Chapter 1

In the delivery room, my wife's first love stared at the newborn and asked her:

"Who do you think the baby looks like more? "

Melody didn't hesitate for a second before answering:

"He definitely looks just like you. "

The doctors and midwives shot me looks of pure pity. Melody suddenly looked anxious and tried to explain:

"Honey, I was just kidding. Don't take it seriously. "

I let out a cold, mocking laugh. "Oh, don't mind me. Congratulations to you both. I wish your little family a lifetime of happiness. "

.....

1

As soon as those words left my mouth, the delivery room fell so silent you could only hear the rhythmic beeping of the monitors.

Everyone turned their heads to stare at me at once.

Some looked shocked, others confused, and a few were clearly just waiting for the drama to unfold.

The entire maternity ward staff knew I was the ultimate devoted husband.

From Melody Thorne's very first prenatal check-up to the moment she went into labor, I had been her shadow, serving her hand and foot.

I could recite every lab result and pregnancy precaution by heart.

They probably thought I was just lashing out in a fit of pique, fueled by jealousy over my wife's close bond with her male best friend.

Melody took the offensive first. Ignoring the nurses trying to calm her, she grabbed a thermal pitcher and hurled it straight at me.

"Ethan Vance, are you insane? " she shrieked.

"I went through hell to give you a child, and you're standing there giving me that pathetic face? Who are you trying to guilt-trip? "

"If it wasn't for you, would I even have to suffer like this? "

Her words hit me like lead weights, one after another.

We had struggled with infertility for years. The doctors told us IVF was our only hope.

To be honest, I would have preferred being child-free rather than watching the woman I loved go through that physical toll.

But she insisted on having a baby, claiming she didn't want people looking down on her.

It was her PCOS that made conception difficult, yet she told everyone it was my fault, subtly hinting I wasn't man enough to get the job done.

Out of respect for her hormones and the stress of pregnancy, I let her verbal abuse slide for months.

Suddenly, a sharp sting flared on my elbow. I looked down to see my skin turning a violent shade of red from the scalding water.

In Melody's eyes, I was nothing but a loyal dog who had to stay at her beck and call.

Whenever she was in a bad mood, regardless of where we were, she wouldn't hesitate to berate or even hit me.

After she vented her anger, she would usually flash a sweet smile and say:

"Men who pamper their wives always get rich. "

"You should thank me for being your lucky charm. Without my energy, your company would never have gone public. "

With those casual words, she claimed all the credit for my success, completely erasing the years of blood, sweat, and tears I put into my business.