I was in active labor, dilated to six centimeters, when my husband burst into the delivery room. "Hand over your credit card right now," he demanded. "The hospital admission deposit is eight thousand dollars." I forced my eyes open with great difficulty. "Where’s your card?" He took a sharp step backward. "Don't tell me you’re trying to use having a baby as an excuse to touch my pre-marital assets!" Chapter 1 1 The delivery room went dead silent. Even the woman in the bed next to me seemed to forget her own contractions. I stared at Mark, utterly incredulous. "What did you just say?" "Cut the crap!" The man squatted down and aggressively started tearing through my pre-packed hospital bag. "My money is money I earned by busting my ass out there! Competing with colleagues, battling subordinates, outsmarting bosses, and enduring impossible clients!" "Aside from my parents, I have no obligation to share my money with anyone irrelevant!" "I told you when we were dating: a marriage has to be an equal partnership. If one person is just a charity case, it won't last. Nobody gets to take what doesn't belong to them just because of a marriage certificate!" Listening to his speech, my heart turned to ice, inch by inch. Just how blind did I have to be to choose a piece of trash like this? Right now, I was absolutely certain that if something went wrong during this delivery, he would not hesitate to pull the plug to save a dollar. I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was New Year’s Day. My parents had just boarded their flight; they were still two hours away from landing. Mrs. Gable, the nanny my parents hired for me, was still on holiday leave. My due date had jumped forward by a whole week. I had to stall until my parents arrived. Another wave of contractions hit me. I gripped the wall, barely holding myself up. Every nerve ending was strung to its absolute limit. Cold sweat soaked through my hospital gown. I hadn't even had a chance to eat breakfast. The nurses had urged him several times to go buy some food for me to keep my energy up. So Mark brought back two packs of instant ramen. Setting aside whether it had any nutritional value, just figuring out how to eat it in this state was a problem. The expectant mother in the next bed breathed through her contraction, rummaged in her bag, and handed me a few Snickers bars. The young woman let out a soft sigh: "Whatever the outcome with him, you have to get through the hurdle right in front of you first. Hang in there!" Trembling, I took the hand extended to me by a fellow woman. My nose stung with overwhelming gratitude. After forcing down the first Snickers bar, I gained an unprecedented surge of strength. I looked at Mark, my tone resolute: "Stop looking." "Go... go call Dave. Tell him to come pay the deposit." "Dave?" Mark stopped what he was doing and slowly turned around: "Why the hell would he pay your deposit?" Dave was one of his buddies from his rec basketball league. A total, unadulterated scumbag. He’d gotten countless girls pregnant and vanished every time. Still single in his mid-thirties. Dragging him into this muddy water gave me no sense of guilt whatsoever. Since this marriage was definitely heading for divorce. I might as well give Mark a reason to file. The contraction eased slightly, and I met his furious glare: "Nobody gets to take what doesn't belong to them just because of a marriage certificate! And nobody gets to claim a child that doesn't belong to them just because of a marriage certificate either." "Holy shit!" Someone gasped so loud their jaw nearly hit the floor. I looked over; it was the girl who had just given me the Snickers. "Honey, did you hear that?" she whispered to her husband. "I swear to God, the baby in my belly is absolutely yours, and your money is all mine." Mark stood up abruptly, the veins on his hands bulging: "You have the balls to say that to me again! This child... is a bastard you made from screwing around with Dave?" A stroke of inspiration flashed in my mind. Wait. I missed one. "You might want to call Mike down here too." The room took a collective, sharp intake of breath. Mike. Mark’s other best friend. A walking textbook of vices—drinking, gambling, whoring, you name it. He’d even given his own wife an STD, and they were currently in the middle of a nasty divorce. Since the pot was already boiling into chaos. What did one more or one less matter? Tom, Dick, or Harry, cheating is cheating. A woman, as long as she is willing to risk it all, cannot be bound by any chains in this world. Mark was completely petrified: "You were sleeping with Mike too? He’s diseased! Just how trashy are you to be that desperate?!" "And your dad," Fighting through the intense pain, I unleashed the ultimate killing blow: "Call him here, too." 2 Clatter. The sound of a metal medical tray hitting the floor rang out. Mark staggered back a step: "You're joking, right? Just because I won't pay your hospital deposit, you're dumping a bucket of shit on your own head? It’s just eight thousand dollars, is it worth it? My dad is over sixty! You’re going to ruin him like this?" "Ruin him?" I looked at Mark, deadpan: "You've got it twisted. What’s wrong with a grandfather coming to pay a deposit for his grandson?" "Is it a son or a grandson?!" Mark’s eyes looked ready to pop out of their sockets. "Either works. Up to you." Turns out what people say is