Faking Death To Leave the CEO

"Go to Crystal Waves, and you'll see what you're looking for."

The voice on the phone was a young woman's, and somewhat familiar.

Gloria Seymour frowned, staring at the disconnected screen, a sense of unease rising in her chest.

Today was her third wedding anniversary with Henry Tudor, and also the day she found out she was pregnant.

But instead, she got an apologetic call from Henry, saying the company had a last-minute international meeting and he'd be home late tonight.

Crystal Waves, Emerald City's top private club.

In a luxury suite on the top floor, the air was thick with decadence.

Gloria stood outside the suite, hearing laughter from inside.

"Henry, you're really going all out for this little starlet. I heard you pulled some major strings for her.

You've been spending a lot of time with her these past three months, haven't you?"

Henry's low voice carried a lazy laugh: "Not bad. After all, she's Gloria's good friend."

Little starlet, good friend... the only person who fit that description was her best friend from college, Bianca Collins.

Just two days ago, Bianca had come to her with a cheerful face, complaining that her new boyfriend was too clingy, leaving kiss marks all over her body, making it impossible to see people.

At the time, Gloria said clingy men were good, it was a sign of love.

After all, when she and Henry were madly in love, her body was covered with his kiss marks too.

Gloria had been so happy thinking Bianca had found someone good, completely missing the flash of smugness and contempt in her eyes.

Turns out those kiss marks were left by her beloved husband.

How ironic!

Through the crack in the door, Gloria watched the man who once made promises to her, sipping his red wine with a relaxed expression.

"Gloria's very understanding. She always trusts me, never asks questions."

He crossed his legs, looking casual and at ease.

In his eyes, women fell into two categories: Gloria, and other women to fool around with.

As long as Gloria didn't know, the other women were just for excitement or release.

"But Henry, fool around all you want, just don't get anyone pregnant," someone half-joked. "That would be hard to deal with."

Henry chuckled: "Don't worry, I know what I'm doing."

"Besides," his voice lowered, carrying a condescending tolerance, "Gloria's not in good health. If I really want a kid, I can just have someone else have one."

Gloria froze.

How many ovulation shots had she endured, how much suffering had she gone through, just to give him a child.

And he said, finding someone else to have one was just the same.

Gloria stumbled back.

She didn't even know how she got home.

At night，the door opened. Henry was back.

"Honey, why didn't you turn on the light?"

He carefully turned on the bedside lamp.

Gloria squinted, adjusting to the light.

At the same time, she saw the faint but visible kiss mark on Henry's neck, and caught the scent of women's perfume on him.

So all along, she'd trusted them too much—trusted her husband and her best friend—which is why she never noticed these things.

And made them bold enough not to even bother covering up.

Seeing her like this, Henry thought Gloria was upset about the anniversary. He coaxed her gently.

"It's my fault. I should have canceled the meeting early to be with you. Don't be mad anymore, okay?"

Watching Henry's act of devotion, Gloria suddenly felt it was all so boring.

Just like the tears she couldn't cry.

She shook her head and pouted like usual.

"Then you better remember next time. I won't be mad this time!"

Her cute manner was just like always. Henry didn't notice anything wrong and felt relieved.

"Okay, let me take a shower first, then I'll come keep you company."

He ruffled her hair and headed into the bathroom.

After he went in, Gloria's eyes turned ice cold.

She looked down at her flat stomach, at the secret she had been cherishing all day.

"My child," she whispered, "You deserve better than this."

Then she took out her phone and opened a contact she hadn't used in three years.

Her thumb hovered over the name.

Since her wedding, this man, as if in a fit of pique, has not contacted her again.