My Husband Implanted His Mistress's Child In My Womb

The following morning, Maxwell was out the door bright and early.

His assistant was in search of him, and the calls somehow ended up being redirected to me. But I couldn't care less; all I wanted was to take Marie to the hospital for the paternity test.

After handing in the required paperwork, I sat in the hallway waiting for the results. Gazing at my daughter, her uncanny resemblance to Amalia was overwhelming. This whole situation felt surreal, yet Maxwell's demeanor left me anxious. I needed to see the report with my own eyes.

Before I could gather my thoughts, I looked up and there were Maxwell and Amalia.

Spotting me, Amalia retreated behind Maxwell.

"Aurelia, what brings you here?"

"Maxwell just ran into me, don't read too much into it."

Her words felt more like a nervous confession than anything reassuring. Maxwell's smile vanished the moment he noticed me.

With a rigid expression, he asked, "Aurelia, are you spying on me?"

"I've told you countless times, Amalia is like a sister to me. Can you stop with the paranoia?"

I gave them both a cold stare. Just then, my phone buzzed, indicating the report was ready for pickup. I switched off the screen and headed to the lab.

Ignoring Maxwell, he frowned and quickly caught up to grab my arm.

"Amalia twisted her ankle yesterday, I'm just here to help her."

I glanced at Amalia.

"And a sprained ankle justifies spending the whole night with someone else's husband, does it?"

"Or are you implying that she has also, like me, once broken both legs?"

Maxwell's explanation hit a roadblock, and he clammed up.

Two years ago, a terrible accident took place. A truck lost control and smashed into my car. Trapped under the wreckage, I desperately called Maxwell—not hoping for rescue, but to express my love before the end.

What did I get? I called over ten times with no response.

When I finally reached him, teetering on the brink of despair, he picked up. I managed to tell him I was in an accident and might not survive. Rather than concern, he met me with annoyance.

"Aurelia, why do you keep calling? I'm busy."

"If you're trying to grab my attention with this, expect divorce papers!"

I didn't dare disturb him further and braced for death alone. Luckily, the rescue team arrived just in time. I survived, narrowly escaping before the truck exploded.

However, my legs were crushed for too long; shattered bones required months to heal before I could walk again. Only a few months ago did I learn what had occupied Maxwell—organizing a welcome party for Amalia, who had just returned from abroad. Due to my severe injuries, my legs still throb with pain whenever it rains.

Maxwell was tongue-tied, unable to justify himself. He attempted to speak again, but I cut him off.

"I have things to attend to. Take good care of your girlfriend."

With that, I briskly made my way down the corridor.