true. When a person is in a state of extreme excitement, they really can't feel pain. Every cell in my body was screaming right now. Destroy him! Destroy him! It was a feeling I had never experienced before. The onlookers awkwardly pulled their privacy curtains shut. Everyone was getting full on the drama today. It successfully diverted the attention of the mothers-to-be, making them temporarily forget their contractions. Even the nurses stayed in this room for an absurdly long time. Who says you shouldn't air your dirty laundry in public? It wasn't me who looked ugly anyway. The next second, I held my phone out to him: "Should I call them, or are you going to?" "Call your fucking mother!" Mark snatched the phone and smashed it violently onto the floor, then grabbed me forcefully by the collar: "What the hell were you doing behind my back with Dave and Mike? Whose bastard is this exactly?!" "Take a guess." I tilted my face up, looking at him mockingly: "Aren't we just 'irrelevant people' to you? What does it matter whose it is?" Mark’s lower lip began to tremble uncontrollably. His calculations were just too perfect. He expected me to be financially independent while bearing his children, and also demanded that I be a submissive, traditional, perfectly faithful wife. There is no logic in this world that allows for such a cheap deal. "Fine! Good! Very good! This is how you want to play it?" Mark poked my forehead repeatedly with his index finger: "This is marital infidelity. No matter whose bastard this is, you deserve to leave this marriage with absolutely nothing! You brought this upon yourself, you can't blame me." I slowly curled the corners of my lips: "Don't worry. Whoever the father is, I’m sure he’ll be happy to pay you compensation for the adultery. We won't default on our debts." Pfft... A snort of laughter leaked through the gap in the curtain next door. The girl silently gave me a thumbs up. The next second, the door was pushed open violently, and a figure flashed in. I looked over in pleasant surprise, only to see— Mark's mother? 3 "What is going on here?" The old woman frowned as she looked over: "I could hear you two squawking from a mile away. It's been hours, why hasn't she given birth yet? My bridge group is missing a fourth player." Mark abruptly let go of my collar. Driven by inertia, I fell heavily back onto the bed. "There's a bastard in her belly! Whoever wants to stay can stay, but I’m not staying!" Mark grabbed his jacket, ready to leave. Mrs. Vance looked at him in confusion: "What do you mean, bastard? Where are you going?" "She admitted it herself. She slept with Dave and Mike, and she doesn't even know whose kid is in her belly." "What?" The old woman grabbed Mark’s arm: "A bastard? Then you absolutely cannot leave. Wait until the child is born, quickly draw blood for a DNA test, and then make this bitch pay! The wedding costs, emotional distress compensation—if we don't bleed her dry, I'll change my last name!" Mark stopped in his tracks. He narrowed his eyes and turned his head: "You're right. We definitely need to settle this score properly." The contractions hit again, and suddenly a warm stream ran down my leg onto the floor. My water broke. The previous hostility vanished into thin air. I tightly grabbed the nurse's hand: "What do I do?" The nurse instantly supported me: "Lie down quickly, you can't stand up!" She slapped the payment slip onto Mark’s chest again: "Go pay the deposit right now! This is a matter of life and death! Whatever conflicts you have, deal with them after the baby is born!" The next second, I was wheeled into the delivery room. Tears slid down from the corners of my eyes. Until the crucial moment, you never know if you married a human or a ghost. Mark and I knew each other back in college. We were both poor then, so there was no opportunity to spend his money. After graduation, I found a good job, and still didn't have the opportunity to spend his money. After getting married, the nanny my parents hired for my dowry stayed by my side, giving me even less reason to spend his money. Gradually, I got used to being self-sufficient. The education I received since childhood was to be reasonable, know right from wrong, and have correct moral values. After marriage, one should be empathetic and treat every family member with sincerity. But no one ever told me that not everyone deserves to be called family. I walked through the gates of hell, and eventually, my long labor resulted in an emergency C-section. The moment I was asked to sign the consent form, my parents finally arrived. Lying quietly at the door of the delivery room was that deposit slip. Eight thousand dollars had allowed me to see through the coldness of human nature. My mom held me and cried for a long time. My dad glanced back and forth between me and the baby: "Not bad, she looks like you. Let's call her Rain." I finally broke down in tears. Everyone in this world might betray me, but my parents never would. My mom placed the baby into my arms. I looked down and kissed the top of her head. In that very second, a massive shift occurred in my mindset— I was a mother now. Therefore, I had to protect everything my daughter deserved. Soon, Mrs. Gable, the nanny, arrived looking travel-worn. "Why did she come a week early? I was so scared I didn't sleep a wink last night." Looking at my neat and complete family, I finally understood what security felt like. Mrs. Gable was the last bit of dignity my parents had given me. I didn't have any traditional dowry; accurately speaking, I only came with a dowry nanny. At the time, I didn't understand my parents' actions at all. Logically, I am an only child. My parents had worked their whole lives, and their financial foundation wasn't weak. But my parents completely deviated from the norm. And it was in that moment that Mark’s usually gentle and refined expression cracked for the first time: "Chloe, your parents aren't confused, are they? Other people's dowries are either houses or cars, and your family is just giving a nanny?" 