Chapter 3 Are You Done Throwing Your Little Tantrum

"I'm Busy Bee from 'The Fab Five.' I saw your SOS, tracked your location, and came straight here," Wyatt explained.

"You're Busy Bee?" Bethany stared at him in disbelief.

She recalled he was a tech guy in the game development department at Clarke Group's overseas branch.

He rarely spoke, spending most of his time lurking in the group chat. But when he did chime in, he always hit the nail on the head.

She'd always pictured him as a socially awkward programmer in a plaid flannel and thick, black-rimmed glasses. She never expected him to be this strikingly handsome in person.

"I thought you were based overseas," she added.

"I just got transferred back," Wyatt replied flatly. "I've already contacted the police. The thugs who attacked you last night are in custody, but they insisted it was just a drunken impulse."

Bethany bit her lower lip so hard that the heavy, metallic taste of blood flooded her mouth.

Lana had no real power or influence. There was no way she could force a gang of thugs to keep their mouths shut so tightly; someone had to be covering her tracks behind the scenes.

Bethany didn't even have to guess who that someone was—her husband.

"You just had a uterine curettage, so you're strictly on a liquid diet. I'll go down to the cafeteria and get you some soup." Wyatt stood up and left the hospital room.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Outside, Collin looked completely baffled. "Mr. Clarke, why are you keeping your identity a secret? You even changed into cheap sportswear. With your resources, you could pry those thugs' mouths open in a heartbeat. And I thought you would tell her you'd traced it back to Lana."

Last night, Wyatt had been absolutely furious, yet today, he was unusually calm and restrained. Collin couldn't wrap his head around it.

Wyatt stood before the elevator, his gaze icy. "I need to determine if she's worth my full support. She's highly talented, but unfortunately, she's too obsessed with her husband to see his true colors. When someone is trapped in the wrong marriage, it doesn't matter how hard others try to pull them out. If she doesn't wake up on her own, no one can save her."

He turned his head, asking lightly, "Are you sure it was the Barrett family who intervened last night?"

"Yes." Collin nodded. "Lana is Jacob Barrett's illegitimate daughter. The Barrett family stepped in to pay off the thugs. Brandon seems completely unaware of this."

Just then, the elevator doors slid open.

Wyatt stepped inside, letting out a cold sneer. "The devoted husband everyone praises is nothing but a PR persona."

Twenty minutes later, Collin eyed the takeout container in Wyatt's hands and quickly spoke up. "Mr. Clarke, you can leave these trivial errands to me. Why go to the cafeteria yourself?"

"My current identity is a low-level tech guy. I don't warrant an executive assistant." Wyatt carried the soup and headed back into the hospital room.

Collin stood rooted to the spot. Was his CEO actually roleplaying right now?

The hospital room door was pushed open from the outside, and Wyatt stepped in.

Bethany looked up at him with gratitude. "Thank you," she said softly.

For an entire night, Brandon hadn't made a single phone call or offered a word of concern, completely tossing her—his lawful wife—to the back of his mind.

In contrast, an internet friend she had never even met was running around taking care of her during her darkest hour.

How ironic.

Bethany took the soup, forcing it down in small, slow bites.

Even though she had no appetite, she had to nurse her body back to health.

The people who had hurt her still hadn't paid the price; she could not collapse yet.

After finishing the soup, Bethany looked at Wyatt, her voice weak. "I've already hired a caregiver. You can head back to work; you don't need to waste your time here."

"Then get some rest." Wyatt stood up. "Everyone in the group is worried about you. They specifically asked me to make sure you're okay. Call me anytime if you need anything."

Bethany didn't think much of it.

A while back, she had fixed a notoriously difficult bug on a gaming forum. The original poster had been so impressed by her skills that they pulled her into a private group of just four gaming enthusiasts.

They exchanged tech knowledge online and occasionally vented about life. Normally, they were just casual internet friends.

