CHAPTER 4

“YOU'RE still not pregnant, Miss Choi,” the doctor said, his eyes fixed on the monitor in front of him. His voice was calm, professional but the words hit Cindy like a cold wave.

She looked down at her hands resting on her lap, fidgeting nervously. Her fingers twisted the hem of her dress as a lump formed in her throat. She was on the verge of crying again, the helplessness of the moment pressing down on her chest.

“It could be because of your emotional state, Miss,” the doctor continued gently. “I advise you not to overthink everything. Try to let go of your worries. If you need a change of perspective, perhaps a trip to somewhere peaceful, surrounded by nature… maybe even with your husband, if possible.”

Cindy said nothing.

‘How can a trip like that happen when my husband won’t even take a look at me?’

Her lips parted slightly, but no words came.

Then she felt the weight of three years pressing down on her—the quiet tension in her marriage, the constant pressure and the unspoken expectations. It had been long enough that any hope she had felt like it was slipping through her fingers.

“For three years of marriage, it’s not unusual to not have a child,” the doctor added, trying to soften the blow. “But if you truly want to get pregnant, it’s crucial to reduce stress. And remember, if you have any questions later, you can call me anytime. Understood?”

Cindy finally lifted her eyes to meet his, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I see… I will do that, Doctor. Thank you… for your help.”

Even as she spoke the words, her heart felt heavy, a quiet ache that no smile could hide. She nodded politely but inside, she carried the weight of disappointment and longing, alone in a world that seemed determined to remind her of everything she had yet to achieve—

or everything that seemed just out of reach.

When Cindy came home and finally reached the door to their bedroom, she froze. When a sound stopped her in her tracks—moaning, urgent and unmistakable, coming from inside.

Her hand hovered over the doorknob, trembling slightly.

“A-Alex, w-wait…” Her voice trembled, wet with need and panic, breath catching between words.

“Why? Can’t you take me?” Alexander’s low, teasing voice pressed into her ear as his hands gripped her hips, holding her flush against him.

“I-I c-can… b-but what if Cindy comes home and sees us like this?” She tried to push back slightly but her body betrayed her, pressing into him, responding to his touch.

“Oh, Cindy? Don’t mind her. She won’t leave even if she sees us like this. You know, that woman loves me like crazy,” he said with lips curving into a mocking smile as his hands roamed her body, sliding under the thin fabric of her blouse to cup her breasts while his thumbs was brushing over her hardened nipples.

“B-but… Hngh! W-wait, not too fast!” she gasped, her knees weakening as he pressed himself fully against her, the heat of him overwhelming.

Then Alexander laughed low and dark, his mouth capturing hers in a possessive, demanding kiss. Tongues tangled, lips crushed together, her soft moans muffled against his mouth as his hands moved with purpose—kneading, gripping and teasing.

He also slid one hand down her stomach, into the waistband of her skirt while brushing over the slick that had already pooled there.

She arched into him, unable to resist with her fingers tangling in his hair as she gasped and shivered. Every touch of his hand, every press of his body was deliberate, claiming, dominating and she couldn’t stop the needy whines that escaped her throat.

Then, after a moment, Alexander’s mouth traveled to her neck, teeth grazing her skin lightly, leaving wet, hungry kisses as his hands roamed lower, slipping under her panties, sliding over her folds while eliciting a sharp cry from her.

Making her trembled, wet and desperate while being caught between protest and pleasure.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he murmured, his voice rough as his fingers worked her, pumping and stroking in perfect rhythm with his hard cock pressed against her. She moaned his name, clinging to him, rocking back against his hand as she shivered under the intensity.

Every gasp, every moan and every cry of his name made him laugh low and cruel, driving them both higher.

She was melting into him, wet and pliant, lost entirely to his touch, body arching, pressing and begging for more.

While they are both drowned in happiness and pleasure, Cindy was there.

Her body stiffened, her fingers gripping the doorknob so tightly that it ached. She could hear their laughter mingling with the moans, a cruel soundtrack that made her chest tighten. Then heat and shame and something deeper—pain—washed over her in waves.

For a moment, she couldn’t move, couldn’t think.

Her vision blurred slightly as a lump formed in her throat. Every instinct screamed at her to retreat, to disappear, to erase herself from the sound of their pleasure and mockery.

But she stayed frozen, caught between disbelief and the bitter ache of betrayal, listening helplessly as the voices continued inside her own home—the home she shared, the life she was supposed to be part of, unraveling right in front of her.

While Cindy went to the guest room, drowning in her own emotions, a servant lingered nearby with a phone pressed to her ear, speaking in hushed, urgent tones.

“When will the plan be?” she asked, his voice low, careful not to carry too far.

“Don’t worry about it,” came the reply on the other end. “Just focus on your job. Boss hasn’t said a word to me either for the past two days.”

The servant let out a long, frustrated sigh, running a hand through her hair. “Alright… but tell them to hurry. Or else, she might do something to herself. She’s not stable right now and I can’t do a thing. Besides…” She paused, a bitter edge creeping into her voice. “…her jerk of a husband even brought a mistress into their home. Hah. I’m just holding myself back from feeding him poison, you know.”

“Alright, alright,” the voice on the phone replied, firm but cautious. “But hold yourself back a little more. We’re still doing the final tests. Besides, everything has to be perfect before we move.”

The servant clenched her jaw while staring at the door of the room where Cindy was.

There, her shoulders shook with quiet sobs as her hands clutching at her chest as she tried to hold herself together.

The servant swallowed, feeling a mixture of sympathy, frustration and anger. But all she could do was watch—

and wait.