"Is anyone there? How's my baby?"
A warm hand gently patted the back of mine.
Josephine spoke softly. "The doctor said the baby is perfectly healthy. They want you to stay in the hospital and rest."
She paused. "But your hands, ma'am... the scars will probably be permanent."
Only then did I notice the thick layers of gauze wrapped around both hands. The slightest movement sent a searing pain straight to the bone.
Tears of lingering fear slid down my cheeks, and I let out a long, shaky breath.
Hurried footsteps echoed from the doorway.
Before I could even register who it was, someone seized me and hauled me off the bed.
"Joanna, if you had a problem with Stephanie, you could've just told me! Setting a fire to kill someone is a crime!"
"Do you have any idea she almost had a miscar—"
His furious tirade cut off abruptly.
I looked up in disbelief. Every ounce of physical pain paled against the agony tearing through my chest.
"You think I set that fire to burn her alive?"
Tears spilled like a broken string of pearls, falling one after another without end.
Six years. I had been by Dominic's side for six years, and in his eyes, I was nothing but a vicious, heartless woman.
My stomach clenched violently, and I winced at the cramping.
Dominic's grip on my arm didn't loosen. He dragged me toward the door.
"It doesn't matter who actually did it. All of this started because of you."
"Stephanie is terrified. She's emotionally unstable. You're going to apologize to her."
As he wrenched me forward, my hand slammed into the doorframe.
Every last drop of strength drained from my body. Dominic hauled me down the corridor like a rag doll, merciless, never once looking back.
The moment we crossed the threshold into Stephanie's room, I heard her pitiful sobbing.
Then the hospital bed rattled violently. Stephanie climbed down and dropped to her knees at my feet with a thud.
Her voice cracked with anguish.
"Joanna, I'll move out. I'll leave the house, I promise. Just please don't kill me, okay?"
Her long, sharp acrylic nails dug straight into my open wounds.
I flinched and tried to pull back, but a heavy crash echoed through the room.
A stinging slap blazed across my cheek. Dominic had struck me so hard I crumpled to the floor.
My stomach hit the sharp corner of a table. The pain was blinding.
Stephanie's weeping grew louder, even more fragile and piteous than before.
"Don't blame Joanna. It's all my fault... I'm just not good enough. That's why she hates me."
I sat crumpled on the cold floor. Something warm trickled between my legs.
I stared at my mangled, gauze-wrapped hands. My mind went blank.
"Dominic... I think I'm bleeding..."
A cold scoff was all I got in return.
"You think a lie like that is going to make me feel sorry for you?"
I shook my head frantically. "I'm not lying. I'm pregnant..."
"Please, just take me to a doctor."
Stephanie tugged at her tears, putting on the look of a stubborn, delicate flower.
"Go take Joanna to the doctor. She needs you more than I do right now."
A nurse happened to walk in on her rounds and began going over instructions with Stephanie.
"You're showing signs of a threatened miscarriage. You absolutely cannot let yourself get upset."
After she finished, I felt a searing gaze land on me.
The nurse glanced my way with visible disgust. "And you, sir, even if you want to carry on with your mistress, at least don't let it affect your wife's pregnancy."
Dominic didn't argue. He just gave a quiet murmur of acknowledgment.
The moment the nurse left, Dominic signaled his bodyguards to throw me out.
I lay sprawled on the cold hospital floor, my lower abdomen ripping apart as if a thousand hands were tearing at it from the inside. I couldn't breathe through the pain.
Everything around me was darkness. My voice came out raw and broken as I called for help.
Footsteps passed by. Not a single person stopped.
"That's the shameless woman who's been throwing herself at Mr. Mercer. Can you believe it? Trying to worm her way in as his mistress."
"Too bad Mr. Mercer only has eyes for his wife. He didn't even spare her a glance."
I dragged myself forward on my hands and knees, begging them to help me.
But someone shoved me hard from behind. I tumbled down dozens of steps, clawing desperately until my fingers caught the railing.
My grip kept slipping. I was about to lose hold.
If I fell, the baby wouldn't survive.
I squeezed my eyes shut in despair. The moment my fingers gave way and my body plunged into freefall, a pair of strong arms swept me up.
"I'm sorry. I should have been here sooner."
