Theater: NovelMaster | Language: English
Synopsis
Six years ago, I took a fatal blow for Jonathan Hayes. He held me and swore that in this life, he would only ever love me.
I never imagined that while the entire internet praised him as the ultimate devoted husband, he had already been keeping a mistress behind my back for five years—and even had a five-year-old son!
And when my child was born, I could only lie alone in the ICU.
In one week, I will leave for Europe to take over my family's empire.
He seems to have forgotten that his success was given to him by me, and I have the power to take it back.
The business empire he is so proud of is already teetering on the brink of collapse.
Vivian Sterling POV
In our sixth year of marriage, Jonathan Hayes became the widely acclaimed CEO of Hayes Group.
On the covers of financial magazines, he was a young, brilliant prodigy.
In high society, he was the model husband who loved only me.
Until today, when I saw my husband—who was supposed to be away on a business trip—outside a private dining room at a restaurant.
The door was slightly ajar.
A man held a little boy of about five years old over his head, making the child giggle uncontrollably.
"Daddy! Higher! I want to touch the ceiling!" the little boy shouted.
Jonathan supported the boy under his arms and affectionately tapped the tip of his nose:
"I work so hard earning money out there just to buy a big castle for you and Mommy. You have to be a good boy and listen to her."
On the sofa nearby sat a gentle, delicate young woman.
Her eyes were full of adoration as she looked at Jonathan, naturally reaching out to smooth a wrinkle from his jacket:
"Jonathan, you rushed straight here right after getting off the plane without even resting. Don't spoil him so much."
"He's my son. Who else is going to spoil him?" Jonathan chuckled warmly, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek, earning a coy, playful swat from her.
Boom.
I froze outside the door. It felt as though countless steel needles were stabbing into my ears, leaving my mind completely blank.
Daddy? Mommy? His son?
The boy's features were practically carved from the same mold as Jonathan's.
That boy was at least five years old.
Then what about five years ago?
Five years ago was the most grueling period of Jonathan's startup.
My fingers began to tremble uncontrollably, and subconsciously, through my coat, I pressed my hand against my lower abdomen.
There, a scar nearly twenty centimeters long stretched across my skin.
In the late autumn five years ago, Jonathan's business dealings offended a prominent local boss.
The man swung a steel pipe, intending to break Jonathan's arms and cripple him.
It was me who threw myself forward without hesitation, shielding Jonathan beneath my body.
The steel pipe struck my abdomen violently, causing internal organ ruptures, massive hemorrhaging, and shock.
I spent three days and nights in critical condition in the ICU, where not only was my uterus removed,
but I was also dealt the devastating news that I was permanently infertile.
I would never forget the moment I woke up after surviving the ordeal.
Jonathan fell to his knees before my hospital bed, slapping himself like a madman in front of all the doctors and nurses, sobbing in anguish:
"All I need in this life is you! If I ever betray you, may God punish me!"
Those vows still echoed in my ears.
Yet reality had turned into the tender scene before me, striking across my face like a vicious slap, turning six years of devotion and trust into a complete joke!
While Jonathan, with rimmed red eyes, told the public he chose to be child-free just to stand by me—earning himself a stellar reputation as a devoted lover—
he had already taken a mistress behind my back and fathered an heir!
How ironic.
He wanted his persona as the devoted husband, yet he also wanted an heir.
He wanted the fortune secretly paved by my family, yet he also wanted his inflated vanity!
I stumbled back two steps, my fingernails digging deep into my palms, yet I couldn't feel the slightest pain.
I didn't barge in to make a scene.
I was a daughter of the Sterling family. The pride and dignity etched into my bones would never allow me to act like a lunatic, losing my composure before a mistress and an illegitimate child.
I bit down hard on my lower lip until I tasted the heavy iron of blood, forcing down every drop of humiliation and heartache.
So, I wiped away my tears, turned, and walked back to my table.
By the window, Natalie Cole was sipping her coffee.
Seeing me walk back in a daze, Natalie hurriedly stood up to support me:
"Vivian? What's wrong?"
