After serving my sick mother-in-law in the hospital for half a year, I finally returned home. Before I could even warm the sofa, my husband suddenly opened the door and walked in with another woman. The woman cradled a clearly pregnant belly and shyly lowered her head. "This is Mia. I... made a mistake five months ago, and now she's pregnant. I'm worried about her living alone outside, so I have no choice but to entrust her to your care." "It'll be a bit tough on you for this period, just half a year. Once the baby is born, I'll send her away." I frowned: "You want me to serve your mistress through her pregnancy and postpartum? Did your brain get slammed in a door?" Mark exploded on the spot, smashing a glass. "I only brought Mia home because I thought you were kind-hearted. Don't be ungrateful!" "If you don't agree, we get a divorce right now. I have plenty of ways to make sure you don't get a single dime!" My mother-in-law, recently discharged from the hospital, glared at me coldly: "A hen that can't lay eggs herself, and won't let anyone else lay them either. Is my Miller family going to end with you?" "My son gives you face, and you are Mrs. Miller. If he doesn't give you face, you're just a used, worn-out rag! What right do you have to throw an attitude at my son!" I looked at my self-righteous husband, then at my disdainful mother-in-law, and smiled. It's not that I wouldn't agree to take care of the mistress. It's just that I secretly sterilized my husband a long time ago. Whose seed is growing in Mia's belly? 1 I stood up from the sofa, my fingertips trembling slightly from anger. "So, for the half-year I was running around the hospital taking care of your mother for you, you were busy taking care of another woman outside, and even had a child with her? Not only did she get pregnant, but now you want me to take care of her? Is that what you're saying?" Before Mark could speak, my mother-in-law chimed in anxiously. "What kind of attitude is that? Can't you hear an elder speaking to you? Do you have any manners?" "You are the daughter-in-law; taking care of me is your duty! My son hasn't left you short of food or clothes, who are you pulling this face for?" I turned to look at my mother-in-law, a mocking arc curving at the corner of my mouth. "Mom, in your heart, am I really the Miller family's daughter-in-law?" Before I finished speaking, Mark immediately agreed: "Mom is right." "Chloe, don't forget, the house you live in now, the car you drive, which of them didn't I give you? Without me, you're nothing!" "Married for five years and your belly hasn't shown any movement. It's good enough our Miller family hasn't blamed you." My mother-in-law sneered: "Now Mia is carrying Mark's seed, this is the hope of the Miller family. You must take good care of her!" Mark chimed in to support her: "Exactly." "You can't give birth yourself, so you want to stop others from doing it? Chloe, can you not be so vicious?" Watching this mother and son sing the same tune, I only felt it was absurd and hilarious. Five years of marriage. I accompanied Mark from setting up a street stall to taking his company public. During the early days of his startup, when he stayed up late guarding the shop, I brought him late-night snacks. When his capital turnover was tight, I mortgaged the apartment my parents gave me for the wedding. His mother was hospitalized three times, and I served her, handling her bedpans and urinals. Even half a year ago, when she was hospitalized for a stroke, I guarded her side day and night for six months. And now, I've become a used rag that is nothing. Just because I can't have a child, I am the sinner of their entire family! "I didn't say I disagreed." I interrupted them, my tone as calm as stagnant water. Both Mark and my mother-in-law were stunned, clearly not expecting me to agree. "Glad you know what's good for you." My mother-in-law curled her lip: "Hurry up and tidy up a south-facing bedroom for Mia; pregnant women need sunlight." "The fridge in the kitchen is empty. Go buy groceries now; Mia is hungry." Mark ordered immediately, as if I were really the family's nanny. I didn't speak, turning and walking into the guest room. I watched as they crowded around Mia, walking into the master bedroom. That was the room Mark and I had shared for five years. Mia sat on the bed I had slept in for five years and said timidly to Mark: "Mark, won't this be too much trouble for Sister Chloe?" "What trouble? She's supposed to do these things anyway." Mark stroked her hair, his tone soft enough to drip water: "You're carrying my child; just rest well." I closed the door, my back against the panel, my fingertips icy cold. Images from four years ago suddenly flooded my mind. At that time, Mark's company had just started to pick up, and he hired a young, beautiful secretary named Willow. The first time I saw them at the company, Willow was standing on her tiptoes tying Mark's tie. They smiled intimately, and the large expanse of exposed skin on the woman's chest was pressed