The Billionaire's Betrayal A Wife's Revenge

"You deliberately put it under my pillow. Of course I could see it."

That bikini with water stains on it, and the body-shaped outlines pressed out on the glass—there was no way to miss them.

The fresh red marks on Lily's neck were deliberately shown through the collar that was never properly buttoned.

She was coming to provoke me.

Compared to the previous seven mistresses, Lily was more high-profile. Pretty features, an innocent purity about her, plus the ambition in her eyes that she didn't bother to hide.

It looked very familiar.

Eight years ago when I first met Alex, I was just like this.

Fearless. Reckless. And in the end, like a moth flying into the flame.

Thinking of the past, my heart was full of sarcasm.

I reached out and patted the back of her hand, speaking earnestly: "For the sake of us both being women, and for the sake of you having a child, I'll give you one sincere piece of advice."

"If I were you, I wouldn't choose such sexy underwear."

"He likes you because he happens to be missing someone innocent by his side. If you want to show off sexiness, there are plenty of women sexier than you."

After all, no matter how sexy she was, she wasn't as sexy as Alex's second mistress.

An international model, with nine-head proportions.

Three months after our child died, the media photographed her having a passionate night in a car.

They used up seven condoms.

Less than three days after I saw the report, Alex brought her into the house. She stood right where Lily was standing now, kowtowed to me, served tea, and I gave her an identical diamond bracelet.

Lily had obviously heard of the second mistress. She bit her lip unwillingly, suspicious of my purpose in saying these things.

Hearing Alex come back after hanging up the phone, I bent down and spoke close to her ear, passing on a few more points of experience: "From my experience, what Alex likes most is excitement and novelty—especially doing it by the window on thunderstorm days."

"However, you're pregnant. For the child's sake, you should sleep in separate rooms."

"After you give birth, there will be plenty of opportunities."

I saw the suspicion in her eyes disappear completely.

It turned into secret delight instead.

I turned to look out the window, then headed upstairs.

"I heard there's going to be a hurricane in a few days."

I hadn't gone far when I heard Alex say he was going to the Harbor District to see Sophie.

After Lily coquettishly acted unhappy, I heard the sound of a belt being undone, and her broken, intermittent panting.

I turned around in satisfaction, and suddenly heard Lily ask in a low voice.

"Darling, what she said just now about not letting me be intimate with you—was she jealous of me? Our baby is so well-behaved, nothing will happen, right?"

Alex lazily held her, and let out a careless snort: "Don't mind her. She hasn't been pregnant for years—what does she know?"

"Married eight years and no child? Is there something wrong with her?"

"There used to be. The child died in an accident."

My movement going upstairs paused. I didn't turn back.

Only the hand I had on the railing clenched so hard it hurt.

What Alex said after that, I didn't hear.

Back in the room.

Closing the door, I saw the child's innocent, adorable smile in the photo frame, and all the calmness I had maintained scattered completely.

My eyes swelled.

My nails dug into my palm. It hurt, but it wasn't even one ten-thousandth of the pain in my chest.

Alex didn't just forget that today was my birthday.

He also forgot that today was our child Ethan's death anniversary.

Six years ago, I was at the hospital taking care of my critically ill father.

When I got home, I found Ethan unconscious from an allergic reaction, his throat swollen, not waking up.

Even though I did first aid immediately and sent him to the hospital, he still gradually went stiff, and lay in the morgue ice-cold.