Part 2The Heir's Price

Ethan would come to my room for a while every day, but while his body was here, his heart was next door.

His phone screen was always lighting up with various messages from Mia.

[Ethan, I miss the baby so much. Can you ask her to give the child back to me?]

[I don't want anything else, I just want my child.]

[Ethan, I bled a lot. The doctor said I have severe postpartum hemorrhage. Am I going to die?]

Mia knew exactly how to manipulate Ethan.

She never attacked me directly, just repeatedly emphasized her pain and her longing for the child.

Using this to highlight my "viciousness" and "unreasonableness."

Every time he read them, his frown would deepen, and then he would find an excuse to leave in a hurry.

Early one morning, Ethan wasn't there, and the child had been taken by the nurse and nanny for a checkup.

Mia stood by my bed like a ghost, her eyes venomous.

"Chloe, don't think you've won."

"That unlucky child of yours, I was the one who made Ethan get rid of it."

"That night, Ethan drank too much and kept calling me."

"I just whined on the phone, saying the child in your belly would be an obstacle for me in the future..."

"I told him to spend more time with me, not to always hover around you."

"I didn't expect that after he hung up, he would really go back to find you. As for what happened next..."

"It's your own fault you couldn't keep your child. You can't blame anyone else."

"You're just raising a child for me, don't be happy too early!"

After she finished, she turned and left.

Every word was like a red-hot branding iron, searing fiercely into my heart.

So that's how it was...

I closed my eyes, the hand under the blanket trembling violently. The blood backing up in the IV tube quickly dyed a section of the transparent tube red.

I bit my lip so hard that a heavy, metallic taste of blood spread in my mouth.

I didn't cry, nor did I make a fuss. I just silently pulled out the IV needle from my hand.

Beads of blood slid down the back of my hand, dripping onto the pure white bedsheets like a stark, tragic plum blossom.

At that moment, the hospital room door was pushed open.

Ethan walked in.

He saw the blood on my hand, froze for a moment, then quickly stepped forward and grabbed my wrist.

"Why did you pull out the needle? Are you crazy?!"

He picked up a cotton swab from the nightstand, pressing down hard on my wound, his brows furrowed tightly, actually showing a bit of genuine concern.

I was trembling all over. I wanted to scream, to interrogate him, to pounce and tear him to shreds.

But I had no strength.

"You can go. Go be with Mia."

"Martha will be back soon; I don't need you here."

A cry came from next door. Mia was acting crazy again.

Ethan ran over without hesitation.

I called my assistant and told her to process an early discharge for me immediately.

"Back to the main estate!"

Back to throw my weight around.

When I appeared at the door of the Vance family's main estate holding that child, the whole family was in an uproar.

Grandpa and Grandma, maternal grandparents, uncles, aunts... everyone crowded around.

"Oh my, my precious grandson!"

Grandma carefully took the child from my arms, grinning from ear to ear.

Grandpa was even more excited, his hands trembling. He looked at me, his eyes full of approval.

"Chloe, good job! You are a great contributor to our Vance family!"

I became the hero of the entire family.

Because I brought the first male heir of the fifth generation to the four-generation Vance family.

No one knew that my heart had already died in that cold hospital, along with my unborn child.

My father-in-law watched the nanny van drive straight into the garage and asked, puzzled, "Where is Ethan?"

"Busy, probably. I didn't even see him at the hospital."