I sat down, picked up the glass of ice water that had gone completely cold, and drank it all in one gulp.
The freezing liquid slid down my esophagus and into my stomach, sending a chill through my whole body, but finally restoring a deathly clarity to my chaotic mind.
I lifted my head, my once clear eyes now cold as a frozen lake.
"Natalie," I spoke, my voice terribly hoarse, yet devoid of any warmth.
"What is it, Vivian? Don't scare me. What happened?" Natalie asked, her brow furrowing.
I raised my right hand, and then forced out a sentence:
"Please, help me investigate Jonathan Hayes."
Natalie paused. "Investigate Jonathan? Investigate what?"
A self-deprecating smirk curved the edge of my lips as I said calmly:
"Find the woman he's keeping. Find out if he has a five-year-old illegitimate son, and find out exactly when that child was born."Vivian Sterling POV
The next afternoon, Natalie handed me a file.
The contents were laid out in crystal clarity.
The woman's name was Chloe Sutton, four years younger than Jonathan.
Five years ago, she met Jonathan at an upscale club.
And the boy named Toby Hayes was born exactly nine months after I was discharged from the hospital.
Which meant that while I was still fighting for my life in the hospital,
Jonathan had already cheated with another woman.
My fingers gripped the edges of the papers so tightly that my knuckles turned white.
Attached to the back of the report were Jonathan's transfer records over the past five years.
A two-hundred-square-meter luxury flat, registered in Chloe Sutton's name.
A fixed monthly allowance of a hundred thousand.
And every year, Jonathan took an entire month off under the pretext of business trips, when in reality, he was vacationing with Chloe and his child.
Five whole years.
Everyone had been fooled by him.
I even remembered how every time Jonathan returned from a business trip, he would embrace me and say:
"Honey, the business trip was exhausting. Thinking of you waiting for me at home was the only thing that kept me going."
As it turned out, his exhaustion came from dallying with his mistress.
I looked at the photos. In them, Jonathan was holding his mistress and son, smiling radiantly.
It was a look of pure ease he never showed at home.
Natalie was furious. "Vivian, let's call the reporters and expose him! Let's make a scene at Hayes Group! Ruin his name!"
"Expose him?"
I fell silent for a moment, then wiped my tears and slipped the report back into the envelope.
My eyes were cold as ice:
"What good would that do? Make him kneel and apologize? Or send the child away and pretend nothing happened?"
"What's done is done. An apology could never make up for it."
With that, I took out my phone, found a number, and dialed.
The phone rang just once before being answered, and a slightly surprised voice came from the other end:
"Vivian? Why the sudden call? Did Jonathan Hayes do something to hurt you?"
Hearing my father's familiar voice, a sudden wave of sorrow rushed up my nose, but I quickly suppressed it.
"Dad, about taking over the European division you mentioned before... I accept."
There was a pause on the other end, followed by a serious tone:
"You've thought it through?"
"Yes." I lowered my gaze. "Come pick me up in a week."
My father didn't ask further questions, only saying in a deep voice:
"Good! Don't worry about anything back home. I'll take care of it for you."
"No need, Dad." My heart ached, but I kept my tone as calm as possible. "There are some things I need to settle myself."
After hanging up, Natalie stayed with me for a long time.
Only when she saw I was truly composed did she leave.
And I continued to sit alone for a long while.
Until the sun set and the entire room sank into darkness.
The sound of the front door opening broke the silence.
Jonathan walked in, carrying a takeout bag.
Seeing the living room dark, Jonathan paused for a moment before switching on the lights and hurrying over to the sofa.
Looking at me with exhaustion and tender concern, he crouched down before me, reaching out to clasp my cold hands:
"Honey, why are you sitting in the dark? Is your head hurting again?"
I didn't pull my hands away; I just looked at him expressionlessly.
Completely oblivious, Jonathan held out the warm container in his arms as he always did:
"I just got off the plane and made a special stop at your favorite bakery to get you tiramisu. I had to wait in line for quite a while."
As he spoke, he deftly opened the cake box and presented it to me, his eyes brimming with affection:
"Try some. While I was away, my mind was full of you. The second I finished my work, I rushed back."
