"Sweetheart, shouldn’t I be going with you to your next check-up?" Charles asked, a rare softness in his voice. It had only been two weeks since he found out she was pregnant, and during that ti, their relationship had remained tense. Only now did it strike him—he had missed the most crucial part. Her health, and the baby’s condition, should have been his first priority.
Janet smiled, her voice delicate and coaxing. "Then... how about this? I’ll go shopping first, and et you at the office afterward. We can go to the hospital together, just the two of us."
Her tone was gentle, almost demure. She sounded exactly like the Janet he used to know—the one who had once leaned on him with quiet trust. Charles couldn’t bring himself to say no. Sothing in his gut warned him that sothing was off, but this version of Janet—thoughtful, sweet, obedient—was the one he had been longing for.
"All right. I’ll have the driver take you." He tightened his arm around her waist, frowning slightly at how slender she still was. "You’re still so thin even though you’re pregnant... I can’t tell whether the baby’s going to look like you or ."
His gaze swept across her face, still filled with worry. At least she didn’t look as pale as before. That alone allowed him to breathe a little easier.
Ever since he learned about the pregnancy, Charles had been constantly on edge, always needing to be reassured that she was safe. Every day, soone from the house would report her condition and activities to him. Only then could he focus on work, knowing she was secure at ho.
"I hope it’s a girl," Janet said softly, placing her hand over his. Together, they rested their palms on the slight curve of her belly. "Don’t you want that too, Charles?"
She hoped for a daughter—soone who could stay by his side if she couldn’t. Soone to keep him from breaking if one day... she disappeared from his life.
"A daughter who looks like you?" Charles chuckled, pulling her fully into his arms. "Boy or girl—I’ll love our child no matter what."
She smiled faintly, her expression glowing with quiet hope. Charles couldn’t resist lowering his head to kiss her lips, soft and delicate like spring blossoms.
"All right, go to work now," she murmured, gently pushing him away.
She knew him too well. Charles was nothing if not disciplined—never late, never careless, even as the head of the company. He had built his world on routine, on predictability.
"Then let’s et for lunch. Tell what you feel like eating—I’ll book the best place." He was reluctant to let her go. This mont of closeness felt too rare, too precious. If he had known this would be their final embrace, perhaps he never would’ve let her go. Perhaps he would’ve seen through it all.
"Hmm... the baby says she wants a feast," Janet replied with playful innocence, her eyes twinkling as she acted like a spoiled little girl. The sight lted his heart.
Charles pinched her cheek affectionately. "All right. Then Daddy will take Baby out for a French feast today."
He wanted to give them everything. The best food, the best love, the best life.
Before leaving, he crouched down and placed a soft kiss on her belly. With a smile brimming with happiness, he finally stepped out the door.
But the mont he left, Janet’s tears fell uncontrollably.
What began as soft sobs soon swelled into trembling cries. She could no longer suppress the grief that had rooted deep in her heart. From the windowsill, she watched the familiar Bugatti disappear into the distance, and slowly, her gaze turned blank and lifeless.
In the end, she could not escape the cruelty of fate.
The driver dropped Janet off in front of a high-end baby boutique. She had already made up her mind before stepping out of the car—this might be the last ti she ever walked away from that house.
Inside the boutique, the shelves were lined with exquisite baby cribs and infant clothing. Janet wandered through the displays, her slender fingers brushing over tiny onesies in pastel hues. Her eyes welled with tears as she gazed at the delicate garnts.
Would she ever get to see her baby wear any of these?
"Miss, is there anything I can help you with?" a shop assistant approached gently, noticing the faraway look in Janet’s eyes.
Janet’s sharp eyes darted toward the window. Outside, a pair of cold, watchful eyes kept surveillance on her. Charles had sent soone—of course he had. A new idea flickered in her mind. She picked up a few pink baby outfits with casual grace, added a handful of premium maternity clothes, and checked out with her card.
As she stepped out, the driver imdiately took the shopping bags from her hands. Only then did she notice the black sports car idling behind theirs—the sa one she had seen stationed outside the villa. Charles had even sent his bodyguards to tail her.
He was protecting her with a thoroughness that caught her off guard. Her original plan to shake off the driver vanished like smoke.
"Madam, Boss called just now. He said to take you straight to Black Rock Co. after you finish shopping. Please get in," the driver said respectfully, holding open the rear door in his crisp black suit.
"Can I speak to him myself? Give the phone." Janet’s voice was urgent. She glanced around at the traffic, trying to buy herself ti. So many eyes on her—was Charles really that afraid of sothing happening to her?
The man didn’t protest. He simply handed her the phone without a word.
There was only one number saved in the phone—Charles’s. How loyal, Janet thought bitterly. The line picked up almost imdiately.
"She’s with you already? Where’s Janet?" ca Charles’s voice, curt and authoritative as always. He clearly thought the driver was calling.
"It’s , Charles," she said, one hand still gripping the edge of the door, but not climbing in. The driver stood motionless in front of her, clearly unwilling to move until she was seated.
"Oh? You’ve finished shopping? Co to the company now. We’ll go to the hospital after lunch." His voice left no room for argunt.
"Charles... maybe we don’t need to go to the hospital. The baby’s been very well-behaved, and I feel fine. Really." Her voice was soft, coaxing, almost pleading.
She was terrified of hearing that word—"hospital." If she couldn’t escape today, if she ended up in that examination room, would she still be able to hide the truth from him?
Because once he found out... he would be the one in the most pain.
The truth was rciless: only one of them could be saved—her or the baby. And this choice... had to be hers alone.
"No. We’re going. Give him back the phone," Charles said sharply, his voice now edged with anger. There would be no discussion.
Janet sighed and returned the phone. The driver answered in a low, respectful tone. "Yes, Boss. Understood."
Then he turned to Janet with a stone-cold expression and gestured firmly. "Madam, please get in."
Left with no choice, Janet climbed back into the plush back seat. Her eyes drifted once more to the rearview mirror, but Manfred’s familiar Ferrari was still nowhere in sight.
Earlier, she had secretly asked the store clerk to call him. She didn’t know if he’d gotten the ssage. All she could do now was hope—hope against hope that he would co for her.
But hope could be cruel. No one showed up.
Janet sank deeper into the leather seat, heart heavy. A quiet sadness crept over her. If she couldn’t run, then maybe she would just stay. Stay with Charles and face it all together. If these were to be her final days, at least she would spend them by his side—with no regrets.
But knowing his nature... once he found out about her condition, there was no way he would allow the child to survive. And yet he had been so desperate to et their baby. That contradiction, that pain, that impossible choice—she would be the one to drag him into that hell.
Before she could finish her thoughts, the car suddenly jolted to a stop.
Janet scread, her body lurching forward. Sothing felt off—an unsettling shift in the air.
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