It's been three months since I parted ways with my sugar daddy. He bumped into me on a European street, supporting my pregnant belly as I walked out of a hospital. "Quite ambitious, just too stupid," the man evaluated coldly. He had his assistant pass on a message and toss me a bank card, ordering me to abort the child. "Mr. Sterling won't be manipulated by a child, and the Sterling family won't open its doors for a bastard. He hopes you know your place and don't entertain any other thoughts." I politely declined the card and smiled. "You've misunderstood. This is my husband's and my child." "We got married two months ago. It has absolutely nothing to do with Mr. Sterling." 1 Winters in London are always dreary and cold; the street wind inexplicably stings the face. Hearing my words, Assistant Lin's expression didn't change at all. He only put on a slightly surprised look and said, "Is that so?" Having been by Arthur Sterling's side for so long, his ability to read people had grown exponentially. The eyes behind his glasses swept over my lower abdomen, and he asked respectfully, "How many weeks pregnant are you, Ms. Davis?" "About twelve weeks." He nodded slightly, still wearing a polite but distant smile. "Then the timing is a bit too coincidental with when you left Mr. Sterling." As Arthur's most trusted assistant, he had seen far too many women use any means necessary to stay by Arthur's side. I looked down and pulled out my phone. "I have my wedding photos with my husband right here." But he politely interrupted me: "That doesn't prove anything." "Mr. Sterling has a strict taboo against illegitimate children. I hope you keep that in mind, Ms. Davis." "Otherwise, Mr. Sterling wouldn't mind putting you on the abortion operating table for a second time." My fingertips gripping the phone stiffened. I looked up slightly. The first snow of the year was slowly drifting down. I met the dark, cold gaze of the man standing by the floor-to-ceiling window of the high-rise building. He was scrutinizing me from above, perhaps waiting for me to be caught in a lie again, looking pale and embarrassed. He was used to being the one in control, and my pregnancy was undoubtedly another challenge to his bottom line. I put my phone away, exhaled deeply, and turned to tell Assistant Lin, "Please inform Mr. Sterling that I won't make the same mistake twice." My tone was gentle, but I said earnestly, "I have no lingering attachment to the child I aborted, nor do I have any thoughts of using a child to elevate my status or fight for the family fortune." "This is, truly and completely, just my husband's and my child." 2 I had indeed been pregnant with Arthur's child once. That was my sixth year by his side. A little life sharing my blood took root in my belly, miraculously igniting my passion for life again. At seventeen, I left my hometown for the big city to pay off my father's gambling debts. I spent years working as a hostess in the glittering, decadent nightlife scene. My life had been full of ups and downs; I had no family around and even fewer friends. That was the first time I was so bold. I hid it from Arthur, intending to keep the baby. Until one night at a business dinner, while drinking on his behalf, I threw up several times. A woman brought by one of the vice presidents joked about whether I was pregnant. I clearly saw Arthur's brow furrow imperceptibly, his sharp, scrutinizing gaze landing on my stomach. He didn't allow any accidents in his life. This sudden pregnancy stepped on every single one of his landmines. Not to mention, I had hidden it from him for so long. That was the first time he ever lost his temper with me. Through gritted teeth, dripping with sarcasm, he said, "I underestimated you, Chloe. You've got some nerve." He coldly threw me out of the villa and declared: "I'm giving you one night to reflect. If you still can't understand your place, then pack your things and get out early!" It happened to be snowing that night. The biting cold wind whipped against my face. I looked out at the vast expanse of white, touched my slightly swollen belly, and, with red eyes, let out a very soft breath. The tension I had carried for three months finally relaxed. This wasn't necessarily a bad thing. I thought to myself, feigning relief. I was probably the only one among his many mistresses who didn't get a breakup fee and managed to make him angry. The fetus was already twelve weeks along. A forced abortion could cause cervical tearing. Plus, years of drinking had left my body too weak. The doctor said that if I went through with the abortion, I might never be able to have children again. But the