I looked at my husband's handsome face, his eyes overflowing with love.
This was the man I had once loved with my very life.
But when I remembered how yesterday he used a business trip as an excuse just to spend time with his mistress,
a wave of nausea washed over me, churning my stomach violently!
I turned my head sharply, avoiding his hand.
Jonathan's hand froze in midair, his brow knitting slightly:
"Vivian, what's wrong? Are you mad at me? Angry that I was away on business for so long and didn't spend enough time with you?"
He sighed, gathered me into his arms, rested his chin against the crown of my head, and coaxed me gently:
"I know you're lonely at home by yourself. Once the company's IPO is settled, I'll take you abroad on vacation, okay?"
His embrace was as warm as ever.
But pressed against my back, it felt as cold as ice.
Right then, Jonathan's phone buzzed.
The screen lit up with a notification banner.
Jonathan picked up the phone in a slight panic, subconsciously turning the screen away from me as he unlocked it.
In that split second, my peripheral vision still caught the message.
It came from a female profile picture saved as Chloe Sutton: *Our son is crying for his daddy. Jonathan, are you coming over tonight?*Vivian Sterling POV
Jonathan quickly placed the phone face down, a flicker of panic crossing his face.
But soon, his tender demeanor returned:
"There's an urgent matter at Hayes Group that needs to be handled right away. Honey, I might have to go work overtime tonight."
I didn't call his bluff.
I simply pulled my gaze back and used a tissue to dab the corner of my mouth:
"If you're busy, you'd better go handle it soon."
Jonathan looked visibly relieved, paying no mind to my unusual coldness.
Grabbing his coat, he pressed a kiss onto my forehead:
"Honey, you're so understanding. Go to bed early. Tomorrow morning, I'm taking you somewhere."
"Where?"
"To the hospital for a follow-up checkup," Jonathan said, his face full of concern. "The old injury on your lower abdomen always aches on rainy days. I had a friend book an appointment with a specialist to see if there are any new treatments."
Looking at his face brimming with concern, I sneered inwardly.
Treatment?
He probably just wanted one final confirmation to see if there was any chance I could still conceive.
In that brutal attack five years ago, my uterus had been removed.
No matter how advanced medicine was, could they conjure a uterus out of thin air?
Did Jonathan truly care about my health, or was he just searching for a convenient excuse for his betrayal?
The next day, Jonathan returned as promised and took me to the hospital.
Inside the consultation room.
The specialist flipped through the stack of medical reports, sighed, and said definitively:
"Ms. Sterling's trauma back then was too severe. She is permanently infertile. There is zero possibility of pregnancy in this lifetime. It is best not to harbor any illusions."
"Even if you consider surrogacy abroad, there are no viable eggs left to retrieve."
Hearing this answer, the hand Jonathan had placed on my shoulder visibly loosened its grip.
In that split second, the deep guilt and remorse in his eyes vanished entirely.
Without looking at me again, he let out a long breath, his tone turning detached and collected:
"I understand. Thank you, Doctor."
He stood up and took the lead out of the room to pay at the front desk.
I buttoned up my coat and slowly walked out of the room.
I waited in the hallway while Jonathan went to pay the bill.
A little boy around five years old came charging straight at me, crashing hard into my legs.
I gasped from the sudden pain, dropping the medical file in my hand as the documents spilled across the floor.
"Toby, slow down!"
A woman hurried over to help the boy up.
My pupils contracted; without even having to think, I recognized her.
It was Jonathan's secret mistress and his illegitimate son!
I never imagined they would actually dare to show up here.
Chloe Sutton apologized as she crouched down to help pick up the scattered medical papers.
Her gaze lingered for a couple of seconds on the bold words: *Permanently Infertile*.
Chloe stood up and handed the papers back, casually revealing the medical checkup slip in her own hand.
Under the guardian column, Jonathan Hayes's signature was clearly signed.
I saw it. I had to muster every ounce of strength to suppress the fury threatening to erupt inside me.
Yet even so, my eyes welled up with unshed tears.