4 My mom quickly opened the nanny employment contract: "Mark, don't worry, this dowry definitely won't leave you at a disadvantage. Nowadays houses shrink in value, and cars depreciate, but Mrs. Gable is different. She has lived with us for years, knows Chloe’s dietary habits perfectly, and can take good care of her for us. You don't need to worry about the contract; treat it as Chloe’s dowry. You two living a good life together is better than anything." Now, my mom took out the contract again and softly comforted me: "Don't worry, no one can use a piece of paper like a marriage certificate to take what doesn't belong to them!" Following that, Mrs. Gable handed me a card. I looked closely. It was my credit card. The one my parents strongly insisted I apply for before I got married. "These past two years, Mrs. Gable's salary and most of your daily expenses have come from this card. After you maxed it out, your dad and I have been paying the minimum balance for you every month. We originally thought that if your marriage was happy, we would just cover this money. But looking at it now, this Mark is absolutely not worth trusting." I suddenly understood everything. It turned out my parents had seen through the truth of this marriage two years ago, but at the time, I firmly believed that dedication always brings returns. As long as I worked hard to be myself after marriage and didn't rely on anyone, I would never be looked down upon. And precisely because of this, in Mark’s eyes, it confirmed that I was just a fool who only knew how to talk about love. He took all the benefits I brought for granted. But when it came to an eight-thousand-dollar hospital deposit, it was like cutting his flesh, directly negating all my contributions over the past two years. As we were talking, the girl from the next bed was wheeled back in. She had given birth to a son. Her recovery was going relatively smoothly; she would be able to walk soon. The girl handed me her phone: "Hey girl, I recorded the part where you guys were arguing earlier. Could you use it later?" My family and I exchanged a glance: "Absolutely! Thank you so much!" It turns out there are still more good people in this world. After a night of rest, Mark and his mother came storming back in. As soon as he entered, he threw a divorce agreement at me: "I have nothing left to say. I don't want to see a shameless woman like you for another day! Sign it." My dad picked up the agreement and skimmed it: "Mark, after two years of marriage, our Chloe just went through the hardship of giving birth, and you're forcing a divorce and demanding a massive compensation? What kind of logic is this?" Mark shot a cold glance at the baby: "Let her tell you herself, whose bastard is this exactly?" "Yours," I raised my eyes and looked at him: "I was just saying that to piss you off before, so I spoke without thinking." "Bullshit!" The old hag lunged forward: "If you say it is, it is? Now we are taking the baby for a DNA test, and the results will be final. Otherwise, you are definitely paying back the $20,000 wedding costs and $60,000 in emotional damages!" I pulled the baby closer into my arms: "I'm sorry, but absolutely no one is randomly testing my child's DNA. I say the child belongs to whoever I say it belongs to. I accept no rebuttals." After speaking, I curled the corners of my lips and pushed the credit card toward him: "From now on, all of the baby's expenses will come out of this card, including Mrs. Gable's salary, the baby's formula, early education, insurance, and all living expenses. Since I won't be able to work for the next two years because I have to take care of the child, I'll trouble you to transfer $30,000 first. That should be about enough." Mark looked like his eyes were about to tear open: "Chloe, you've gone fucking crazy from being poor! $30,000? Why don't you just go rob someone?" I looked up at him, the smile reaching my eyes: "Robbing people is illegal. Robbing the child's father is perfectly justified." Chapter 2 5 Mark froze for two seconds: "Showing your true colors now, are we? Is this your real face?" I brushed my bangs aside: "That's right, I'm done pretending. Oh right, for the past two years of marriage, Mrs. Gable's nanny fees and our joint living expenses total $25,000. You might as well pay that off, too." "In your fucking dreams!" Mark dropped a harsh threat: "That money was all a voluntary gift from your parents. I will absolutely not pay for your family's extravagant behavior!" With that, he grabbed his mother's arm and stormed out the door. The loud slam of the door made my daughter flinch, and I quickly patted her gently. Since I could see the end of this road, there was no need to leave any room for negotiation. "How