I took the subway back to the office, already starving. At the cafeteria, I got my usual favorites—braised meatballs and fish-flavored shredded pork.
But when I took a bite, the food tasted like sawdust. I had no appetite at all.
Hungry, yet no desire to eat.
I thought I was just too exhausted, so I didn't pay much attention. I forced down a few bites, returned to the office, and dove into the piled-up work.
Still, by 9 p.m., I was so drowsy my eyes could barely stay open.
The same pattern continued. Over the weekend, I slept until 10 a.m., and when I woke up, Gina was already at home.
She saw me and teased, "Never thought the queen of self-discipline would ever sleep in."
I gave an awkward smile, puzzled myself why I'd been so tired lately.
I made an instant noodle pack, but again, had no appetite. I ate just a few mouthfuls and left most of it.
As I went to the restroom to dump the lef

This is the gynecology ward!
Surrounded by women on all sides.
At those words, every head turned.
When people saw Gina shielding me, they instantly realized Leona was the other woman.
The crowd closed in around Leona, pointing and whispering. Unable to bear the shame, she stormed off in a huff.
When the scene finally died down, I stayed silent, and so did Gina. We simply slipped into a nearby café and sat down.
"One mocha, please."
"No way!"
I hadn't even finished saying what I wanted when Gina cut me off.
Not only did she forbid me coffee, but she wouldn't let me have anything cold, either.
In protest, I defiantly ordered a glass of warm water, under the server's scornful stare.
When the water arrived and I took a sip, Gina finally asked, "So what are you going to do about the baby?"
I'd thought I'd say "get rid of it" without a second thought.
But the words caught in my throat.
Staring

I followed behind, witnessing the manager hand something resembling a shopping card to the clerk, threatening, "This matter has been suppressed by the president of Skyreach. If you dare to speak out, you won't survive in Swan City!"
She said only one sentence. When I tried to use my phone to record evidence, the manager had already walked away.
I blocked her path, demanding answers.
But the manager merely gave me a cold stare. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Then she left.
I was certain this entire incident was Leona's scheme—her way of making me lose favor in Dominic Hawthorne's eyes.
But I never expected Dominic Hawthorne to turn a blind eye to everything, even help her!
I couldn't bear it!
I stormed straight to the Skyreach Group building, determined to confront Dominic Hawthorne and demand the truth.
Skyreach was a major corporation; entry required an access card. I thought it would be difficult to get in, but as soon as I reached the entrance, the receptionist came over and greeted me warmly, "Madam Hawthorne."
I was escorted upstairs and smoothly entered Dominic Hawthorne's office.
When I walked in, Elliot Anderson—the man who had picked me up that day—was inside. Seeing me, he immediately stepped out.
"Anything you need?" Dominic Hawthorne didn't even look up.
I didn't beat around the bush. I asked directly, "Did you have someone tamper with the mall's surveillance footage?"
"Yes."
I had expected him to deny it, but he admitted it without hesitation.
"Why?"
"No reason."
I loathed his indifference—letting Leona scheme against me, even secretly aiding her!
"You know perfectly well it was Leona who set me up! You know she's two-faced! Then why are you helping her? You're the CEO of a massive company—can you really let a woman manipulate you like this?"
The more I spoke, the angrier I became, my voice rising.
Yet Dominic Hawthorne remained utterly unmoved. He simply picked up the pen on his desk and signed his name at the bottom of the document.
Only after closing the file did he lift his head, his dark eyes icy. "I've chosen her. That's why I allow her to do these things."
I froze.
Staring at Dominic Hawthorne, I suddenly felt he was no longer the man I had loved for twelve years.
I knew him as a man of strategy and decisive action.
But I never imagined he could be so deeply devoted—and utterly without principle—when it came to love.
I stood there, forcing a bitter smile, and asked, "Then what about me? What are you going to do with me?"
He replied coldly, "If you love living in a gilded cage, then I'll let you stay in it. But I will never love you in this lifetime."
He truly knew how to cut me to the core.
My hands clenched into fists, my back rigid, refusing to let myself appear broken. I managed a faint smile. "Fine, Dominic Hawthorne. I understand. From this day forward, I'll make sure I stop loving you too."
With that, I turned and left.
The moment I stepped into the elevator, I was hit by a wave of nausea. By the time I reached the first floor, I rushed into the restroom and retched, but nothing came up.
A cleaning lady happened to be inside. Seeing my condition, she kindly said, "Young lady, aren't you pregnant? Carrying a dried sour plum usually helps ease morning sickness."
I froze.
Pregnant?
That's impossible!


I took the subway back to the office, already starving. At the cafeteria, I got my usual favorites—braised meatballs and fish-flavored shredded pork.
But when I took a bite, the food tasted like sawdust. I had no appetite at all.
Hungry, yet no desire to eat.
I thought I was just too exhausted, so I didn't pay much attention. I forced down a few bites, returned to the office, and dove into the piled-up work.
Still, by 9 p.m., I was so drowsy my eyes could barely stay open.
The same pattern continued. Over the weekend, I slept until 10 a.m., and when I woke up, Gina was already at home.
She saw me and teased, "Never thought the queen of self-discipline would ever sleep in."
I gave an awkward smile, puzzled myself why I'd been so tired lately.
I made an instant noodle pack, but again, had no appetite. I ate just a few mouthfuls and left most of it.
As I went to the restroom to dump the leftovers, Gina—who was washing her hands—saw the bowl and looked shocked. "Wait… you? Actually wasting

Chapter 21 The Mistress Fights the Wife!