Even though I had already known the truth, confronting it face-to-face made it impossible to stay completely unbothered.
Chloe straightened her son's collar, a subtle smirk curving the corner of her lips. "I'm so sorry. Kids are so naughty, always running around."
Looking at the toddler's face that resembled my husband so closely, a sharp pain surged through my chest.
But I bit my lip hard, tasting blood once more, and forced the tears back.
I was a daughter of the Sterling family. I would never show a hint of weakness or distress before this woman.
I reached out, pulled the medical slip back, and said in a voice trembling with coldness, "It's normal for children to be playful. I'm fine."
Seeing my calm expression, Chloe curled her lip slightly, took her child's hand, and walked away.
Before long, Jonathan returned after settling the bill.
Seeing my grim complexion, he assumed I was still upset about the infertility diagnosis.
He pulled me into his embrace, comforting me with his usual gentleness:
"Honey, I don't care whether we have children or not. All I want is for you to be healthy. Stop overthinking it. Let's go home."
Subconsciously, I wanted to pull away from his hug.
But not wanting to make it obvious, I could only let him lead me out of the hospital.Vivian Sterling POV
Not long after we returned from the hospital, Jonathan brought Chloe Sutton and her child home.
I froze, rage boiling inside me.
He actually dared to bring his mistress right in front of me!
Jonathan changed out of his leather shoes and stepped aside to introduce them:
"Vivian, this is my old neighbor, Chloe Sutton. She came to town with her child to run some errands and is staying with us for a few days. It'll be good company for you too—I always worry about you being alone at home."
Chloe stood at the door, her eyes fixed squarely on me, a subtle glint of provocation flashing in her gaze.
Then, feigning surprise, she spoke in a delicate, meek voice:
"Oh, so you were the lady I ran into earlier today! What a coincidence. I hope I won't be too much of a bother these next few days."
Sitting on the sofa, I watched Jonathan and Chloe's performance with cold detachment.
I didn't lose my temper on the spot. Instead, I glanced up at Chloe and said distantly:
"Well, since you're only staying for a few days—it's not like you can live here forever—a couple of days won't bother me."
The smile on Chloe's face stiffened slightly.
Jonathan, having not caught the underlying edge, arranged for them to stay in the second-floor guest room.
Once everything was settled, Jonathan headed to the study for a meeting.
As for me, I went about my own business. Swallowing my pride right now was simply to ensure nothing went wrong before my final departure.
All I could do was ignore them.
Nothing happened on the first night.
The next morning, as soon as I woke up, I heard commotion downstairs.
When I walked downstairs, I discovered that Toby had smashed the only photo album left behind by my late mother.
He had torn up the pictures inside, leaving scraps scattered all across the living room floor.
I trembled violently, my blood running cold with fury!
Yet Toby was still squatting there, grabbing the torn fragments and tossing them into the air, clapping and squealing with glee.
I rushed over, seized Toby's wrist, and snapped, "Let go!"
The grip hurt, and Toby immediately burst into loud, wailing sobs.
Urgent footsteps echoed down the staircase. Jonathan rushed down, swept Toby protectively into his arms, and frowned at me in reproach:
"Vivian! He's just a child, he doesn't know any better! Why are you putting your hands on a kid?"
My hand trembled as I pointed at the mess on the floor, my voice thick with choked tears: "Those are photos of my mother! He tore up the last pictures my mother left me! Do you have any idea what that means to me?"
Jonathan froze. I knew that he understood the gravity of it, but with Toby screaming and crying without pause, he could only offer me an awkward, placating excuse: "There must be backups of your mother's photos somewhere. When we get the chance, we can just print out a bunch more."
After saying that, he gave Toby nothing more than a mild murmur of reprimand, not genuinely scolding him at all.
And Toby, so young yet already glaring back at me with pure venom in his eyes.
I knelt down and gathered the shredded fragments bit by bit, completely numb to Jonathan's words.
Cradling and soothing the boy, Jonathan turned and carried Toby back to his room.
On their way upstairs, Chloe stepped out after hearing the commotion. From the corner of my eye, I caught Jonathan signaling to Chloe with a pointed look.