man just stubbed out his cigarette, his dark eyes devoid of any emotion, and replied flatly, "What does that have to do with me?" Raising an illegitimate child wasn't a difficult thing in their circle. Even his snobbish, elite friends half-jokingly advised him that he could just have the baby and send it abroad to be raised. "After all, you're in your thirties, and she's been the only one by your side all these years. Having a kid is a good thing." Arthur didn't say a word. Later, after a few rounds of drinks. Someone, a bit tipsy, teased, "No way, Arthur. You've kept her around for so many years. Don't tell me you haven't felt even a little bit of genuine affection?" Someone else probed, "Or are you still thinking about Elena?" Regarding this "first love" who went abroad in their youth and disappeared without a trace, Arthur just gave a cold glance: "This has nothing to do with her." When the topic circled back to me, he answered carelessly, "She's just easy on the eyes, so I kept her around for a few extra years." A lowly hostess was only fit to be a mistress, not a wife. He wouldn't want a child with such low status. I was obedient from beginning to end. I didn't shed a single tear the day I went to the hospital. Later, because of massive hemorrhaging, my life hung by a thread on the operating table. I stayed in the ICU for several weeks before finally pulling through. The day I was discharged, he made a rare exception and pushed back a meeting to see me. Dressed in a crisp, dark trench coat, his gaze cold, the man made things as clear as possible: "Chloe, I will never marry you." "I will only ever have a legitimate heir, not an unpresentable bastard." I slowly pursed my pale lips and gave him a faint smile: "I know." That was what he liked most about me. Tactful, sensible, and obedient enough. Outside, the snow fell silently, the howling cold wind battering the tightly sealed glass windows. From 17 to 27. I suddenly realized this was the tenth year of snow I had seen in this city. A woman's best years were left right here. Perhaps because my attitude in admitting my mistake was so good, and because I had just walked through the gates of hell, he didn't hold a grudge. The heat was on in the private hospital room. The man's cold, harsh features gradually softened as he took an apple and began peeling it. "I had my assistant pick out some bags and jewelry for you. They'll be sent to your place soon." I quietly watched the apple peel curl round and round. Moisture gathered in my stinging, red eyes, but I tried my hardest to hold it back. There was still some snow on the man's long eyelashes. His expression was cold and serious, his movements meticulous. "You'll only be with me for a few more years. When I enter an arranged marriage, I'll naturally let you go." He handed a slice of apple to my lips, making a rare exception to lower his voice and coax me: "Chloe, be good. I won't treat you poorly, hmm?" 3 He truly never treated me poorly. The ten years I spent by his side were undoubtedly the most glamorous and proudest moments of my life. Even at the very end, when Elena appeared. He never caused me any embarrassment. I brushed the snow off my shoulder and told Assistant Lin, "To put Mr. Sterling's mind at ease, I'll go get a prenatal paternity test in a couple of days." "Then please let me know when you do, Ms. Davis. I'll accompany you." It was obvious he was afraid I'd use a fake result to fool them. I nodded: "Of course." He smiled and handed me a business card, not forgetting to add a warning: "If you need anything, Ms. Davis, just contact me. Mr. Sterling is preparing to get married, so please know your boundaries. The new Mrs. Sterling is very particular about these things." Actually, there was no need to worry. Before I left, I had already deleted all of Arthur's contact information, changed my phone number and private WeChat, and even sold the apartment he had arranged for me. If it weren't for this chance encounter on the street today. I thought we probably would never have contact again for the rest of our lives. And the new Mrs. Sterling was probably that first love of his who had just returned to the country. I forced a smile and nodded: "Then please wish Mr. Sterling a happy marriage for me." The snow in the sky drifted down heavily. I buried my face in my scarf, turned, and walked alone down the snowy street toward home. That dark, cold gaze from the high-rise followed me the entire way. Many years ago, on a snowy night, when he was carrying a drunken me down the street, he had explicitly stated that he would only ever have an arranged marriage. Any relationship that couldn't generate practical value was just a temporary consumable. He required a match in social status and class compatibility to maximize benefits. Keeping me was just a clearly priced transaction. I remained clear-headed while simultaneously sinking deeper. But it wasn't until today that I suddenly realized. Principles were established for substitutes like us. But the first love existed outside of those principles. Even if she had nothing, she would still receive his favoritism. 