Chapter 1

"Julian, it hurts so much... It's all your fault for being so rough in the car earlier. I think I'm torn down there!"

Clutching the ultrasound report I had just received, I stood in the corridor, watching my husband hold another woman in his arms.

The woman was wearing sunglasses, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear. Instead of being embarrassed, my husband looked utterly heartbroken for her, coaxing her tenderly.

The crowd stirred, whispering and murmuring among themselves. "Wait, who is actually Mrs. Foster?"

The next second, Julian Foster looked up, his gaze cutting straight through the crowd and locking onto mine. He paused for barely half a second before averting his eyes and saying coldly—

"What are you looking at? Anna is Julian Foster's wife."

I trembled all over, the ultrasound report in my hand crushed into a crumpled ball of waste paper.

Six weeks. Our baby was six weeks old.

But this man... I didn't want him anymore.

Yolanda Vance's POV

I was in the waiting area of the obstetrics and gynecology department at St. Mary's Hospital, clutching a thin ultrasound report in my hand. The report clearly showed a tiny gestational sac—the crystallization of love that Julian Foster and I had been hoping for for three years.

"Congratulations, you are six weeks pregnant." The young nurse handed me my medical record, her eyes shining with irrepressible excitement and envy. "I never expected to see you here! I've watched the movie you won Best Actress for over a dozen times. But seeing how happy your family is now, and how good Mr. Foster is to you, it was definitely worth leaving the entertainment industry for love."

I forced a gentle smile and offered a word of thanks.

Happy?

I looked down at my lower abdomen, but a quiet sense of unease bloomed in my chest.

Two hours ago, Julian Foster had promised over the phone that he would pick me up in person so we could celebrate this good news together. But up until now, his phone had been completely unreachable, and he had not shown up.

Ever since Julian Foster won the Best Director Award for the movie that I had half-written and used all my connections to secure funding for, he had grown busier and increasingly distant.

"Ms. Vance, you can rest on the bench outside while you wait for Mr. Foster to pick you up," the nurse said thoughtfully.

I nodded. Just as I stepped out of the examination room, a loud commotion broke out at the end of the corridor.

"Out of the way! Everyone get out of the way! Call your director over! Prepare the best VIP suite!"

Several bodyguards roughly pushed aside the crowd blocking their path, throwing the corridor into instant chaos.

A few young nurses at the nurse's station poked their heads out and gasped. "Oh my god, it's Mr. Foster! He said Mrs. Foster is injured and wants a VIP suite arranged immediately!"

"Mrs. Foster?" The nurse who had just handed me my report froze, turning to look at me standing nearby. "But... isn't Mrs. Foster right here?"

My heart violently skipped a beat. I peered through the gaps in the crowd, and my breathing instantly ceased.

The man surrounded by bodyguards was none other than the husband I had been waiting two hours for, Julian Foster.

And at this moment, Julian Foster was carrying a young, beautiful woman in his arms. The woman was wearing sunglasses, but I recognized her instantly. Anna Sterling, the third female lead newly promoted in Julian Foster's new drama crew.

"Julian, it hurts so bad..." Anna Sterling squirmed coquettishly in Julian's arms, her voice loud enough for everyone around to hear. "It's all your fault for going so hard in the car just now. You tore me up down there and pulled a muscle. I hate you!"

These words exploded like a clap of thunder in the quiet corridor. The surrounding crowd cast shocked and gossipy looks.

Instead of feeling embarrassed, Julian lowered his head and coaxed her, his face full of heartache. "It's my fault. I was too impatient. Be good, I'll have the doctor look at you right away."

Slap!

As if still unsatisfied, Anna Sterling raised her hand and delivered a crisp slap to Julian Foster's face.

A dead silence fell over the entire hall.

I stared unblinkingly at the scene, the blood in my body seemingly drained in an instant, as if I had been plunged into an ice cellar.

I knew Julian Foster too well. Born into poverty, his self-esteem was incredibly fierce, even to a pathological and warped degree. He absolutely would not tolerate anyone acting insultingly toward him. Once, when we were joking around, I had playfully patted his face; Julian Foster had flown into a rage, smashed everything in the house, and refused to speak to me for an entire half-month.

But now, in front of so many people, he actually let Anna Sterling slap him without even knitting his brows. There was nothing but endless indulgence and doting in his eyes.

"Who on earth is Mrs. Foster?" someone nearby gasped in shock.

This exclamation was exceptionally piercing in the empty corridor.

Julian Foster looked up, his gaze cutting through the crowd to collide directly with my red, disbelieving eyes.

The air seemed to freeze at this very moment.

Julian Foster's footsteps paused for only half a second. There was no panic of a husband caught red-handed in his eyes, no guilt—only a chilling indifference.

He withdrew his gaze, holding Anna Sterling, and walked straight past me. The moment we brushed shoulders, his cold voice drifted into my ears and hammered into everyone's hearts. "What's there to look at? Anna is Julian Foster's wife."

I trembled all over, the ultrasound report in my hand crushed into a crumpled ball of waste paper.

"Julian Foster!" I finally reached my limit, my voice cracking with anger and grief. "Do you even know what you're saying?!"

Julian Foster stopped walking. Without looking back, he simply threw down a cold line. "Yolanda Vance, let's get a divorce."