Filled with joy, Bethan headed home, clutching the test report of pregnancy. She pondered how to surprise her husband, Brettley, who had been overseas on a business trip for over half a month. He was finally returning home tomorrow.
But as she stepped inside, her happiness began to wane. A pair of ladies’ shoes lay by the door—shoes that weren’t hers. She recognized them immediately. They belonged to her sister, Cynthal, who had just bought them recently.
Bethan’s heart sank. Wasn’t Cynthal supposed to be on that business trip with Brettley?
Just then, she heard a woman’s voice coming from upstairs.
This voice… It was her sister, Cynthal’s voice!
Bethan bit her lip as her body trembled inadvertently. Which other man could it be if it was not her husband?
Instinctively, she raised her feet and walked upstairs. The closer she got, the louder the voices of the man and woman that drifted out of the bedroom.
“What are we going to do when she comes back later?”
Compared to Cynthal’s soft, feminine purr, Brettley’s voice sounded particularly cold and deep.
“I don’t care.”
“She’s been dreaming of having your child for a long time now, but I beat her to it. How do you plan to explain this to her?”
The man’s voice remained cold and remote.
“I don’t care.”
Bethan’s heart froze in her chest. A moment later, she retracted her hand that sat on the handle. She turned and left, not daring to face the situation in the room.
Even if she opened the door, what good would it do her? It was a well-known fact that her husband did not love her.
She was the one who insisted, who fought the whole world, to marry him.
In their two-year marriage, to give him a child, she visited every hospital in the city and experimented with all sorts of home remedies.
When she was finally pregnant with his child, he slept with her half-sister, in their marriage bed. Adding insult to injury, Cynthal was pregnant, too.
Bethan trudged out of the villa helplessly as tears cascaded soundlessly down her cheeks. She ignored the heavy downpour, and as she feebly walked, Cynthal and Brettley’s voices interweaved and rang in her ears.
No wonder Brettley wanted Cynthal to be his assistant, no wonder he insisted on bringing her along every time he went on a business trip.
They had been together all this while.
Fully dressed Cynthal stood by the window of the bedroom and studied her sister’s distant figure. A cold smile hung on her lips.
The man’s voice that Bethan heard was a product of Cynthal’s clever editing. Brettley’s voice was nothing but a mere recording. She knew Bethan would not dare enter the room.
“My wife is Bethan. Please, have some respect for yourself.”
“I don’t plan on getting a divorce in the next few years.”
Brettley’s ruthless voice when he rejected her rang in her ears.
With a cold scoff, Cynthal took out her phone and dialed a number.
…
Bethan had unknowingly walked in the pouring rain all the way to Bay Bridge, and there were barely any cars on the bridge as a result of the rainy weather.
Out of nowhere, a cargo truck rushed in her direction as she, too immersed in her sadness, did not react in time.
Slam!
She flew into the air from the impact before she fell heavily onto the edge of the bridge. She felt as if all her organs had shifted in her body as thick, fresh, blood dripped from the top of her head, and it dyed her vision red.
In her dazed state, she saw someone get down from the truck and stretched out a hand to check her breathing. After confirming she survived, the man made a phone call.
“Mr. Morrison, she’s still alive. Should I drive the car into her again?”
Bethan’s heart ached as if the truck had run over it and smashed it to smithereens.
The driver was asking Mr. Morrison.
She only knew of one Mr. Morrison her whole life—Brettley Morrison.
The man she loved the most, to whom she dedicated her most beautiful years and all her love, Brettley Morrison.
Did he try to get rid of her, just because she discovered his and Cynthal’s secret affair?
Was it… Was it because he wanted to give the child in Cynthal’s belly a proper name and identity? The child in her belly was his, too…
“Don’t blame me. Blame yourself for falling in love with the wrong man!”
The driver ended the call before he kicked her ruthlessly with his shoe-clad foot.
She was less than two meters away from the edge of the bridge.
The driver was a strong, full-grown man, and he mercilessly kicked her broken body. In just a few tries, she was flung into the air.
“See you in our next lifetime.”
Bethan fell off the bridge.
The image of Brettley as he stood under the cherry blossom trees all those years ago came back clearly to her. He was the same boy: exceptionally handsome, warm, and gentle.
“I hate you, Brettley Morrison…”
…
Sea City.
A tall, handsome man walked out of the meeting room, looking dignified but somewhat arrogant. His assistant next to him leaned forward in a panic.
“Sir, it’s your wife. Something’s wrong.”
The man frowned slightly, and his footsteps never paused.
“What trouble did she get herself into now?”
“Madam, she…she was knocked into the sea by a truck, and her body hasn’t been found.”
The man’s pupils shrank immediately.
Right at that moment, Brettley’s phone rang. It was a call from the hospital.
“Mr. Morrison, your wife didn’t want me to tell you about it, but I still think you need to be ready. Your wife is pregnant, and it’s three months in…”
…
Six years later.
An international flight from Europe landed in Banyan City.
Bethan dragged her luggage behind her and passed security clearance.
Six years ago, she was Bethan Peterson. After she survived the ordeal of an accident, she chose to go simply by Bethan.
The chestnut-colored hair fanned across her shoulders carelessly. She donned a bright red shirt and black trench coat over it, making her look cold and mysterious.
Two children, a boy and a girl, followed behind her as they wore the same coat and dragged the same suitcase.
Judging purely from appearances, they looked to be no more than five or six years old, but the aura they emitted was so noble and glamorous yet cold that no one dared approach them.
“Bethan!”
Anne Zimmer, who had been waiting at the entrance, hurriedly waved to her in greeting.
“Over here!”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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