His Secretary Took My Room — I Left Him with the Baby

After they left, I endured the pain in my abdomen long enough to call the Whitmore Group Subsidiary’s project partner and cancel the upcoming cooperation with Daniel Reed’s company. Then I headed to the law firm to discuss filing a lawsuit against Sophie Lane and Daniel for intentional harm.

“Claire! Where are you? Get to the hospital—Sophie’s in trouble!”

I hung up immediately, but Daniel still found me. He had bodyguards force me into the car.

“What were you doing at the law firm?”

Before I could answer, he ordered the driver to speed toward the hospital.

On the way, he rambled incoherently—Sophie had suddenly collapsed at home, and the hospital diagnosed her with anemia. She urgently needed a blood transfusion, but her blood type was the rare Rh-negative, and the blood bank was running out.

“The doctor says her baby is affected too—she needs blood immediately!” Daniel’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel. “I’ve called all my friends—none have the right type. Claire, you’re Rh-negative, aren’t you? Help Sophie… and help her baby!”

My stomach dropped, and I instinctively shielded my belly. “Daniel, I’m seven months pregnant. The doctor said my placenta is low—donating blood could be dangerous for me!”

“It’s just a little! You’ll be fine!” He slammed the brakes, the car screeching to a stop at the hospital entrance. “Sophie’s carrying my child—she’s my only way to get in with the Whitmores! Think about it—if you help her now, once I’ve earned Mr. Whitmore’s favor, in the future we—”

“We?” I looked into his eyes, wide with undisguised urgency, and felt only cold disbelief. “Daniel, what about the baby I’m carrying? Have you even thought about the risk to me?”

“You can have another child later!” His patience snapped. Grabbing my wrist, he dragged me toward the ER. “But if something happens to Sophie now, I’m finished! Claire Whitmore, I’m begging you—just this once!”

I fought to break free, my wrist aching from his grip. “No! Daniel, let me go! The doctor said I can’t give blood!”

But he acted like he didn’t hear me, forcing me into the transfusion room. The nurse glanced at my heavily pregnant belly with visible hesitation. “Mr. Reed, at this stage of pregnancy, blood donation carries a very high risk—”

“I’ll take the risk! I’ll be responsible if anything happens!” Daniel cut her off, glaring at me with a sharp, almost feral look. “If you refuse, you’re as good as killing me and Sophie’s baby!”

When the cold needle pierced my skin, I trembled all over. As the blood flowed through the tubing, the baby inside me suddenly kicked violently, followed by the sharpest cramp I had ever felt.

“It hurts… Daniel, my stomach—” Sweat poured down my face. I clutched his arm, pleading, “Stop, please! My baby—”

Daniel’s eyes stayed fixed on the blood bag’s rising volume. He shook off my hand impatiently. “Hold on—it’s almost done. Sophie’s life is on the line!”

It wasn’t until the nurse gasped, “The patient’s turning pale—she’s going into labor!” that panic flickered in his eyes. But by then, the blood bag was nearly full, my vision was fading, and a warm gush spread beneath me.

“Quick! Prep the delivery room—she’s going into premature labor!”

As they rushed me into surgery, the last thing I saw was Daniel standing in the hallway, caught between my emergency room and Sophie’s ward. After a few seconds of hesitation, he turned and ran to Sophie.

When I woke again, the sting of antiseptic filled my nose, making me cough. The bassinet beside me was empty. A nurse, her eyes red, told me gently, “Ma’am… I’m so sorry. The baby was too premature. He… he never breathed.”

It was as if someone had carved a piece out of my chest—so deep I couldn’t even feel the pain.

At some point, Daniel had returned, sitting at my bedside, his eyes rimmed red. He took my hand and choked out, “Claire, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean for this to happen…”

He awkwardly pulled the blanket up over me, speaking in a tentative, coaxing tone. “Don’t worry—once I’ve taken care of Sophie and gotten the Whitmores’ approval, I’ll make it up to you. I’ll give you a better life…”

I stared at him, numb, watching him play the role of the devoted husband. It was nothing short of a cruel joke.

Make it up to me? With what?

Our child was gone. The last tie between us had been severed completely.

What he didn’t know was that the Whitmore recognition he so desperately craved, the favor he’d hoped to earn with that unborn child, had died along with my baby.

I quietly pulled my hand away, gazing out at the pale sky beyond the window, my palm resting over my now-flat stomach.

Daniel Reed, your good days are over.

My sweet baby… Mommy will avenge you.