Chloe turned on her heel, stomped her foot, and retreated into her room.
A wave of chill welled up from the bottom of my heart.
My chest ached so deeply I couldn't comprehend how the man I once loved with my very life had devolved to this point.
Was it simply because I couldn't bear children?
I only hated myself for not seeing through him sooner!
After cleaning up the living room, I went to the kitchen to pour a glass of water.
Without me realizing it, Chloe had drifted into the kitchen as well.
She strolled up beside me, let out a soft laugh, and said, "Vivian Sterling, I saw your medical report earlier today. I honestly feel sorry for you."
I pressed the dispenser button to fill my glass, my knuckles turning white, never glancing in her direction.
Chloe took half a step closer, her eyes dripping with mockery:
"Jonathan loves children so much—don't you think you're holding him back? He still has feelings for you and feels too awkward to bring it up, but you're clinging to the title of Mrs. Hayes when you can't even give him a child. Do you really love him?"
I gripped the glass tighter and replied coldly, "What happens between my husband and me is none of your business."
"Is that so? How long do you think a childless marriage can really last?" Full of sneering disdain, Chloe deliberately raised her hand to brush her hair back.
On her wrist gleamed an expensive Bvlgari bracelet!
There was no need to guess—Jonathan had bought it for her.
Chloe flashed a glaringly smug smile, casting aside the fragile facade she wore when she first arrived: "Some seats are too shaky to keep. Sooner or later, you'll have to give it up."
Hearing those words, I couldn't hold back. I threw the glass of water straight into Chloe's face.
Chloe shrieked, "Are you out of your mind?!"
Lukewarm water dripped down her carefully styled hair, ruining her makeup.
Chloe wiped the wet streaks off her face and lowered her voice to a bitter snarl:
"Splashing water on me because I hit a nerve? You're hogging the position while being completely incapable of having a child. You know better than anyone how desperately Jonathan wants a son."
I set the empty glass down hard against the marble countertop with a sharp clatter:
"My life is none of your concern. Get out."
"What are you two shouting about?" The sliding door was shoved open violently as Jonathan rushed inside.
Catching sight of the drenched Chloe, Jonathan's face instantly darkened. He pulled Chloe behind him and lashed out at me furiously:
"Vivian Sterling! What kind of fit are you throwing now?! Chloe was kind enough to come in here and wash some fruit for you, and you threw water on her?!"
Chloe's eyes welled with tears at once. Clinging to Jonathan's sleeve, she sniffled, playing the picture of wounded innocence:
"Jonathan, it was my own fault. I misspoke and brought up having kids, which upset Vivian. It makes sense that she's angry."
Jonathan looked thoroughly exasperated, his former warmth utterly gone.
He turned toward me and barked an order:
"Chloe is a guest! Can't you show even a shred of grace?! Apologize to Chloe right now!"
Looking at the husband hurling accusations at me, I felt nothing but sheer absurdity.
I raised my head to meet Jonathan's furious gaze, my eyes completely frozen over, and spoke coldly:
"Me? Apologize to her?"
"Earlier today, Toby tore up my late mother's photos in the living room, and you brushed it off saying he's just a little boy. Just now, she stood in this kitchen mocking and belittling me, and you demand I apologize to her?"
I let out a chilling laugh, my voice devoid of warmth:
"Jonathan Hayes, if your neighbor's feelings mean that much to you, pack her up and get the hell out of here right now."Vivian's POV
Jonathan choked on my words, his expression turning exceedingly ugly.
Humiliated in front of Chloe, he pointed a finger at me in a fit of shame and rage:
"Vivian Sterling! When did you become so arrogant and unreasonable?!"
I didn't spare him another glance. Picking up my glass, I pushed past them both, walked out of the kitchen, and went straight upstairs to the master bedroom.
After the fight, I accelerated my preparations to leave.
I sorted through some documents in the study, and after spending a long time finishing up, I stepped out.
That was when I noticed noises coming from my bedroom.
Pushing the door open, the scene before me made the blood rush straight to my head!
