The Betrayed Wife's Spectacular Fiery Comeback

The next morning, the nausea was real and undeniable. Avery knelt in the marble bathroom of the master bedroom, her body convulsing from dry heaving. She hadn't slept all night, lying on that extra-large bed. The cold sheets carved a chasm between her and the man sleeping beside her, and she stared into the darkness.

Her vomiting must have woken him up. The bathroom door was suddenly pushed open, and Julian stood there, his face full of panic.

"Avery! Dear, what's wrong? He rushed to her side and reached out to stroke her back.

His touch was like dry wood meeting a spark—a strong disgust that made her tremble suddenly spread throughout her body. She instinctively dodged, propping herself up with trembling hands.

"Don't touch me." Her words were gentle, yet as sharp as a blade.

He froze, his hand suspended in midair, his expression showing genuine pain. This man is truly an amazing actor.

"I'm fine." She turned to the sink and splashed cold water in her face. She looked at his reflection in the mirror—a worried husband, a concerned partner, all lies. "Maybe it's work stress or stomach discomfort."

"Pressure?" This is not just stress. "His voice was firm, carrying the possessiveness he knew how to handle it." We're going to the hospital, right now. I want you to do a thorough check-up. ”

A cold, bitter laugh almost spilled from her lips. Of course, he wanted her to go to the hospital. He needs to make sure his "investment" remains intact. Or perhaps he worried she might be pregnant—a complicated situation he couldn't bear.

A thought flashed through her cold void. Hospitals—where lies begin and the perfect place to start searching for the truth.

"Alright." Her voice was calm. "If this can put you at ease."

Inside the car, a stylish black Bentley silently glides through city streets, never leaving his side. He held her hand, his thumb gently stroking her knuckles, softly offering words of comfort—he would stay with her throughout, and they would face everything together.

Avery felt nothing. She gazed out the window, and the city blurred into ashes and steel in her eyes. When his touch became unbearable, she withdrew her hand.

"It's too stuffy here." She rolled down the car window. A cool morning breeze rushed in, bringing a delightful impact.

At the New York Presbyterian Hospital, Julian himself is the embodiment of efficiency. He used the surname "Parker" like a key, opened a private suite, bypassed the queue, and called a specialist by phone. He is the perfect, powerful husband, ensuring his wife receives the best care.

They sat in a quiet, private waiting room, where the lab was processing her blood samples. Julian's phone vibrated on the glass surface of the table.

He glanced at the screen, and his whole expression changed—the deliberate worry on his face faded, replaced by a trace of sincere and urgent tenderness. Those were the gazes she once thought were reserved only for her.

He suddenly stood up. "I have to answer this call. Right outside. ”

Avery looked at him through the floor-to-ceiling glass in the lounge. He walked a few steps down the corridor, his back to her, but she could see his reflection on the bright marble wall across the way. She saw his face soften, a gentle smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

He spoke softly, but she didn't need to hear the words—she could read lips. A few years ago, she learned a boring party trick for fun, but now it had become a weapon.

**Don't be afraid. I'll be there right away. **

The moment he hung up, his guard dropped, revealing the true face of a man in love. Then he turned around, and his worried husband's mask was put back on.

He strode back to the lounge. "Dear, I'm sorry. The office ran into trouble, and an emergency board meeting was held. I have to go. ”

He leaned down, lying as smoothly as his expensive silk tie. "I'll have Assistant Mark come to keep you company. As soon as the results came out, he immediately called me. ”

Avery looked up at his handsome, lying face. There was no more pain in his chest, no anger, only a vast, hollow void—almost calm.

"Work comes first." Her voice was unusually calm. "Go ahead."

He looked relieved. He quickly and perfunctorily pressed a kiss on her forehead—a routine gesture—then strode away. He was in a hurry.

She watched him disappear around the corner. Then calmly took out his phone. A few months ago, after he had "worked overtime" for the third time in a week, a tiny and ugly seed of suspicion prompted her to install a tracking app on his phone. Back then, she felt guilty about it, but now she can't.

She opened the app. A small blue dot representing Julian Cars was steadily moving across the map of Manhattan—not heading toward the downtown Parker Industrial headquarters, but heading uptown, heading toward Stella's luxury apartment address.

The lie was confirmed. The visual evidence is clear and irrefutable on the small screen. She closed the app, her hand steady. She took a deep breath.

At that moment, a kind-faced nurse wearing a bright floral surgical gown walked in, holding a tablet.

"Mrs. Parker?" The nurse's smile was warm. "The results are out. Congratulations—you're pregnant, six weeks pregnant. ”

These words hit Avery like a heavy hammer. Her body stiffened, and air silently rushed out of her lungs. Pregnant.

Her hand unconsciously moved down, landing on her flat abdomen. A child. A baby. His child.

For that terrifying moment, the ice wall in her heart seemed about to crack. This is exactly what she wants, and what they have "all" wanted over the past year—a family.

But immediately, those images flooded back. Julian's cold sneer, Stella's whimpering, the lie about her mother's kidneys, the blue dot moving toward another woman's apartment.

This child is not a bond, but a trouble—a shackle that could bind her to a man she now despises.

The nurse mistook her silence for shock and continued smiling. "I'll give you some time. The doctor will come in soon to discuss the details with you. ”

The nurse left and gently closed the door. Avery stayed alone in the quiet, luxurious room. The joy she should have felt now turned into bitter ashes in her mouth.

But when she sat there, her hands still on her abdomen, something changed. The faint glimmer of despair went out, replaced by a cold, hard flame.

This child will not be a shackle, nor a weakness.

It will be her strength, her reasoning.

She would not lead a child into a world full of lies. She would first completely destroy that world.

She stood up. No doctor waited, no Julian assistant. She walked out of the lounge with a newly discovered target.

She knew where she was going.

The hospital's medical records.

She must find evidence—for her mother, for herself, and for the tiny, unnoticed life inside her belly.