Chapter 1

Everyone in the Nasledo social circle knew that Miranda Doyle had a saintly, impossibly devoted husband. Yet during her postpartum period, she received a message from an unknown number which simply read, "Dorian cheated, and I have proof." Those few words felt like a slap in her face. Miranda felt her breath catch in her throat. She instinctively lifted her head and saw Dorian Cannon standing by the bathroom sink, his sleeves rolled up as he washed the pair of pants she had just changed out of, the ones stained with postpartum discharge. The powerful and refined CEO of Cannon Group looked nothing like the man the world knew. He handled the household chores with seemingly practiced ease. And the reason for that was that he could not trust anyone else with her things. She shook her head with a wry smile and simply ignored the message. This was Dorian they were talking about—the man who loved her more than he loved his life. Even if every man in the world cheated, she believed Dorian would never. But three days later, another message appeared on her screen. It read, "If you don't believe me, check the inside pocket of Dorian's coat." The sender wrote as if they were already certain how she would react, and fear coiled around her heart, tightening mercilessly. With hesitant hands, she slowly slid her fingers into the inner pocket and pulled out a neatly folded bundle. The instant she realized what it was, she recoiled as if she had been burned. Mint-scented condoms tumbled to the floor. She recognized the brand immediately. Before her pregnancy, Dorian had used them every night when they were intimate. There were 12 in a pack, and nine were already gone. Miranda felt the blood in her veins turn to ice. That had made no sense. She and Dorian had been childhood sweethearts for over a decade. From the moment they met to falling in love, to getting married—everything had come naturally, and people envied them for it. After the wedding, Dorian treated her like a fragile treasure, handling everything concerning her himself and never letting anyone else interfere. He even stayed by her side throughout the entire childbirth, even though most men avoided such moments. He had cried emotionally in the delivery room with her. Miranda had once believed with absolute certainty that meeting Dorian was the greatest fortune of her life. But when she saw the three condoms lying on the floor, it hit her like a punch to the gut. Her head spun, and the world seemed to fold in on her. Her fingers twitched nervously, clenching and unclenching around nothing. Finally, she tapped on the message and opened up the chat window. That was when the person sent her an address. "If you want the truth, come." Miranda arrived at the location shortly after. It was a private room in an upscale club. Through a crack in the door, she saw Dorian, who had told her he was out closing an important deal. He was kissing Joanna Goodwin, the newly promoted vice CEO, without shame or restraint—so passionately, so forcefully—it was as if he wanted to fuse her into his very being. The kiss dragged on endlessly. When they finally pulled apart, their mutual friends in the room whistled and cheered. One of them laughed and teased, "Dorian, you're really into Joanna. Is she better than Miranda?" Dorian gently smoothed Joanna's rumpled blouse. His voice was soft, but chillingly indifferent. "She doesn't compare to Joanna. "No one could ever compare to Miranda back then. But now, to be honest, I haven't been with her for almost a year." The group exchanged looks. Someone asked with open curiosity, "Dorian, you practically set the whole world ablaze chasing Miranda back then. How could you be over her after only three years?" Dorian was silent for a long moment before speaking again. "It's not that I don't love Miranda. I do. But every time I get close, all I can think about is how ugly she looked during the pregnancy. And that day in the delivery room…" As if recalling it again, Dorian furrowed his brow sharply. "You've never seen it—the way her belly swelled into a grotesque shape, covered in stretch marks, and how she lost control of her bladder and bowels while giving birth... it was disgusting. "I couldn't handle it. I even thought I might never be able to touch her again." With that, he pulled Joanna close again, his eyes softening instantly. "Joanna helped me find myself again. We were intimate on the third day we met. Today is the 28th day, and we've slept together 99 times. She promised me she wouldn't have children." His tone was sweet, yet his words were cruel enough to shatter Miranda's world completely. "She will always be clean and beautiful... Unlike Miranda, who only makes me feel sick." Miranda didn't know how she had left. When she came back to herself, she was kneeling beside the crib, trembling. For the past three generations, the Cannon family has produced only one heir per generation. She hadn't planned to have a child so soon. It had taken three months of Dorian's relentless pleading before she finally agreed. When the pregnancy test came back positive, she felt dazed, but Dorian was nearly in tears with joy, holding her close and kissing her endlessly. "I'm going to be a dad! Miranda, I'm so happy!" His tears had been so real, and the love he showed her and the baby had been so genuine. And yet behind her back, he found her disgusting—too ugly, too revolting—every word was enough to crush Miranda, even though she had become like this because of him. Despite that, Dorian had met Joanna the day he left the delivery room. Three days later, he slept with her. A searing pain ripped through her chest. Trembling, Miranda forced herself to pick up her phone and send a message to the "kind stranger." "It was you, wasn't it, Joanna? Since you want him so badly, Dorian belongs to you now." Dorian had called her ugly. Now, she despised him even more. She didn't want him anymore.