One Too Many Red Flags

Phoebe couldn't understand it. How had their relationship come to this?

From the moment she and Nathan met, fell in love, and eventually married, they had always been the couple everyone envied.

When he proposed, holding her hand tightly, he had promised her with such solemn sincerity, "They say men change after marriage, but don't worry, Phoebe. Even after we get married, I won't change. I'll spoil you, indulge you, and make sure you'll always be the princess in our fairy tale."

And after they married, he had kept his word. He treated her with the same devotion as when he had first pursued her. Every day, he sent her flowers and often surprised her with thoughtful gifts. Whatever she wanted appeared on her bedside table the next day without her even needing to ask.

It was as if he could read her mind.

Even her closest friends, the ones who always viewed things with a skeptical eye, praised him, calling him a one-in-a-million husband.

But this one-in-a-million husband had still cheated on her.

Was it really, as Clara had claimed, because her body had changed after she became pregnant? Had her weight gain and stretch marks made her less desirable?

Phoebe lowered her head, gazing at her swollen belly. Faint stretch marks curled across the taut skin.

Ugly. They were ugly. Yet before the pregnancy, she had a slender waist and pale, flawless skin, just like Clara. Her stomach had been flat, without the heavy roundness or the unsightly lines marring her body now.

How ironic. She had been willing to sacrifice her figure and endure all the discomfort of pregnancy to give Nathan a child, and in return, he betrayed her.

"Madam, this is fresh black-bone chicken soup with fish maw. Your mother-in-law said it's good for the baby. Please drink it while it's hot," the housekeeper said, carrying a tray toward her.

Alongside the steaming bowl of soup, there was a plate of shelled walnuts and a heaping dish of grapes.

Her mother-in-law had heard that eating grapes during pregnancy would give the baby large, beautiful eyes, while walnuts were said to boost brain development. Determined to have a smart and adorable grandchild, she had instructed the housekeeper to ensure Phoebe ate them every day. If she didn't, the phone calls would come immediately.

"If you didn't know better, you'd think I was forcing poison down your throat," her mother-in-law had once said, her voice half-joking but sharp beneath the surface. "I'm doing this for my grandson. You're not a young girl anymore, you're a mother-to-be. You can't be selfish. It's not just about your preferences now. You need to think about the baby. I'm doing this for your own good. Don't act like I'm trying to hurt you."

Those words echoed relentlessly in Phoebe's mind. Before, no matter how much she disliked the food, she would have forced herself to eat it just to avoid conflict.

But now—

"Take it away," she said, turning her face to the side. "I'm not hungry."

"Even if you're not hungry, you should still eat. Your mother-in-law had this flown in from overseas. It's organic and supposed to be good for the baby," the housekeeper insisted, pushing the tray closer to her.

Just then, Phoebe's phone vibrated again. Another message from Clara.

She had sent an address, followed by a taunting question. [Hey fatty, dare to come?]

Phoebe tightened her grip on the phone.

There was nothing holding her in this house anymore. She might as well go and see for herself.

She drove in silence, following the address Clara had sent. It led her to an auction house.

Frowning, she wondered why Nathan would choose a public place like this to meet his mistress. But before she could think further, she spotted Clara stepping into the front row, arm-in-arm with an elegant woman draped in expensive jewelry.

That woman was Bethany Marshal—Phoebe's mother-in-law.