Chapter 1
I lost my baby after my husband Jack Garcia’s mistress pushed my down the stairs.
But when Jack arrived, he embraced Deborah Clark instead, praising her actions. He glared at me coldly,
“If I hadn’t lost my memory back then, how could I have ever agreed to marry you?”
“Only Deborah is worthy of bearing my child. You stole her place-losing the baby is just a good way to let her vent her anger.”
The blinding bloodstains buried all my love for Jack.
As I left, his friends eagerly bet on how soon I’d crawl back begging.
Jack sneered:
“Just a pity act. She schemed her way into this wealthy family-no way she’d be willing to leave.”
What they didn’t know: my private jet had long awaited me atop the opposite skyscraper.
***
Tears drained dry, I passed Jack. He shot a disgusted glance at the urn in my arms.
“At least you know your place. Those ashes bring bad luck that might harm Deborah.”
“Deborah carries my child. Though I can’t marry her, her baby will be my sole heir.”
I nodded indifferently, desperate to leave.
But Jack grabbed my arm, brow furrowed:
“Dump that urn outside. Then make Deborah some Herb-infused Broth-she’s got no appetite for anything else.”
As I opened my mouth to refuse, his grip tightened viciously.
I remembered last month at the mall-merely refusing to surrender new heels to Deborah-
Jack punished me by forcing my bare feet over two kilometers of gravel until they bled raw.
Sighing softly, I placed the urn by the entrance and hurried to the kitchen to prepare the broth.
Seeing my obedience, Jack’s face softened with approval.
“Emily Lopez, understand this; only Deborah deserves to bear my child.”
“Tend to her well. After delivery, we’ll register the baby under our names. It’ll call you mother, you—”
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Chapter 1
Before he finished, Deborah winced. The bowl slipped from her hands, scalding broth spattering everywhere.
“Ouch! So hot…”
Jack instantly slapped me, snarling:
“You jealous witch! Did you burn her on purpose?”
He swept all glasses off the long table, lifting Deborah onto it while frantically checking her legs-
As if the sky itself were collapsing.
Yet days earlier, after my induced abortion, I’d knelt begging him to spare our ancestral chapel.
He kicked me to the ground for delaying his movie date with Deborah.
That caused my second massive hemorrhage.
I pleaded for a doctor, but he called it an act and walked away.
Calling me bad luck, he shielded Deborah’s eyes and left.
My heart had long been pierced full of holes by his daily favoritism.
All guests now stared-mocking, indifferent, reveling in the spectacle.
288 Vouchers
Over these three years, I’ve endured countless scornful looks, all because I’d secretly loved Jack for years-a toad lusting after a swan.
Finally, through careful scheming and leveraging a life-saving favor, I married into wealth.
My crush on Jack was real, but my true reason for marrying him was different.
I just covered my face, wanting to leave, but Jack yanked my hair and threw me down.
Shattered glass cut my palms, blood gushing out.
Jack frowned sharply:
“Did I say you could leave?”
“Apologize to Deborah now!”
Mocking laughter erupted around me again.
I struggled up, biting my lower lip hard.
I knew he was avenging Deborah. If I refused, he’d find new ways to torment me.
His bottomless favoritism toward Deborah-I’d learned it well over the years.
Right now, I just wanted to leave fast. Nothing else mattered.
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Chapter 1
Helplessly. I sighed and said “I’m sorry” with sincerity.
Then I turned to Jack and asked:
“Should I cook more Herb-infused Broth?”
Jack saw my hands bleeding against my chest, pity flickering in his eyes.
But at Deborah’s mournful sigh, his expression hardened:
“Emily, you got lucky this time. Hurt Deborah again, and no one saves you-not even Terry!”
Just then, Deborah clutched her chest, looking pained.
Panicked, Jack scooped her up and rushed to the hospital.
Watching them leave, I finally breathed easy.
But when I hurried outside, I found my parents’ urn missing….
I searched everywhere, frantic.
Across the street, a private jet’s propellers kept whirring.
As I reached for my phone, bodyguards suddenly returned and shoved me into a car.
I fought wildly, ordering them to release me.
No one listened.
“Jack’s car got rear-ended. Miss Deborah shielded him and got hurt. They’re rushing her to surgery. Jack demands you
come.”
My heart sank, sensing disaster.
Three years ago, Terry tasked me to investigate Jack’s mysterious car plunge.
I’d just found leads but hadn’t reported to Terry when Jack crashed again-coincidence or plot?
At the hospital, Jack pointed at me urgently.
“Take her comea and blood. She matches Deborah’s type.”
The doctor recognized me, frowning:
“She just had an abortion with two hemorrhages. More blood loss and comea removal could kill her.”
Jack suddenly raged, slamming the doctor against the wall.
“My family owns this hospital! I decide whose cornea we use—it’s just one! What’s the fuss?”
“If Deborah or the baby suffers, none of you escape!”
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Turns out Deborah hit her head-her laser-treated cornea detached, and she broke an arm.
Terrified, I stared in disbelief:
“Jack, Deborah caused my miscarriage. I won’t give her my cornea.”
Jack shot me an icy glare:
“You lost that baby yourself, yet blame Deborah? After she begged me to comfort you!”
“If you want your parents’ ashes back, you’d better behave!”
Their ashes…
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