On the carpet, Toby was holding a pair of scissors, cutting an unfolded handmade cashmere blanket to ribbons.
That was the very last gift my mother had given me before she passed away!
What was once a soft, pristine cashmere throw was now reduced to a floor full of ragged scraps.
On top of that, Toby had scribbled all over it with black oil pastels, covering it in messy scribbles.
"Stop it right now!"
My eyes burned scarlet in an instant. I lunged forward, snatched the scissors from Toby's hand, and shoved him away.
Toby tumbled onto the rug and wailed at the top of his lungs, "Mommy! The bad lady hit me!"
Chloe rushed in immediately, dropping to the floor to embrace Toby while wiping away tears with a look of utter grievance:
"Vivian! Toby is just a five-year-old boy! What's wrong with him cutting up a piece of cloth to play with? You were actually going to stab him with scissors!"
The front door opened right at that moment, and Jonathan walked in with brisk strides.
The moment Toby spotted Jonathan entering, he threw his arms wide and cried out:
"Daddy! She stole my toy!"
The word "Daddy" made Chloe's face drain of color instantly. She scrambled to clap a hand over Toby's mouth and hissed in a flustered whisper:
"Toby! You're scared out of your wits, what are you babbling about! That's your uncle!"
A flash of awkward panic flitted through Jonathan's eyes as well.
He hurried over, scooped Toby into his arms, avoided my gaze, and forced a laugh to explain:
"This boy grew up without a father. He blurts that out to whoever treats him well. Vivian, don't take it to heart."
I watched him lie with cold detachment, finding him nothing short of a clown.
I didn't expose him. Instead, clutching the shredded strips of cashmere blanket in my trembling hands, I pointed at the wreckage and demanded:
"Jonathan Hayes! This was the last gift my mother gave me before she died! And he completely destroyed it!"
To mask his guilt from a moment ago, Jonathan's face hardened:
"It's just a blanket. When I have time, I'll take you to the mall and buy ten of them to make it up to you. Toby is only five years old, what does he know? Is it really worth picking a fight with an ignorant child?"
His attitude provoked a bitter, mocking laugh out of me:
"Buy ten? The person who gave it to me is dead! Where on earth are you going to buy the exact same thing for me?! Jonathan Hayes, if someone cut up something your mother gave you today, would throwing money at it solve the problem for you?!"
The retort struck right at Jonathan's sore spot, and his expression instantly darkened.
Seeing this, Chloe held Toby tightly and trembled with tears:
"Jonathan, it's all my fault and Toby's. Since Vivian thinks we're intruding, we'll pack our things and move out right now. Please don't let us ruin your marriage."
Toby buried his face in Jonathan's chest and sobbed along, "The bad lady is so mean!"
Hearing those words, Jonathan snapped completely.
He gave my shoulder a violent, heavy shove!
Caught off guard, my lower back slammed hard against the sharp corner of the vanity table, making me gasp from the sharp pain.
Shielding Chloe and Toby behind him, Jonathan looked down at me with deep disappointment and accused:
"Vivian Sterling! What on earth do you want?"
"Back then, you ruined your body and couldn't conceive. I was considerate of you, I cherished you, and I never once looked down on you! But look at what you've become. Just because you don't have a child of your own, you're taking it out on a little kid?"
"When did you turn so cruel?!"
Those words were like daggers thrust straight into my chest.
My head buzzed loudly, leaving me unable to form a single word.
A metallic, copper taste rose in my mouth, and I had to force it down.
Seeing my state, Jonathan seemed to realize that his heated words had crossed the line, and a flicker of guilt crossed his eyes.
His lips parted, and he tentatively reached out to take my hand: "Vivian, I just lost my temper..."
I took a step back, dodging his touch.
Leaning against the vanity table, I slowly pushed myself upright, wiping all emotion from my face.
Perhaps when the heart dies completely, you no longer harbor any expectations of someone.
I looked at Jonathan quietly for a long moment, then walked away without an expression.
Deep within my eyes, not a trace of our past warmth remained.
Chapters (5)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Watch & Promotions
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