right against him. I confronted Mark, but he said I was being unreasonable: "It's just a secretary helping her boss tie his tie, and those clothes are the company's standard uniform. What are you thinking? Chloe, can you be a bit more generous?" Later, I received a photo from Willow. She was lying on a hotel bed, covered with Mark's suit jacket. The caption: "Mr. Miller says I know how to be romantic much better than you." I took the photo to the company to confront Mark. But he kicked me out in front of all the company employees. "Chloe! Stop making a fool of yourself here! Make a scene again and we're getting a divorce!" That day I stood outside the company building. Looking at the man I had loved in that high-rise, my heart completely died. I accompanied him in building his business from scratch, but after striking it rich, he wanted to kick me to the curb. But I wasn't willing to let it go. Half of this company is my blood and sweat; I couldn't just hand it over to someone else. I began to plan quietly. I asked a friend to buy sterilization drugs and mixed them into Mark's coffee. He never suspected me, drinking it with absolute peace of mind. I thought, since I can't keep his heart, at least I must protect my assets. I would make sure he could never have someone else's child inherit everything. But I never expected that today, five years later, he would actually bring a pregnant woman home. 2 The first day Mia moved in, she treated me like a nanny. At seven in the morning, she banged loudly on my door: "Sister Chloe, I'm hungry. I want to eat soy milk and fried dough sticks from that old shop downstairs. Go buy them." I had just finished washing up and hadn't even had time for breakfast before she bossed me around. When I bought the soy milk and fried dough sticks back, she frowned again and said: "Oh my, I can't eat fried food right now, it's bad for the baby." "Sister Chloe, please go boil some bird's nest for me, the kind that needs to be stewed for over three hours." I didn't say a word, turning and walking into the kitchen. My mother-in-law was sitting in the living room watching TV. Seeing me busy running around, not only did she not help, but she also commanded: "Put a few more red dates in the bird's nest; Mia is anemic." In the afternoon, I made four dishes and a soup. Mia only took one bite of a dish and put down her chopsticks: "Sister Chloe, the dishes you made are too salty, the baby can't handle it." "And I want to eat sour things right now. Go buy me a bottle of aged vinegar, the sourest kind." I dug my nails into my palms: "It's so cold out, you want me to run out and buy vinegar? There's some in the kitchen; you can drink it like water if you want." "Sister Chloe, how can you speak like that?" Mia's eyes immediately reddened, and she looked at Mark, who had just returned home from work: "Mark, I didn't mean to make things difficult for Sister Chloe, it's just that the baby wants to eat..." Mark immediately glared at me: "Chloe! What's wrong with you?" "Mia is pregnant, what's wrong with wanting something to eat? Go buy it right now!" I gripped the chopsticks in my hand tightly, my knuckles turning white. "Fine, I'll buy it." From then on, Mia's demands became increasingly outrageous. She made me wash her underwear, by hand, saying the washing machine didn't clean well enough. She made me give her a sponge bath every day, saying it was inconvenient for her to bend over. She even made me clip her toenails, and complained that I didn't clip them round enough. While making me massage her legs, she stroked her smooth skin: "Sister Chloe, look at your hands, as rough as old tree bark. No wonder Mark doesn't like you." "Women need to take good care of themselves, otherwise, you'll lose your looks at a young age, and who will cherish you then?" I ignored her, continuing to massage. She spoke again: "Sister Chloe, you've been with Mark for so many years, have you never given him any surprises? Men all like women who know how to be romantic. You're like a piece of wood, how could Mark care about you?" When Mark returned, she immediately changed her tune, nestling in his arms: "Mark, you're back? Sister Chloe massaged me for a long time today. It must have been hard work for her." Mark touched her face, looking at me with a mocking gaze: "Look at how sensible Mia is. You should learn from her." I gave a cold laugh and turned into the kitchen. Later, Mia asked me to help her buy maternity and baby supplies, and I immediately agreed. Anyway, it was Mark's money being spent; why not spend it? Opportunities to openly transfer assets are rare. But I didn't expect her to push her luck. That night, she handed me a shopping list. The last item was boldly written: "Lingerie." She blushed, lowering her head shyly: "Sister Chloe, please help me buy this." "Mark seems a bit tired lately. I want to give him a surprise and make him happy." I looked at the list, feeling nothing but disgust: "If you want to buy it, go buy it yourself." "Sister Chloe, why are you like this?" Her tears fell instantly: "I'm a pregnant woman, it's so inconvenient to go out. And this kind of thing, how could a young girl like me have the nerve to go buy it?" My face went completely cold: "What does that have to do with me?" "You're already a pregnant woman, what are you pretending to be a young girl for?" Mia cried beautifully: "Sister Chloe, do you dislike me?" "I know I shouldn't be here, shouldn't be carrying Mark's child. If you really can't stand the sight of me, I'll just leave with the child, so I won't be an eyesore here." Mark happened to come back from outside. Hearing the crying, he immediately ran over: "What happened? Why is Mia crying?" 