I Turned His Double Joy to Dust

Christian shook my hand off roughly, yet he was careful not to hurt Vicky.

"What's there to explain?" he asked. "Isn't it obvious enough? With how timid Vicky was, it took everything I had to keep her pregnancy stable for the past several months. If something happens to the baby because of you, I won't let you get away with it!"

With that, Christian carried Vicky and rushed out of their so-called "home", leaving me behind on my own.

Beneath my feet was a soft, cutesy rug. On the bed lay custom-made silk sheets, and a mistless humidifier sat by the headboard.

The office had been fitted with a constant temperature and humidity system, and all the furniture had rounded edges. There was even an entire wall stocked with high-end maternity and baby supplies.

It really took everything Christian had to hide everything from me and continue playing the role of a devoted husband and father. But at the same time, he was carefully tending to a timid pregnant woman, even ordering everyone in the office to keep their mouths shut.

Gritting my teeth, I grabbed that photo frame and smashed it into pieces.

…

It was already dark by the time I returned home. Maria Embers, our nanny, had settled both my daughters to sleep.

I gently caressed their cheeks. The cold sweat and anger ebbed away, and my heart gradually slowed down.

These were the twins I gave birth to after countless hormone injections and three rounds of IVF.

Christian had gone into the delivery room with me five years ago. At first, he'd cracked jokes to help me relax. But eventually, he cried even harder than I did.

He said, "Two girls… Our daughters might have to give birth someday too. No way… We're done having children, Juliet. Our daughters won't have children either."

Back then, I truly believed I had found the perfect partner. For the next five years, Christian's love for me never wavered.

But every illusion of that love was shattered today.

My poor daughters didn't even know that their father was about to have another child.

Suddenly, I remembered the gold bracelet on Vicky's wrist. Wasn't that part of the family heirlooms I'd been setting aside for my daughters ever since they were born?

My heart started racing.

I ran to the study and opened the safe, only to realize the box containing the family heirlooms was gone. There had been two full sets of gold, silver, and emerald jewelry, as well as 20 gold bars inside.

My heart sank. I grabbed my phone and called a friend. "Help me track down someone's address. I need it now!"

…

Half an hour later, I drove out to a secluded mountain villa in the suburbs.

A familiar face came to the door. It was Eileen Greene. She was the nanny who had taken care of my daughters and me since my pregnancy.

As my daughters had grown attached to her, I'd paid her generously, planning to keep her around until they grew up.

But last year, Eileen resigned, saying her son was getting married. It turned out Christian had brought her over to take care of his next child, who was about to be born.

"Ms. Ziegler…" Eileen stammered.

My expression fell. I pushed past her and walked straight in.

In the room closest to the door, the pregnant short-haired cat was stretching lazily.

The room was twice the size of my office. It was filled wall to wall with cat supplies. Clearly, it had been custom-built for it.

I continued to walk in.

Soon, I heard Christian's gentle murmur, "It's okay. Didn't the doctor say the baby's healthy? We can replace everything she smashed. It's just a photo frame. I'll have the studio redo it for you."

Through a crack in the door, I saw Vicky curled in his arms, her finger tracing circles over his Adam's apple. "But I'm really scared she'll come after me again. She won't accept me—"

Christian chuckled softly. "What are you afraid of? Since when have I ever let you suffer?"

I dug my nails deep into my palm and coldly said, "Return the family heirlooms I set aside for our daughters, Christian."

Vicky's eyes widened as she screamed and buried her face in his chest.

The tenderness on Christian's face morphed into irritation. He pulled her behind him, grabbed a bottle of cosmetics from the vanity, and hurled it at me.

"What are you doing here? Vicky is almost due. Can't whatever you want to say wait until after she gives birth?"

He'd only ever lost his temper with me twice in the past ten years we were together. Both times happened today because of Vicky, and he'd even turned violent this time.

The bottle struck my forehead, and the pain left me dizzy. "I'll say it one last time. Return my daughters' family heirlooms. If not, I'm calling the police."

Christian frowned when he saw blood trickling from my forehead. Before he could say anything, Vicky clutched her swollen belly and dropped to her knees.

She was frantically ripping off the bracelet and necklace. "I'll return them all to you, Ms. Ziegler! I'm sorry! I have no shame. You can hit or scold me, but my baby is innocent. Please, spare my child."

Christian hurriedly helped Vicky up, his heart breaking at the sight. "Why would you talk about yourself like that? What if the baby hears you?"