about you come home with us after you're discharged? I won't feel at ease leaving you here," my mom tentatively suggested while coaxing the baby. I shook my head: "Although I've been away from home for two years, with Mrs. Gable taking care of me, I haven't suffered the slightest grievance. That's the confidence you and Dad gave me. Furthermore, I haven't collected the debts owed to me yet. I absolutely cannot just let this go." A week later, I was finally discharged. During this time, Mark and his mother never visited. And Mark used these few days to scour through dashcams and home security footage, hoping to find evidence of my infidelity. He even stormed over to his two buddies' houses and caused a huge scene. The two men were completely bewildered. In the end, he found absolutely nothing. Meaning, he had no grounds to file a lawsuit. Meanwhile, using the excuse of my husband abandoning me, verbally abusing me, and refusing to pay the hospital deposit during childbirth, I simply rented a three-bedroom apartment in another neighborhood. I also arranged a room for my parents. Then, I sent a screenshot of the $6,000 rent payment to Mark: "This is the rent for me and the baby for the next year. Remember to transfer the money. After all, it's joint marital debt, you can't dodge it." At this point, he finally went crazy. Looking at the hundreds of missed calls on my phone, I let out a long, stale breath. "What exactly are you trying to do?" Good question. "I want you to be left with absolutely nothing!" 6 Many people know that only daughters like us are reasonable, know right from wrong, and hold proper moral values. But what they don't know is that we also fiercely despise evil and tolerate no injustice. I am not lacking in love, so when I pull away, I never drag my feet. Eight thousand dollars might seem like a lot to him, but in my eyes, it's just the price of a dog's life. So, in the following days, I didn't reply to a single one of the reconciliation messages Mark sent. I knew he was waiting for an opportunity. An opportunity to successfully get my daughter's DNA. How could I let him get what he wanted so easily? After all, it would be much more fun to let the judge personally reveal this opportunity. Three days later, my phone rang. It was Mike's wife, Nora. I thought she was calling to interrogate me, but her first sentence caught me completely off guard. "I know you and Mike are clean. Who would want that scumbag anyway? But I have something to tell you: Mark has someone else on the side." I sharply inhaled— "Someone on the side?" "Yes, he would hide this from you, but not from his drinking buddies. I accidentally heard them talking about it when they were drunk. She's a VIP bottle girl at a club. She's been with him for almost a year. They hooked up right around the time you got pregnant." "What?" A buzzing sound filled my ears. My memory flashed through all the signs he'd shown over the past year. Excuses to sleep in separate rooms, suddenly changing his phone password, working overtime more and more frequently, coming home later and later. It turns out this scumbag was only stingy with his own wife. Yet incredibly generous to outsiders. "So what are you planning to do next?" The voice on the phone pulled me back to reality. I rubbed my temples hard: "I don't know, I need to sort this out properly. If the mistress charge sticks, it'll count as evidence of major fault during the marriage. What about you? How far along is your situation?" The other party sighed deeply: "I lost. Even though he gave me an STD, it can't be used as evidence of his infidelity. The first instance dismissed the divorce petition. I have to wait six months to file again. Why are women's lives so bitter?" "So you have no leads on a mistress?" "I do, but I have no evidence to prove they are having an affair. The mistress works at a massage parlor, and Mike likes to get massages. On the surface, all the transactions look normal; it can't count as evidence of maliciously transferring marital assets." My mind raced: "Then how about this: you scrape together some money and buy that massage parlor, or buy shares in it. Once you're the boss, won't you be able to check the store's books? When he comes for a massage, arrange a few extra girls for him. It's just moving money from the left hand to the right." The woman fell silent for a long time... "Buy the shop? I've never run a business before. What if... what if I lose money?" I scoffed: "If you lose money, you lose money! You aren't divorced yet, are you? You were forced to invest and run a business in order to maintain family stability. Men have their schemes, and we women have our strategies." "If you make money, you control the cash flow. If you lose money, naturally someone has to cover the losses for you. This is the greatest protection the law gives us primary wives! Doesn't he want to avoid divorce? Doesn't he want to drag this out and stall? Let him." The woman took a sharp breath: "Holy shit, I never even considered this angle! I've been playing defense the whole time and couldn't defend against anything. I didn't realize I could go on the offensive! Okay, I'm going to figure out a way to get the money tomorrow!" Hanging up the phone, I began to formulate my own counter-kill strategy. A club girl? Alright, you've upped the difficulty for me.
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