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Vivienne’s POV

I was in the hospital corridor when all that ruffled over me were the words of the doctor.

“Mrs.Vivienne, the tumor in your brain has already pressed into your nerves. You must make a decision as soon as possible.”

My hands trembled. With such force, I held onto the shattered medical report with my hand, crushing all the bitter truth inside.

In recent times, I've been experiencing severe headaches that have caused me to vomit. Occasionally, nosebleeds would appear suddenly. I initially believed it was fatigue or a mild illness caused by too much stress and sleep deprivation. It was unexpected to realize that all those symptoms were just the beginning of a nightmare, as the test results indicated the presence of an abnormal growth in my brain.

My physician recommended two treatments that I should consider. Only 50 percent of patients in craniotomy surgery will be successful. My life could potentially extend beyond its current lifespan if it were to be successful. Otherwise, I might never wake up from the operating table again.

My treatment options could be conservative, with medication and chemotherapy being the only options available. Still, it would involve losing my hair, going bald, and only remaining alive for a few more years due to my body's gradual decline.

To be honest, I was terrified by the 50 percent. Since I was a child, I had been afraid of needles. The task of administering scalpels and undergoing surgery with a cold instrumentation could determine my survival or death.

Unless I had surgery, the tumor would continue to grow and cause me significant pain that ultimately led to my demise.

I closed my eyes. It was then that I could picture my husband, who is of Julian's face. Seven years had passed since we became husband and wife. I cherished his presence and wanted to extend my relationship.

Later on, a picture of my son Maximilian Fitzgerald was taken. The bright and attractive son who is the shining light of my life.

I felt brave when I thought about them both. I couldn't just give up. Having summoned all the might, I returned to my physician and declared:

“Doctor, I've made my decision. Would it be possible for me to undergo craniotomy surgery?”

My doctor glared at me with seriousness and stated, "The success rate is only fifty percent. Aren't you afraid?"

I smiled smugly and replied, "None. I have faith that my husband and son will accompany me. I'm not afraid of anything as long as I have them.”

With a nod, the doctor said, "Very well. You can schedule the surgery within a month with my assistance.”

The hospital left me with a shaken heart, but I was optimistic nonetheless. I ran for home, hoping my husband and son would join me.

When I arrived, the maid informed me that Julian was at the company. Nonetheless. The Fitzgerald Group was where I immediately went, without any hesitation.

I was about to enter the president's office when I heard a voice. The man appeared in front of it.

“If you made Ophelia your secretary, wouldn't it be shocking to Julian?”

I froze. From inside the doorway, I observed Dylan who was Julian's close friend sitting nearby.

Ophelia Ersya. I was struck by that name like lightning. How could it not? She was the woman Julian had been in love with for a decade before finally finding her.

My gaze remained fixed on Julian's desk as I breathed deeply. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the collar of his black shirt was slightly undone. He seemed like a married man, feeling cold and composed.

His voice was sly. “That's not your concern, Dylan."

With a grimace and an awkward expression, Dylan proceeded to say. "I've only ever addressed Vivienne as your wife out of respect. But, everyone around you knows your marriage is a hoax! The marriage certificate that you and your partner possess is not genuine! I'm glad you fashioned it! Haha!”

There was no indication of a turning point in the world. My visage became pale, and I froze in the entrance hall as if struck by a lightning bolt.

What did I just hear? Was Julian merely pretending to be my spouse?

Julian looked back at the door without realizing I was there.

Dylan remained curious, his voice echoing with excitement. "What the hell is up Julian? Are you planning to get rid of Vivienne, with Ophelia having her back?

My chest tightened as if by magic. The words spoken by Dylan soon made me feel sharp as a knife. I was terrified.

Vivienne's actions during her drunken seduction could have been avoided if she hadn't become pregnant and pretended to marry her for the sake of the child. It'll save their marriage.

Ophelia was left heartbroken by it. She has only returned now because she's made a full recovery.

I covered my mouth in an attempt to alleviate the nausea that was brewing inside. It was hard in my head and it started shaking all over me."

I remembered that night clearly. We had been drinking at the bar and we were there, too, with Dylan. Julian was fully cognizant of the fact that I never drugged him. Julian's business rival had done it. It was a mistake. It was I who volunteered to stay with Julian that night and rescue him.

Why did Dylan choose to twist the narrative and make me turn into the antagonist?

With a mocking expression, Dylan asked again, "When will you be ready to marry your daughter Ophelid and wed her in an opulent style with honor?"

Without a diagnosis of heart condition, Ophelia would not have had any chance to succeed, as he cruelly added. The speaker was. She was excited because she didn't want to cause you any hardship. Her position as a spouse should have been your responsibility throughout.

Eventually, Julian looked up in apparent anger. Dylan was advised to stop talking as his eyes were made sharp and cold.

He said with clarity. “Vivienne and I are already carrying Maximilian.”