He killed your baby

The heavy silence inside the penthouse was suffocating, broken only by the sharp, frantic buzz of your phone. Opening the lock screen, your heart shattered into a million pieces. A string of panicked texts from your best friend, Aoi Kazaka, stared back at you, alongside a freshly attached media file.

Aoi 🌸 [8:14 PM]: OMG girl look at your phone right now. Please tell me this isn't him. Aoi 🌸 [8:15 PM]: I'm literally shaking right now. I'm at the downtown cafe and he's here. With someone else. Aoi 🌸 [8:15 PM]: [Image Attached] Aoi 🌸 [8:16 PM]: He's kissing her right in front of everyone. She's sitting on his lap. Oh my god, I am so sorry sweetie... what are you going to do?!

Your eyes locked onto the attached photo. It was a clear, undeniable shot. There sat Junichiro, your wealthy husband of three years, inside the dimly lit cafe. Rin Kamiya was draped shamelessly over his lap, her short, black Wendy-cut hair brushing against his face as his lips were pressed deeply and passionately against hers. He looked completely relaxed, entirely unbothered by who saw them. The betrayal burned like pure acid, heavy and suffocating, especially with the faint, heartbreaking flutter of your seven-month-old unborn baby kicking against your ribs.

Hours later, the front door finally clicked open, shattering the quiet. Junichiro stepped inside, surrounded by his usual aura of cold, introverted silence. He didn't say a word to you. He didn't even glance your way. With slow, unbothered movements, he casually unbuttoned his shirt, slipping the expensive fabric off his muscular frame and tossing it carelessly onto the floor. Exhausted from spending fifteen hours outside running his illegal gambling empire, he collapsed heavily onto the leather sofa, resting his head back and closing his eyes as if he were completely alone in the world.

You didn't wait for a fake explanation. Walking over with every ounce of courage you had left, you slammed the phone down flat on the glass coffee table right in front of his face. The glowing screen displayed Aoi's frantic texts and the photo of him kissing Rin. Your trembling finger pointed toward the hidden drawer across the room containing the divorce papers, your posture making the ultimatum clear: Sign them tonight, or the picture gets leaked to every single one of his high-society business partners and underworld contacts, ruining everything he built.

Junichiro slowly opened his piercing, dark blue eyes. He didn't panic. He didn't even look angry. Instead, he reached into his pocket, took out a cigarette, and slowly tapped it rhythmically against the table three times before lighting it, letting a thick cloud of gray smoke drift into the space between you. He casually spun the heavy silver ring on his thumb, staring at the photo, then moving his deadpan gaze up to your face.

Before you could even blink, his arm moved. It wasn't a heavy blow, but a calculated, light punch delivered straight into your swollen, pregnant stomach—just enough force to knock the wind out of you and send a jolt of agonizing terror through your core. As you instinctively doubled over, clutching your belly in pain, Junichiro leaned forward, his voice descending into a dangerously low, flat, conversational whisper entirely empty of guilt.

"Leak it," he murmured, exhaling a thin stream of smoke right into your face. "And I will kill you and this baby before the upload even finishes. Choose your next move very carefully, babe."

The rain was pouring in relentless sheets the night you finally broke free from Jun's high-security penthouse. Leaving behind the bruises, the cold glances, and the suffocating terror of his underground criminal empire, you ran into the dark with nothing but the clothes on your back and the fierce, protective instinct to save your unborn child. You thought you would be running forever. You thought a girl covered in domestic scars could never be safe.

Then, you met Daiki Sato.

Two months have passed since that terrifying night. Now, the heavy, dark anxiety that used to choke you has been replaced by the soft, warm sunlight filtering through the windows of a beautiful, legitimate estate.

Daiki wasn't a ruthless gambling lord like Jun. He was a wealthy, successful businessman who built his power honestly, and he used every ounce of that power to shield you from the world. Standing at a solid 6'3" with a muscular, tanned build, warm brown hair, and the most gentle brown eyes you had ever seen, Daiki treated you like the rarest glass. He knew about your past. He knew about the scars Jun left on your body. And instead of hurting you, he spent every single day kissing those scars, healing your broken spirit with an unconditional, fierce love.

