The Billionaire's Abandoned Wife Her Revenge Rebirth

I'd carried this debt for seven years, willing to spend all that time repaying it—yet I still never fulfilled the contract's requirement of getting pregnant.

I knew the truth in my heart: a family like the Gilberts would eventually need an heir.

And I just couldn't give them that.

Now that seven years had passed, I had no reason to keep occupying the position of Mrs. Gilbert and delay the family line.

I pulled out my phone and found Richard's contact:

"Chairman Gilbert, thank you for saving my life seven years ago. I've already repaid the one million in full. I want to leave the Gilbert family. I hope you'll grant it."

Shortly after sending, Richard replied.

Just one line:

"You've thought it through?"

My fingertips paused, but I still typed:

"I've thought it through."

His response came quickly:

"Since you've decided, I respect your choice."

When I put my phone away, I met Ethan's puzzled gaze. He frowned. "Who were you texting?"

I shook my head slightly and didn't explain.

After all these years, no matter what I said, he never cared.

Seeing I wouldn't answer, he didn't push—just added flatly, "My dad's 60th birthday is in two days. Be there on time."

I didn't respond, but I'd already made my decision.

Richard had always treated me well. Even if I'd decided to leave, attending his birthday was something I owed him.

I'd treat it as the last time I celebrated with him. One final repayment.

That afternoon, I went out specifically to pick a gift for Richard's banquet.

I remembered he'd always loved collecting famous paintings. The rare pieces in his study were all things he'd gone to great lengths to acquire.

With that in mind, I drove to a private gallery on the west side of the city, where works by a renowned traditional painting master were being sold.

Once the owner learned why I was there, he enthusiastically brought out a new piece by the master—pines and cranes symbolizing longevity. The meaning was perfect for a birthday gift.

I studied it carefully. It really would suit Richard's taste. Just as I was about to pay, the gallery door swung open.

Two familiar figures walked in—Ethan and Victoria Donaldson.

Among Ethan's many lovers, Victoria wasn't the most stunning, but she was the most persistent.

She was the only woman who'd had three abortions for him and still stayed by his side.

Right now, she was leaning against him, her lower belly slightly rounded—clearly pregnant again.

Ethan's gaze landed on the painting in my hands. The owner had just stepped forward to introduce it when Ethan spoke, his tone commanding:

"We'll take this painting."

He handed the owner a bank card, then turned to me. "Alex, pick another one."

I kept my expression cold and said nothing.

Victoria's voice came out sweet and delicate. "Alex, let me have it. This painting can be the first blessing the baby sends to Grandpa."

The owner had already run the card. Victoria stepped forward, reaching for the painting in my hands.

I gripped it tighter, about to refuse—but she leaned in and whispered, her voice low enough for only me to hear:

"Alex, aren't you curious why you've been with Ethan for seven years and still can't get pregnant?"

My heart clenched. A terrible premonition washed over me.

Seeing my face go pale, her smile turned smug.

"Because every time after you two finish, Ethan slips you birth control pills."