Chapter 9 Treating a Pillow Like a Son?

“Lia…” Anna’s eyes filled with tears, brimming with disappointment—as if she couldn’t believe Lia would ever do such a thing.

Her words, along with Lena’s, sent Konrad into a rage. His face turned crimson as he roared, “I’ll tell Father right now! You’re finished here! From this day forward, you have nothing to do with our family!”

Lena was overjoyed, her sobs swelling until her face was almost swollen. She and Anna had always expected to inherit their father’s fortune and the Wagner estate. Their father treasured Gudrun’s unborn child. Now that Lia had “pushed” Gudrun and cost him his son, she would never regain her place.

Amid the chaos, Lia only arched a brow. “Kick me out?” She gave a sharp laugh. “Don’t flatter yourselves. Even all of you together don’t matter half as much to Grandfather as I do.”

Her words cut like a knife, striking Konrad’s softest spot. His hair stood on end; veins bulged on his neck. With a roar, he charged.

“I should have killed you at birth! You’ll destroy this family!”

He raised his hand and swung.

But to Lia, his movements slowed—as if the world had dropped into slow motion. She caught his wrist midair. Her grip turned into an eagle’s claw; her body spun, and her leg shot out.

The kick whistled through the air, stopping just inches from his face.

Gasps filled the room. No one moved.

When had Lia become this powerful?

She leaned forward, gripping Konrad’s hand with one arm, her entire body steady and balanced, eyes glittering with cold intent. Konrad tried to recoil, but his limbs refused to obey. Fear flickered in his eyes.

“You… you wretch! You’d really dare hit me?”

“I’m not stupid enough to just stand here and let you,” Lia said coolly, pulling back. She let out a soft laugh, dripping with disdain. “Truth is, the three of you together? I don’t even care.”

Gudrun’s nails dug into her palms. Rage simmered under her skin. But then she noticed Lia’s eyes—glacial, merciless. A chill ran through her. Quickly, she sagged into Konrad’s arms, moaning faintly, pretending she was in agony.

Konrad panicked, clutching her hands. “Gudrun, hold on! The ambulance is on its way!”

Her lips trembled. “Konrad… promise me, don’t hurt Lia. She’s young, she didn’t mean it…”

“You’re still defending her? After what she’s done?” Konrad’s voice shook with fury.

“Konrad…” Gudrun whispered weakly, her pleading eyes misting over.

The more she begged for Lia, the more Konrad pitied her. His jaw tightened. “I’ll tell Father everything. This bastard is no daughter of mine. From today on, the Wagners don’t have her name!”

Gudrun’s heart leapt. She lowered her lashes to hide the joy in her eyes, and when she glanced sideways at Lia, she quickly shifted back to a sorrowful mask.

Lia clapped slowly, laughing. “Bravo, Ms. Eisendorf. Your acting is flawless. A shame you never took to the stage. You’d be perfect at playing a mistress—it’s clearly your specialty.”

Gudrun blanched. She loathed being reminded of her past, and Lia’s jabs at her being a mistress drove her mad.

“They say art imitates life. No wonder you’re so convincing—it doesn’t even feel like acting.” Lia’s eyes dropped to Gudrun’s stomach, a cold smile curling her lips. “What’s the matter? Are you so deep in the role you can’t stop? Treating a pillow like it’s your baby? Have you lost your mind?”

Konrad nearly exploded, but one glare from Lia froze the words in his throat.

Lia ignored him. She knelt down and slipped her hand under Gudrun’s wide skirts.

Gudrun paled. She clutched her belly. “What are you doing?”

Lia only smiled, a predator’s smile. She pried Gudrun’s legs apart and felt the lump hidden beneath her clothes.

Gudrun’s eyes filled with panic.

To stage her “miscarriage,” she had tied blood-filled bags to her body. As Lia pressed, more of the liquid spilled down.

Suddenly, Lia yanked hard—and pulled out the blood-soaked pillow.

The room fell silent.

Anna’s face twisted with frustration. Lena was slack-jawed, utterly stunned.

“Oh my,” Lia drawled, rising to her feet, a mocking smile dancing on her lips. She tossed the pillow into Konrad’s arms. “A premature birth, was it? Take a look, Father. At your age, do you really think you can still sire a son? This is the precious heir you’ve been cherishing.”

Her blue eyes narrowed to slits. “When you’re done mourning, bury that pillow. Maybe with a bottle of tomato sauce.”

She turned on her heel to leave.

Konrad froze, staring blankly at the bloodied fabric in his arms.

Inside the villa, chaos exploded.

“Konrad, it’s not what you think! Let me explain—” Gudrun’s voice cracked.

“Dad, Mom didn’t mean it, it’s all a misunderstanding!” Anna and Lena cried.

“Gudrun! How could you stoop so low? You’ve truly disappointed me!” Konrad’s roar shook the walls.

Outside, Lia tilted her head back and exhaled slowly. The breath eased some of the ache in her chest, but not all. Revenge had always been her goal—but now, standing on its edge, it left her hollow.

A sedan rolled up to the villa gates. Ludwig stepped out, tall and stern.

“Lia?” His eyes lit up in surprise. He strode over quickly. “What are you doing here?”

She forced a smile. “Ludwig…”

His voice softened. “What happened?”

She paused, then murmured, “Nothing. My eyes just feel sore.”

His gaze shifted past her to the villa, where shouting still echoed. “Wait here.” He patted her shoulder and strode inside.

Lia lingered, adjusting her collar, then turned to go. She pulled out her phone to text him—but deleted her drafts again and again, unable to find the words.

Finally, she shoved the phone into her bag.

Across the street, a black sedan idled. A man stood beside it, tall and rigid, his silhouette cutting against the night.

Lia lifted her eyes—and for a moment, tears threatened to spill.