He leaned back lazily on the sofa, and through the glass behind him, I could vaguely see a woman’s figure moving.
The nurse changing my dressing looked up, unable to hide her outrage:
“Sir, your wife is newly pregnant and—” Lucas suddenly straightened, his expression flipping instantly to intense, unwavering concern:
“Adriana, you’re pregnant? When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me?”
His voice was urgent and sincere, even trembling:
“I’m sorry, it’s my fault! Stay there, I’ll cancel the most important project and rush to the hospital right now!”
His earnest tone made it seem as if the man who told me to die outside the emergency room had never existed.
I sneered inwardly and hung up immediately.
Less than thirty minutes later, the ward door opened softly.
But it wasn’t Lucas.
Lydia entered holding a huge bouquet of lilies and a luxury-brand gift bag, walking toward me with a gentle smile.
“Madam, Mr. Sterling was extremely worried when he heard you were pregnant, so he asked me to come take care of you.”
“These flowers and gifts were supposed to be a birthday present from him. Consider them a surprise for you; I don’t really like them anyway…”
She placed the bouquet and gift bag on the bedside table, then deliberately brushed her half-wet hair aside, revealing an unmistakable, intimate red mark on her neck.
I closed my eyes, trying to force away the unbearable images flooding my mind.
Lydia suddenly leaned in:
“Adriana, I didn’t expect that after taking birth control pills for so many years, you could still get pregnant…”
My eyes snapped open. Her malicious gaze was fixed on my lower abdomen:
“I just wonder if this child will live to be born… or even be normal…”
Understanding everything in an instant, I raised my hand and slapped her hard.
She covered her swelling cheek, her eyes instantly filling with tears. Her voice rose in wounded grievance:
“Madam, I know you hate that Mr. Sterling wants you to be independent, but he’s doing it for your own good!”
“He doesn’t want people to be independent because he doesn’t care—he loves you so much that he’s strict with you! He wants you to grow, to be stronger!”
She stepped closer, tears trembling in her eyes:
“You’re going to be a mother now, please be more mature, okay? You don’t know how much pressure Mr. Sterling faces every day to earn money and support the family…”
Her voice broke, as if she were the one suffering:
“He really has it hard. Please stop putting pressure on him, okay?”
“Get out,” I cut her off coldly.
Lydia suddenly lunged forward and seized my injured wrist.
I instinctively pulled back, but she twisted the motion, shoving herself away with my hand and letting out a dramatic scream as she fell backward, crashing into the bedside table.
A loud bang echoed.
The lilies scattered across the floor, petals and stems in disarray.
She sat on the ground, looking up at me with watery eyes.
“Madam, I came to care for you out of kindness. Why did you hit me?” At that moment, the ward door burst open.
Lucas saw the pitiful Lydia on the floor, and his expression turned pitch-black.
He hurried over and helped her up, his voice panicked, more nervous than I had ever heard:
“Lydia? Are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere?”
He checked her anxiously from head to toe, as if she were some delicate treasure.
