Chapter 2

"Mrs. Vanderbilt, you need at least six weeks of recovery time after your surgery. You lost too much blood—any impact could cause bleeding." The doctor handed me the discharge papers.

At the hospital entrance, I waited for two hours. Alex never came.

Finally, I dragged my aching body back to the mansion alone. This place used to be our home; now it felt like a prison.

I pushed open the master bedroom door and found all my personal belongings were gone.

Replaced by Chloe's things.

"Oh, you're back?" Clara's voice came from behind me.

I clenched my hands into fists. "Where are my things?"

She chuckled lightly. "Oh, those old things were such an eyesore, so I helped clean them up."

"By the way, there's also the nursery. Alexander said from now on, that room will be our baby's playroom. Those worn-out things should have been burned anyway."

Hearing this, I rushed out of the bedroom and ran toward the nursery at the end of the hallway.

The nursery was completely empty. Everything I had prepared for my unborn child was gone.

A small fire burned in the center of the room.

The flames were consuming the stuffed animals I had sewn stitch by stitch during my pregnancy—a little bear with a small "E" embroidered on its chest, representing Ethan, the name I had chosen for our child.

I knelt before the fire pile, trembling as I pulled out the charred remains of that little bear.

This was the first gift I was giving to my child, carrying all my maternal love and hope—now turned to ash.

"Alexander said keeping those things would only make you more miserable." Chloe stood in the doorway, speaking carelessly. "I was helping you."

Rage exploded instantly. I lost my mind, lunging at her and grabbing her shoulders.

"You monster—!"

But she didn't struggle. Instead, she deliberately fell backward, letting out an exaggerated scream: "Ah—! My belly! Alexander—save our child—!"

Then Alex walked downstairs, his face dark. "What happened?"

"Alex," Chloe immediately ran to him, "Evelyn threatened to hurt me and the baby. She said since her child is gone, she won't let me safely give birth to this baby."

"I never said those things!" I shouted desperately.

Alex looked at me with disappointment. "Maybe Chloe is right, you need psychological treatment."

As soon as he finished speaking, two bodyguards entered the room and grabbed me.

"I don't need treatment! She's lying!" I screamed.

Chloe sobbed, "I'm scared. Please don't let her near me. What if she hurts the baby next time?"

Now Alex no longer listened to my explanations, signaling the bodyguards to take me away.

"Alex, please—" I begged. "You're sending your wife away because of her?"

He didn't answer. He just turned and left, his hand protectively around Chloe's waist, as if I were the danger.

The guards took me to the hospital, and the next seven days became the darkest nightmare of my life.

They injected me with unknown drugs, forcing me to undergo various "treatments." Electric shocks, ice water baths, force-feeding disgusting medications.

On the fifth night, I overheard the nurses talking when they thought I was asleep.

"Miss Lancaster's instructions were very clear—don't leave obvious marks."

"She's paying quite a lot of money. What did this woman do to make her hate her so much?"

At that moment I understood—this wasn't treatment, this was torture that Chloe had arranged for me.

A week later, when Alex came to pick me up, I was already emaciated. My hair was disheveled, my eyes hollow, and I needed to lean against walls to walk.

"My God," he was stunned when he saw my condition, "How could you be... so thin? It's only been a week."

"The treatment was very effective," the nurse explained somewhat frantically, "she's much calmer now."

Alex didn't respond, but I saw a flash of doubt in his eyes.

When we reached the front door, Alex was about to help me out of the car when suddenly a figure stumbled out.

It was Chloe.

Her clothes were torn, her hair disheveled, with scratches on her face, and the sleeves of her maternity dress completely ripped off. She limped toward us.

"Alex!" She cried as she threw herself at Alex, "Thank God you're back!"

"My God, Chloe!" Alex immediately embraced her, "What happened? Who did this to you?"

Chloe sobbed, pointing at me with trembling fingers. "It was her! She sent people!"

"What?!" Alex whipped around to face me, his eyes burning with fury.

"I've been with you the whole time!" I said in shock, "How could I possibly—"

Chloe cried even harder, "Just now two men broke into the house, they said Evelyn sent them, said they'd teach me a lesson... They tore my clothes, assaulted me, and said if I don't leave you, next time will be worse..."

"I didn't! I swear I never did any of this!" I shouted.

Alex's face turned iron-gray. "Are you insane? You actually sent people to assault a pregnant woman?"

I grabbed his arm, "Believe me, I could never arrange such things!"

"Enough! I can't let you hurt her anymore."

With that, he dragged me toward the basement.

"Alex, please!" I cried and begged, "You have to believe me! I'm your wife!"

"My wife would never do such vicious things!" he said coldly, then pushed me into the basement.

Three days later, the basement door opened again.

Alex gasped when he saw me.

I was skin and bones, my lips cracked, my eye sockets deeply sunken. I was curled up in the corner, looking like a living corpse.

A flash of shock crossed his eyes, then a kind of softness I hadn't seen in a long time.

"Evelyn..." his voice trembled slightly.

I used all my remaining strength to lift my head and look at him.

He crouched down, reaching out as if to touch me, but stopped mid-air. I saw the complex emotions in his eyes, as if in that instant, the Alex who once loved me had returned.

But soon, his expression became cold again.

"This is what you get for doing that to Chloe. If you promise never to hurt Chloe again, all of this can end."

I looked at this man who once promised to protect me forever, and the last fantasy in my heart completely shattered.

"No." My voice was so hoarse it was barely audible.

He stood up, took one last look at me, then turned and left.

The moment the door closed again, I sent a message to my lawyer: "Prepare the equity transfer agreement."

"Alex Vanderbilt," a bitter smile appeared at the corner of my mouth, "consider this the blood debt you owe me and my dead child."