Chapter Four

The sharp scent of disinfectant stabbed at my nostrils as I opened my eyes. A hollow, dull ache pulsed in my lower abdomen—my child was gone.

The doctor entered the room, his tone flat. "Mrs. Blackwood, given your weak constitution and the emotional distress, the pregnancy was already unstable. This accident led to a miscarriage Get plenty of rest."

Accident?

I gave a faint, twisted smile and said nothing.

This was no accident. Sebastian and his mistress had personally destroyed my last shred of hope.

While finalizing the discharge paperwork, my phone vibrated. A message from Jack, my father's old ally: [Undercover contacts are live. Swiss account activated. Flight confirmed for one week.]

I turned off the screen, my knuckles white.

Sebastian wasn't home when I returned to the villa. On the living room table sat a half-finished glass of whiskey, still lukewarm, a faint smear of light pink lipstick on its rim—Layla's shade.

I walked into the study. From the drawer, I took out the folded divorce papers, then a deep brown envelope containing the miscarriage certificate. Finally, from my bag, I retrieved the one thing I couldn't bear to look at.

Sebastian returned in the evening. A dark red stain speckled his cuff. Seeing me, a flicker of panic crossed his eyes before he masked it with concern. "Where were you? Your phone was off."

"A stomach flu flare-up. I went to the hospital for an IV." I handed over the divorce agreement disguised as an investment agreement, my tone calm. "That gallery investment I mentioned? They need a confirmation letter. Sign it if everything looks fine."

Sebastian glanced at the file title, didn't look closely at the content, picked up a pen, quickly flipped to the last page, and signed his name. His mind was elsewhere, his fingers absently tracing his phone. "Good that you're okay. I have some business to handle tonight." His eyes fell on the gift box on the table. "What's this?"

I took back the signed papers. "A return gift."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "What's the occasion?"

"You signing this." I smiled. "Open it in one week. It ruins the point if you open it early."

He took the box, shook it lightly. No sound. "This isn't some prank, is it?"

"You know I don't play games with you."

My words made his eyes shift. He leaned in for a kiss, but I turned my head. His lips brushed my cheek.

"I'm tired," I said. "I'm going to shower first."

"Alright." Sebastian replied absently, shoving the gift box into his briefcase as he turned to leave. "Don't wait up."

The moment the door closed, the tension drained from my shoulders.

I walked to the window, watching Sebastian's car merge into the traffic stream, heading straight for Layla's apartment.

For the next few days, Sebastian barely came home. Through surveillance and Jack's updates, I tracked his every move.

Late on the first night, a gunfight erupted at a harbor warehouse. Sebastian led his men in a bloody struggle to seize a batch of rare medicinal herbs—Layla claimed she needed them for insomnia during her pregnancy. On the surveillance feed, I saw him personally snap the rival boss's neck, blood spattering his face. He wiped it off impassively with a handkerchief, then immediately made a tender phone call to Layla.

Next, the youngest son of a rival city gang went missing. Rumor had it he'd made a pass at Layla in a bar days earlier. I received the news as I was packing my clothes and documents into a pre-prepared suitcase. Reading the words "missing person presumed deceased" on the screen, my fingers didn't even tremble.

Sebastian came home once during that time, rushing in to grab a coat. He saw me packing. "Going somewhere?" he asked offhandedly.

"The gallery project requires a few days of on-site inspection." I didn't look up. "Remember to open that gift box in a week."

"Got it." Sebastian was distracted, his phone constantly buzzing—Layla. He snatched his coat and left, not even noticing the finality in my eyes.

The seventh day, the day before my planned departure. I did a final check of my luggage, then walked into the kitchen. I turned on the gas stove and placed a stack of old, flammable newspapers beside it. On the living room sofa, I positioned the body of a woman dressed in the white sundress I often wore—procured by Jack, a near-perfect match for my build.

With everything set, I took one last look at the villa I'd lived in for five years and walked out. Jack was already waiting in the car outside.

At that same moment, in a downtown baby store. Sebastian was helping Layla pick out onesies. She leaned into him, cooing. "This blue one. Look how cute the little bear is."

Sebastian smiled, ruffling her hair. He picked up the blue onesie. Just as his fingers touched the fabric, his phone began vibrating wildly in his pocket.

"Fuck," Sebastian frowned, swiping to decline the call.

"Who is it?" Layla looked up.

"Nobody important. Let's look at the cribs next."

The phone buzzed again. The same subordinate. As Sebastian moved to decline again, Layla caught his hand. "Answer it. What if it's urgent?"

He clicked his tongue in irritation and answered, his voice sharp. "What is it? I'm busy."

The subordinate's voice on the other end trembled. "Mr. Blackwood! It's terrible! The villa… the villa is on fire! The fire department is there… they… they say there's a woman inside, wearing Mrs. Blackwood's white dress…"

Sebastian's face went deathly pale. Before he could process it, the TV screen nearby cut to breaking news. The anchor's voice was urgent. "We interrupt with an urgent report! A massive fire has engulfed the Blackwood family villa. Firefighters on scene report one female trapped inside, current condition unknown…"

The screen filled with images of the burning villa, thick smoke billowing, flames roaring into the sky.

Sebastian stood frozen, the blue onesie slipping from his fingers to the floor.