###Chapter 4
Because of that fall, I had a miscarriage.
Even though I had already decided not to keep the child, my hand instinctively rubbed over my abdomen. The tears I had been holding back finally fell in heavy drops.
The first call that came was from Hendrix.
“Faith, we’ll have a child of our own one day. I promise. Don’t cry, sweetheart.”
It was an open secret that Hendrix was infertile.
That’s why, even at thirty-two, he was still single. Some women didn’t want to marry him, but more often than not, it was he who rejected them with that very reason.
“Hendrix... come pick me up,” I sniffled, trying to sound obedient and calm for him, even though my nose was sore and stuffy from crying.
Just then, Arthur’s parents arrived at the hospital—and caught me on the phone.
“Who are you talking to?” they asked warily.
I wiped away my tears and looked up indifferently. “Hendrix. I’m already married to him.”
They were both stunned. But Arthur's mother quickly composed herself and snapped, “Impossible! How could the head of the Jordan family marry someone like you, a woman my son has already slept with?!”
“Give them the phone, sweetheart,” Hendrix’s voice was calm on the other end of the line, but filled with the kind of pressure that precedes a storm.
So, I handed the phone to Arthur's mother.
Mr. Sullivan leaned in to listen. I didn't know what Hendrix said to them, but they didn’t dare utter another word.
“Y-Yes, of course, Sir. Don’t worry, we’ll treat Faith with absolute respect. We wouldn’t dream of troubling her.”
The Jordan family was one of the most powerful old-money clans. Even the Sullivan family wasn’t qualified to kiss the dirt beneath their shoes.
Back then, I had delayed the wedding because I found out Arthur had betrayed me. But I accidentally got pregnant—and finally, Arthur's parents had a bargaining chip to force me into marriage.
They wanted the wedding not because they cared about me, but because they could get their hands on half of my parents’ massive inheritance.
That was the real reason they were so eager for Arthur to marry me.
What a joke. I was lucky their son ran away and left me behind that day.
Now, I was finally free—released from the shackles of so-called “gratitude” and debt.
After hanging up the phone, Mr. Sullivan, though still reluctant, tugged Arthur's mother away.
Before leaving, she shot me a bitter glare.
“Everyone knows that Hendrix is infertile. I don’t care how rich he is—he’s no match for our Arthur, who’s young, strong, and virile.”
“You don’t have to worry about that.” I smiled faintly. “There are more ways to have a child than you could ever imagine.”
I got discharged early and limped home to pack my things.
But the moment I opened the door, I saw Jennica sprawled on top of Arthur on the sofa. Her curvy waist moved in rhythm with his frantic thrusts.
He hadn’t expected me back so soon. He shoved Jennica aside, pulled up his pants, and ran over to me, sweat beading on his forehead.
“Faith, it’s not what it looks like! Jennica wasn’t feeling well—I was just massaging her injury.”
What kind of injury required him to take his pants off?
“I saw the firefighters yesterday. I knew you’d be rescued, so I helped Jennica first. She has lung cancer, and she inhaled a lot of smoke. I was afraid she’d get an infection... Wait, your foot—are you okay?”
I lowered my eyes, unwilling to see the false concern in his expression, and walked toward the bedroom.
“It’s all my fault. Because I’m sick, Arthur had to leave you behind... Please don’t be mad at him,” Jennica said softly, approaching me.
But in her eyes, a flash of malice flickered.
I instinctively stepped back, forgetting my injured foot. Pain shot through my ankle and I stumbled.
Jennica screamed and fell down with me.
Her elbow slammed hard into my stomach, and her foot struck my injured ankle with a brutal kick.
The pain was blinding. My vision went dark as my body crashed to the floor like shattered glass.
Clutching her chest, Jennica started crying.
“I already apologized! Why did you hit me again?! You know I have lung cancer!”
Arthur rushed over and, without hesitation, scooped her into his arms.
“What did Jennica do wrong? Why do you always treat her this way?” he growled at me.
Then he saw me trembling in agony, and for a second, he hesitated. But in the end, he still turned and walked away with the weeping Jennica in his arms.
Just like the 87 times before—he always chose her, never me.
But this time, my heart felt nothing. No sadness. No tears.
I lay on the ground for a long while. Once the pain subsided, I wiped the sweat from my brow and got up.
Then, I gathered every gift Arthur had ever given me and threw them all into a metal bin. I lit a match and set them ablaze.
Every single one of those gifts had been chosen by him—but not one matched my taste.
Now I finally understood. The skirts were always pink because that was Jennica's favorite color.
The jewelry, always flashy and sparkly, because that was her style. Even the “maternity” toys he once gave me were because she was pregnant and she wanted them.
The fire roared, consuming everything. But none of it mattered anymore.
An hour later, a line of luxury cars pulled up outside.
A tall, handsome man in a sleek suit carried me into one of them.
At the same time, headlines exploded online.
[Heiress of the Henderson Family Marries into the Jordan Clan azoospermia rich.]
When Arthur heard the news, he was feeding Jennica ice cream. The bowl slipped from his hand and shattered on the floor.
He went completely insane, racing to the airport in his car.
Through the window of the private jet, I saw him—eyes red, running faster than he ever had in his life, shouting my name at the top of his lungs.
But it was too late.
The plane left the runway. Its deafening roar drowned out all love and hate.
I deleted all his contact information without hesitation. From now on he is nothing. Never see you again, Arthur.