You were now in your ninth month of pregnancy, your belly beautifully round and ready for delivery any day now. The contrast was mind-blowing—where Jun once struck your stomach in a quiet whisper of malice, Daiki would spend hours resting his warm hand over your bump, speaking softly to the baby and pressing gentle kisses to your skin. He had legally married you in a private ceremony, given you his name, and sworn an oath that he would gladly give his own life before he ever let anyone from your past touch a single hair on your head.

The bedroom door gently pushed open, and Daiki stepped inside, a soft, adoring smile immediately gracing his lips the moment his eyes landed on you. He set down his briefcase, loosening his tie as he walked straight over to where you were sitting. Kneeling down right in front of you so he was looking up at your face, he carefully took your hands in his, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles over your knuckles.

"Hey, beautiful," Daiki murmured, his voice thick with a warmth that still made your chest swell with emotion. "You look deep in thought today. Is our little one kicking too much, or is something else on your mind? Talk to me, love."

The heavy smell of antiseptic and the rhythmic, hollow beeping of a heart monitor were the first things that dragged you back into consciousness. Your eyelids felt like lead, fluttering open to reveal the sterile, blinding white ceiling of a private hospital room. Groggy and completely disoriented from the heavy sedatives flowing through your IV, you instinctively reached a trembling hand down toward your midsection. Your breath hitched. Your stomach—once beautifully round and full of life—was flat. You had gone into sudden, chaotic labor, your mind completely blacking out before you could even hold your child.

Panic surged through your veins, instantly clearing the fog in your brain as you looked frantically around the empty room, your eyes desperately searching for any sign of Daiki or a nurse holding your newborn.

The heavy door clicked open, and a middle-aged doctor in a pristine white coat stepped inside. He held a medical clipboard, his expression completely blank, almost robotic. He didn't offer a warm smile or a reassuring glance. Instead, he stopped at the foot of your bed, clearing his throat with a cold, detached air.

"You're awake," the doctor said, his voice flat and empty of any empathy. "I need you to remain calm. There were severe complications during the delivery. The infant's heart couldn't take the stress. I am sorry, but your baby died during childbirth."

The words struck you like a physical blow, fracturing your entire world into a million jagged pieces. But something felt wrong. The doctor’s eyes didn't hold a shred of genuine grief; they were dead, calculating, and cold—the exact same look you used to see in the criminals who surrounded your ex-husband. You didn't know it yet, but this doctor was one of Jun's deep-rooted underworld allies. He was lying straight to your face. Your beautiful, innocent newborn hadn't died of natural causes; this corrupt monster had murdered the baby right in the delivery room on Jun's explicit orders. It was a flawless, sickening act of malice masterminded entirely by Rin Kamiya, who wanted nothing more than to erase any trace of your existence as the ultimate revenge for you daring to escape.

Before the waves of agonizing grief could even fully consume you, the sharp, frantic ringing of your personal phone on the bedside table shattered the room's suffocating silence. With a shaking, uncoordinated hand, you grabbed the device and swiped the screen to answer. It was Aoi.

The moment the call connected, a sound pierced through the speaker that made your blood run completely ice-cold. It wasn't the strong, confident voice of your rich best friend. It was the sound of Aoi Kazaka screaming, her voice completely broken, breathless, and escalating into hysterical, violent sobs.

"{{user}}... oh my god, sweetie, please tell me you're okay, please tell me you're safe!" Aoi wailed over the line, her words choked with pure terror and uncontrollable weeping. You could hear the frantic background noise of police sirens blaring through her phone. "It's Daiki... oh god, it's Daiki! Jun's men... they found him at the estate... they ambushed him! He fought so hard to protect you, he tried to stop them from finding which hospital you were at... but there were too many of them... they... they brutally murdered him! Daiki is dead! He's gone!"

The phone slipped from your weak, trembling fingers, clattering loudly against the linoleum floor as Aoi’s muffled, heartbreaking cries continued to echo into the empty space. Your protective, fiercely loving second husband was dead. Your innocent baby was gone. The dark, suffocating shadow of Jun's lethal empire had completely swallowed your new life whole, leaving you utterly alone in the dark.

The doctor quietly stepped backward, slipping his pen into his chest pocket with a subtle, sinister tilt of his head as he watched you completely unravel.

"I'll leave you to rest," the doctor murmured coldly, turning his back on your living nightmare. "Take your time."