3 "Mark!" Mia threw herself into Mark's arms, complaining tearfully: "I just wanted Sister Chloe to help me buy something to make you happy. I didn't expect Sister Chloe to be unwilling, and she even said I shouldn't be here... How about I just live outside?" Mark glared at me angrily: "Chloe! What are you throwing a fit about again?" "Mia asked you to buy something, so what? Do you have to make things so difficult for her?" I said flatly: "She asked me to buy lingerie." "Then buy it!" Mark was unconcerned, adopting a high-and-mighty posture: "Mia wants to make me happy, what's wrong with that? As the older sister, what's wrong with helping her buy something? You're just narrow-minded, jealous that Mia is carrying my child!" I finally couldn't hold it back anymore, abruptly raising my volume: "Mark, have you no shame?" "She's a mistress! You want me to buy lingerie for your mistress? Are you crazy?" "Shut your mouth!" Mark was livid with anger: "Chloe, I'm warning you, you are not allowed to speak of Mia like that! She is carrying my child, she is a meritorious contributor to the Miller family!" Mia pulled on Mark's arm, hypocritically advising: "Mark, don't be angry, it's all my fault. I shouldn't have asked Sister Chloe to help me buy this kind of thing." As she spoke, she deliberately leaned towards me. Then her foot slipped, and she fell directly onto the floor. She clutched her stomach, her face deathly pale. "Mia!" Mark was scared out of his wits, hurriedly picking her up: "How are you? Are you okay?" "I... my stomach hurts a bit..." Mia bit her lip, tears streaming down her face. When she looked at me, there was a trace of imperceptible smugness in her eyes: "Sister Chloe, I know you don't like me, but you shouldn't have pushed me..." I was stunned. "I didn't push you!" "If it wasn't you, who was it?" Mark's eyes widened in fury, pointing at my nose and cursing: "Chloe, you venomous woman! Mia is pregnant, and you actually dared to push her? I'm telling you, if anything happens to her, I won't let you off!" I looked at him, my heart sinking little by little. "Mark, are you blind?" "Get back to your room! Without my permission, you are not allowed to come out!" Mark held Mia, shouting sternly: "If there's any problem with Mia and the baby, I'm not done with you!" I watched as he nervously carried Mia to the hospital, watching my mother-in-law follow behind, cursing. Suddenly, I felt an immense sense of irony. I stood rooted to the spot, speaking coldly: "Since this family doesn't welcome me, I'll just leave." I packed my bags and left the house I had lived in for five years. As soon as I checked into a hotel, my phone rang. It was a WeChat message from Mia. She sent a photo of a designer bag Mark had bought her: "Mark bought this for me, said it's a gift to make it up to me. By the way, this money seems to be your and Mark's joint property." Then, she sent a screenshot of a money transfer. Mark had transferred fifty thousand dollars to her. "Mark told me to spend it however I want, and said once the baby is born, he'll divorce you. By then you'll get nothing. Sister Chloe, don't you think your five years were wasted for nothing?" "Instead of losing all your face then, it's better to initiate a divorce now and leave with nothing." I deleted the message and ignored it. In the following days, she escalated her behavior, sending me all kinds of show-off messages every day. Mark took her to buy jewelry. Mark accompanied her to prenatal checkups. Mark hired a top-tier postpartum nanny for her... Every message reminded me of how heartless Mark was, and how smug she was. I looked at those messages and only found them amusing. I was waiting. Waiting for the day she gave birth, waiting for the moment the truth was revealed. In the blink of an eye, three months passed, and Mia gave birth to a son. Mark was overjoyed, throwing a grand banquet, and specifically sent me a message: "We've been giving each other the silent treatment for so long, it's time to let go of your anger. After all, you are the child's mother in name. It's inappropriate if you don't show up." I looked at the invitation and sneered. Host it, the more lively the better. Such a wonderful play, how could it lack an audience?
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "394866", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel