Mr.CEO I’ll Never Forgive You Chapter 01
After my abortion, I scrolled past a post.
“What is your partner’s get-out-of-jail-free card?”
I pondered for a moment, just about to reply: “During the earthquake, he shielded me under his body…”
But an explosive comment suddenly caught my attention.
“I’m a high-end escort, but I met true love. Not only is he handsome and fit, but he’s also incredibly generous. He booked me for thirty years in one go and clings to me every day, leaving my waist sore and legs weak!”
“As for his get-out-of-jail-free card, his wife finally got pregnant through IVF, and I casually mentioned I didn’t want a little brat competing with me for his affection in the future. So he directly forged the Down syndrome screening report, tricked his wife into thinking the baby had Down syndrome, and forced her to abort it.”
With that, she dropped a picture.
Under the dim light, a large, well-knuckled hand was wrapped around a woman’s waist.
“Now he insists on holding me even when he sleeps. Tsk tsk, he really can’t leave me.”
Seeing the scar on the man’s hand, the blood in my entire body instantly froze.
This scar was exactly the same as the one my husband got during the earthquake years ago.
…
The comment section was full of curses.
Facing this backlash, the woman felt no shame. Instead, her arrogance grew, her words dripping with blatant showing off.
“I’m the mistress?
Hilarious. The one who isn’t loved is the real third wheel, okay!
What’s wrong with doing whatever it takes to pursue true love? You’re all just jealous that I found such a perfect true love.”
Someone agreed with her, and she excitedly replied:
“You’re the only one who gets me, babe!
His wife has uterine issues, and this baby was hard-won through IVF. His wife hoped for years, yet it was aborted just because of simple words from me. If this isn’t true love, what is?”
“It’ll be hard for his wife to get pregnant again in the future, but he said that from now on, only I am allowed to bear his children.”
“Hehe, once I succeed in usurping the wife, I’ll share my experience with you all. Right now he’s clinging to me and wants it again, let me go serve him first.”
I stared fixedly at these comments, my heart growing colder and colder.
A week ago, I was resting at home to protect my pregnancy.
Alexander Sterling suddenly returned looking utterly defeated and handed me a test report.
It showed that the fetus met the characteristics of Down syndrome.
At that moment, my world collapsed.
I slumped to the floor, crying my heart out, and asked Alexander if there was any way to keep the baby.
Alexander lowered his head, holding me tightly, his eyes also red: “Honey, this is the amniocentesis report, it’s 100% accurate. We have to abort it; we can’t let the child be born to suffer.”
He accompanied me to get the abortion.
The five-month-old baby eventually became a bloody, mangled mess of flesh.
This past week, I lived like a walking corpse, feeling worse than dead.
Alexander pushed aside all his work, taking care of me without leaving my side.
It wasn’t until today, seeing my emotions settle, that he said he needed to return to the company to handle work.
Staring at that photo, I pinched myself hard and bit my tongue fiercely.
It seemed only by doing this could I relieve the suffocating feeling.
After calming down, I followed the woman’s account and sent Alexander a message.
“Are you still working overtime at the company?”
A reply came quickly:
“Yes, what’s wrong, honey?”
I didn’t reply, immediately taking a taxi to his company.
Our years of love couldn’t be doubted just because of a few baseless comments.
Whether it was true or false, I had to see it for myself.
Arriving downstairs at his company, I happened to run into his assistant.
He looked at me with a face full of surprise:
“Ma’am, what brings you here?”
I didn’t say a word, walking past him into the elevator and heading up to Alexander’s office.
I pushed the door open and walked right in.
The empty scene I had anticipated didn’t happen.
In the spacious office, Alexander was sitting upright in his leather chair, his features sharp.
Hearing the noise, he looked up, raised an eyebrow in surprise, and spoke with a hint of teasing:
“Honey?
What, you don’t trust me, so you came to check up on me?”
Looking at that familiar face, the heart that had been in my throat all the way here finally settled.
Grievance and lingering fear instantly surged up; my eyes grew hot, and I almost instinctively wanted to throw myself into his arms.
“Don’t come closer!”
Alexander suddenly let out a muffled growl, stopping me in my tracks.
I froze in place, only to see him pinching the bridge of his nose, looking unwell.
“Be good, I think I’ve caught a cold. You just had surgery and your immune system is weak, so don’t get too close, lest I infect you.”
He seemed genuinely uncomfortable; cold sweat continuously rolled down his temples, his breathing was rapid, and his face was flushed.
Suppressed, low pants occasionally escaped from his throat.
My heart immediately tightened:
“Alexander, why don’t we go to the hospital.”
But when I caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye, my whole body stiffened.
The reflective glass on the side mirrored the silhouette of a woman hiding under the desk.