But last night, the second they saw her SOS, this group of strangers had scrambled into a panic, doing everything in their power to help her.

They had even begged Wyatt, the only local, to rush to the scene.

At the thought of it, a warm wave of emotion welled up in Bethany's chest.

Even internet friends she had never met treated her like this, yet her own husband...

Right at that moment, the hospital room door was shoved open.

Brandon marched in briskly. Taking in Bethany's pale face, he grabbed her hand. "Bethany, it's all my fault. I just got a call from the police. They said you were attacked by a gang of thugs last night and lost the baby. How are you doing? Where does it hurt?"

At the mention of the baby who had died before even taking a breath, a sharp, agonizing pang pierced Bethany's heart.

She violently ripped her hand from his grasp, her eyes filled with nothing but bone-chilling hatred. "Lana was the one who hired them last night. She ordered those thugs to corner me and murder our baby brutally."

Lana, who had trailed in right behind him, looked the picture of innocent grievance. "How could you say that? How could I possibly do something so vicious? I stayed with Prof. Parker the entire night. I never left his side. I swear I didn't hire anyone to hurt you, let alone your baby."

The Barrett family had already cleaned up the mess with the thugs. Even if Bethany accused her, Brandon would never believe it.

All she had to do was shed a few tears, and Brandon would be convinced that Bethany had orchestrated the whole thing just to frame her.

Brandon immediately jumped to Lana's defense. "That's impossible. Lana is the kindest soul I've ever met; she could never do something like that. Bethany, I know you're hurting because you just lost the baby, but you can't just throw around false accusations."

Bethany stared straight at him, refusing to back down an inch. "You don't believe me? Fine. I'll call the police right now. Lana has their contact info and the bank transfer records on her phone. One investigation, and the truth will come out."

"I swear, I really didn't do it. If you don't believe me, you can check my phone right now," Lana pleaded, her eyes brimming with tears.

"Enough. Stop making a scene." Impatience flared in Brandon's eyes. "You've been on antidepressants for a long time, so your mental state is already fragile. You just went through a miscarriage and suffered a massive shock. That's why you jumped to conclusions. Just stop making wild accusations against Lana."

"If you think I'm falsely accusing her, then we should absolutely call the police and let them clear her name!" Bethany retorted coldly.

Brandon lost his temper completely. "I'm about to hold a new book launch. If you call the police now and blow this out of proportion, my future will be ruined. If my reputation is destroyed and I lose my income, who's going to pay for your mother's medical bills?"

The blatant favoritism, the endless threats and manipulation—it completely shattered the last shred of Bethany's patience.

Fury surged through her veins. She grabbed the water glass from the nightstand and hurled it fiercely at the floor.

With a sharp crash, the glass shattered into pieces.

"Get out! Both of you, get out right now!" she yelled.

Shards flew everywhere. Lana let out a soft shriek, shrinking back as she put on a terrified, tearful display.

Seeing this, Brandon immediately shielded her behind his back, his expression turning downright ugly.

He glared at Bethany, his voice dripping with cold reprimand. "Are you done throwing your little tantrum? Lana came to see you out of kindness, yet you repay her with verbal abuse and physical attacks. You really don't know what's good for you. Just stay in the hospital and reflect on your behavior for the next few days, so you don't go out and cause any more trouble."

With that, he kept a protective arm around Lana and marched briskly out the door.

The hospital room fell into a dead silence.

Bethany slowly made her way to the window. As she looked down at the intimate figures of the two of them leaving the building, her eyes frosted over with a chilling resolve.

Their baby had died, yet Brandon hadn't shown the slightest hint of grief. Instead, all he cared about was his own future, his fame, and his fortune.

He hadn't held her in his heart for a long time.

All his tenderness and devotion were reserved entirely for Lana.

Since he cherished his reputation and future above all else, she would personally tear apart his glamorous facade.

She would destroy the things he cared about most, piece by piece.

Outside the door, two figures slipped past.