5 No one knew why this first love, who had gone abroad in her youth and disappeared without a trace, suddenly reappeared. But I knew. I had an absurd dream. In the dream, she was a "system conqueror." After maxing out Arthur's affection meter, she returned to her original world. She got married and had kids there, but because of a difficult life and her husband's infidelity, she chose to return to Arthur. Just to verify if Arthur still loved her. Before I left, she specifically asked to meet me. In the cafe, the woman wore a white dress, completely makeup-free, discreetly observing my outfit and appearance. Although she tried her hardest to emulate the pure and innocent look of her youth, the exhaustion and calculation in her eyes couldn't be faked. In contrast, I was nourished well by money, exuding a lazy, quiet aura of someone who never had to worry about making a living. This sparked an indescribable resentment and anger in her. She only asked me three questions. "How long have you two been together, or rather, how long have you been by his side?" Holding my coffee cup, I spoke slowly and clearly: "Nine years and six months." In the seventh year I was with Arthur, we had a six-month period of no contact. Some said he was getting an arranged marriage; others said he found a substitute who looked even more like her. Just when I thought this relationship was completely severed. Assistant Lin suddenly contacted me one day. After an intense, passionate night of intimacy. He tacitly allowed me to occupy the most important position by his side, and I was the only one left around him. The woman in front of me looked displeased. She didn't want to hear such a clear timeline. But she still tried her best to curl her lips, pretending not to care at all: "That long, huh?" "Did you guys do it?" This was her second question. I froze. She quickly realized the question was a bit ridiculous. After all, it was ten years, and Arthur was a normal man. It was impossible for him not to have desires. But I didn't mind telling her some things she wanted to hear: "For the first five years, no." Arthur did indeed wait for her. As if finally finding her weight in Arthur's heart, she let out a relieved breath. Her smile became a bit more genuine as she playfully complained, "Is that so? Then I really came back too late." She quickly asked the final question: "Do you guys kiss when you do it?" Kissing and caressing should be exclusive to lovers. She desperately needed this to prove something. In the stagnant air, she stared intently at the changes in my expression. I spaced out for a moment, then answered very quickly: "No." Her tense fingertips suddenly relaxed, and all the nervousness and worry retreated like the tide. Replaced by a victor's flippancy and smugness. "Okay, I understand now. Thanks for taking care of Arthur all these years." She finally put on a generous smile, assuming the posture of the main character, her tone carrying a hint of intimate complaint: "He has a cold personality and doesn't really know how to care for people. You must have suffered a lot of grievances." I didn't deny it, just gave a soft "Mhm." Because I had long anticipated this day, I didn't have much of an emotional reaction. In the nightlife scene, I had seen too many devoted girls who thought that keeping someone company long enough would earn them an official title, only to end up in a bitter falling out and getting warned off by the legitimate wife. I figured that, as a substitute who couldn't see the light of day, I was already lucky enough. However. I lied to her about one thing. Arthur didn't resist kissing. Especially for emotions that could be solved with a single kiss, he wouldn't waste time and money trying to figure them out. Occasionally, when he was satiated, he would hold me and lazily peck at my lips. It wasn't exactly deeply emotional. But in such moments tinged with warmth. It always gave me the illusion that he and I were just a normal couple. You see, women are always moved by these incredibly ordinary little things, and eventually, willingly fall into the trap. Even I was not exempt.
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