On the way back to Starlight City, I borrowed Ethan''s phone to call Be Gray. Since it was an unfamiliar number, Be took a while to answer.


    While waiting, I tried to stay calm. Protecting my interests was my top priority.


    "Bell, it''s me," I said, trying to keep my emotions in check.


    As soon as she heard my voice, Be sounded worried. "Emmy, where are you? Are you okay? I went to your ce, but you weren''t home. I tried calling, but your phone was off. I''m so worried." Even though I was prepared, hearing her voice made me tear up. "I''m fine, just outside."


    "Are you with Arthur?"


    I didn''t know how to answer.


    "He''s too much. He knows you''re pregnant and still drags you around. I''ll deal with him tomorrow. Don''t worry; I''m here for you," Be said.


    Hearing her mention my child, I could barely hold back my sobs. I quickly hung up.


    Ethan must''ve overheard because he nced at my abdomen and my blood-stained legs, frowning deeply.


    His look made me feel exposed, but he didn''t ask anything. He just adjusted the car''s air conditioning and said, "There''s a nket in the back seat. Want me to pull over and get it for you?" I handed his phone back, too exhausted to talk.


    Ethan lit a cigarette, and the car fell silent.


    I saw headlights from an oing car and instinctively adjusted my seat.N?velDrama.Org: text ? owner.


    Ethan nced at me. "Your husband?"


    "A man who kills his own child doesn''t deserve to be my husband," I snapped.


    "You should''ve told me earlier. I would''ve stopped the car and helped you get revenge," Ethan said tly. "As a man, I''m ashamed of such a bastard."


    I had known for a while that Arthur wasn''t a good person. A few months ago, I started noticing something was off.


    Since I got pregnant, we hadn''t had sex. I thought he was being considerate, showing love and professional ethics as a gynecologist.


    But he always locked the study door, even though it was just us in the house. He was clearly hiding something.


    Following my intuition, I secretly opened the study door one workday.


    The desk was spotless, typical of his OCD.


    Just as I was doubting myself, I found a strand of a woman''s hair on the study bed that wasn''t mine.