Six Weeks Pregnant. The words on the ultrasound report stopped me cold. How? It had only been one time. What was I supposed to do now? Tell Fu Shenyan? Would this stop the divorce? Of course not. He’d just think I was despicable, using a child to trap him. Pushing down the turmoil coiling in my gut, I shoved the report into my purse and walked out of the hospital. Outside, a gleaming black Maybach was parked at the curb. The window was down just enough to reveal the chiseled, icy features of the man in the driver's seat. A handsome man in a luxury car—a combination that naturally turned heads. Money and good looks were Fu Shenyan's signature, and after all these years, I was immune to the attention it drew. Ignoring the stares, I slipped into the passenger seat. The man, who had been resting with his eyes closed, sensed my presence. His brow furrowed slightly, but he didn't open his eyes. "Is it handled?" he asked, his voice low. "Yes," I nodded, handing him the contract I’d just signed with the hospital. "Director Lu sends his regards." I was supposed to have come alone today, but he'd offered me a ride for reasons I couldn’t fathom. Fu Shenyan, ever a man of few words, ignored the contract. "You'll handle this case from here on out," he stated flatly, starting the car. I nodded, saying nothing more. After so much silence, I'd forgotten how to be anything but obedient. The car headed downtown. It was already evening, and he wasn't driving back to the villa. Where was he going? A question flickered in my mind, but I never pried into his affairs, so I held my tongue. My thoughts returned to the ultrasound report. I had no idea how to broach the subject. I glanced over at him. His eyes were fixed on the road, his gaze as sharp and cold as ever. "Fu Shenyan," I began, my voice tight. The hand clutching my purse was slick with nervous sweat. "Speak." The single word was ice, devoid of any emotion. He was always like this with me, a fact I'd long since accepted. I pushed down the anxiety, took a breath, and said, "I'm—" The words died in my throat as his phone rang. "Xinran, what's wrong?" Some men reserve all their warmth for one person, and Fu Shenyan's belonged entirely to Lu Xinran. I couldn't hear what Lu Xinran said, but Fu Shenyan suddenly slammed on the brakes. He soothed into the phone, "Okay, I'll be right there. Don't go anywhere." After hanging up, the mask of ice slammed back into place. His eyes met mine. "Get out." A command that left no room for argument. This wasn't the first time. I swallowed the words I couldn't say, opened the door, and got out. Our marriage was both an accident and a matter of fate, but it had nothing to do with love. Fu Shenyan's heart belonged to Lu Xinran; my presence was a formality at best, an obstacle at worst. Two years ago, Old Master Fu, laid low by a heart attack, had forced Fu Shenyan to marry me from his deathbed. Reluctant but bound by filial duty, he’d complied. As long as his grandfather was alive, Fu Shenyan treated me like I was invisible. But now that the old man had breathed his last, he couldn't wait to have his lawyer draw up the divorce papers, waiting only for my signature. By the time I returned to the villa, darkness had fallen. The vast house was hauntingly empty. I had no appetite, likely a symptom of the pregnancy, so I went straight to my room, washed up, and climbed into bed. I was drifting in that hazy space before deep sleep when I faintly heard a car engine cutting out in the courtyard. Fu Shenyan was back? But… wasn't he with Lu Xinran?