Eleven Miscarriages, One Final Cut

After her eleventh miscarriage, Clara Fulton became pregnant again. To protect the pregnancy, she lay in a hospital bed day after day, enduring injection after injection, waiting for the special drug meant to save her child.

Then she discovered the truth. Her husband of eight years, Ethan Grayson, had already given that one dose of the special drug to his newly pregnant mistress.

Clara wiped the tears from her face and made a ruthless decision, ending the pregnancy she had fought so desperately to keep.

She no longer wanted a man who wavered between women. But anyone who betrayed sincerity would have to pay a price.

She took out a phone she had never once used and dialed the only number saved on it.

"You wanted me to acknowledge you as my father, didn't you? Come pick me up in a week. I'll take your seat."

She had no idea that after she left, Ethan would kneel before every god he could think of, praying for nothing but her return.

......

During her twelfth pregnancy, Clara spent a full six months confined to a hospital bed to keep the baby safe. At last, the special drug was successfully developed.

Ever since her first pregnancy, Ethan had invested heavily in a research institute to create a drug to stabilize her condition. Now, it finally showed results.

When the message from the research institute arrived, Ethan lowered his head, typing rapidly. When he looked up at Clara, his eyes were so gentle they seemed to melt into sweetness.

Clara smiled back, then lowered her head and picked up her tablet to play a game. That was when she noticed Ethan hadn't logged out of his messaging app. Messages kept pouring in.

"Mr. Grayson, only one dose of the special drug has been produced. Miss Zane is still early in her pregnancy and in good health. There's really no need to give it to her."

"Ivy has already suffered enough by staying with me. She's delicate, and it wasn't easy for her to get pregnant with my child. I can't let anything go wrong with this baby."

"But this pregnancy has been extremely difficult for Mrs. Grayson. She's on daily injections, bedridden, and constantly at risk of miscarriage…"

"She's already miscarried so many times. One more won't make a difference. By the time she gets pregnant again, the drug can be mass-produced."

Clara recognized every word. Yet together, they felt utterly unfamiliar. It was as if she had plunged into icy water. Her body began to tremble uncontrollably, her eyes locked on the words "pregnant with my child."

She had stood by Ethan for over a decade. Together, they had fought through gunfire and bloodshed, rising from nothing to become the leaders of the syndicate.

No one dared humiliate them anymore.

For a child that shared both their blood, she had swallowed countless pills and endured endless injections.

Every night, Ethan held her and cried, sobbing that they should give up, that her health mattered more than anything. Yet he could never break her resolve.

Whenever she lay in bed receiving another injection, Ethan would kneel beside her and stab himself, determined to share her pain.

Every time she miscarried, he blamed himself, convinced it was punishment for the blood on his hands. He prayed like a man drowning—on his knees, voice raw, begging heaven to cradle the child he couldn't keep safe in this world.

How could a man like that, while she lay motionless in a hospital bed for six months fighting to keep their child, get another woman pregnant?

Clara's eyes burned red as she looked up at Ethan, who was still typing nonstop not far away.

Sensing her gaze, he looked up, his eyes filled with concern.

"What's wrong, honey? Don't be scared. The special drug will be ready soon. Our baby will be born safely."

But the moment he lowered his head, a new message popped up from a cartoon avatar.

"Honey, our son just kicked. Come quick and feel it."

Ethan's breathing quickened as he replied without hesitation. "I'm coming right now."

"You've got ten minutes. If you're not here by then, I'm ignoring you."

A dozen angry yet cute stickers flooded the chat.

Ethan typed quickly, coaxing her. "My dear, don't be mad. I'm on my way."

He even added several kissing stickers.

This was the kind of behavior he once despised most.

At that moment, Clara felt as if an invisible hand had clenched her heart, squeezing until she could barely breathe.

Before her eyes, Ethan was lost in his own world, a clear smile tugging at his lips.

So it was true. Ethan really had another woman. Even if Clara wanted to deceive herself, she no longer could.

They had both grown up in the slums. Clara was a child with no known father. Ethan's mother had been beaten and driven away, leaving him to survive under his father's constant abuse.

Clara had a gentle, loving mother. To protect her from rumors and cruelty, Clara picked up a stick and attacked those filled with malice like a madwoman.

She also used that same stick to shield Ethan when he was beaten half to death by his father, taking his hand and leading him home.

That year, Clara was twelve, and Ethan was nine.

When Clara was fifteen and her mother fell gravely ill, Ethan swore to protect Clara for the rest of his life.

They depended on each other to survive, joining the underworld just to stay alive. They gambled with their lives, clawed their way upward, and finally took control of Asterfall. No one dared bully them again.

When everything finally began to improve, Clara longed for a family member bound to them by blood. For that wish, she paid a devastating price.

What awaited her was a betrayal far deeper than she had ever imagined.

"Are you worried about the special drug?" Ethan finally noticed the tears at the corner of Clara's eyes. He quickly put his phone down and reached out to wipe them away.

"The drug has already been developed. Don't be sad. Before long, there'll be a child calling me Dad and you Mom."

Ethan painted a gentle picture of their future. Clara clenched her fists tightly, her nails digging into her skin. The pain kept her painfully clear-headed.

"Someone in the west side is stirring trouble. I need to take care of it. Get some rest."

Ethan turned to leave with that excuse, but Clara grabbed his wrist. She looked up at him, forcing calm into her voice as she tested him.

"I'm not feeling very well. Can you stay with me?"