’t you just quit?"

Vivian’s voice was sharp, relentless, pushing me with every word. "If you quit, he’ll marry me."

I could feel my blood boil, but I stayed calm. "You’re really sick, aren’t you? Aren’t you afraid of giving birth to a deformed child?"

Vivian’s voice dropped, low and dangerous. "I’m not even his biological daughter. I have no blood relation to him."

Her words were venomous, but I didn’t flinch.

"I’ve admired him since I was a child. If it weren’t for you, I’d already be married to him. You’re nothing compared to me. You were just there when he was struggling! You don’t deserve him at all!"

I could hear the excitement in her voice, her smugness practically suffocating the line.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps in the background.

"Uncle Marcus, the baby kicked me. Come, listen."

Marcus' voice roared back, furious. "Are you insane? I promised you to keep the baby and not to show up in front of Lila again! You know the consequences!"

"Uncle Marcus, the baby just misses you... I didn’t see you when I woke up."

I could hear her teasing him, the sound of fabric tearing as she spoke in an almost seductive tone.

"The little white rabbit can't wait for you..."

The air thickened with their lustful exchange.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I sneered bitterly.

Without a second thought, I hung up the phone and dialed 110.

"Hello, is this 110? I need to report someone looking for a lady in the hospital."