Arknights Cement

"Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it." He added, his eyes fixed on her and Anita rolled her eyes, why was he talking too much? Was he always like this?  "Don't feel so good about yourself Alexander; I didn't. I was only trying to make a baby." She snapped.   "But yet you forgot your pants." Alexander teased her again, and her mouth opened, then closed.  —---- Amid her beautiful face and rising fame, Anita harbors a secret mission–to save her child. The world may think she was in Los Angeles to cement her acting career but deep down, she had just one objective and aim. She needed to save her son, who suffers from blood cancer.  For that, Anita would need to go back to her worst nightmares. She was willing to go to great lengths to achieve this goal, including getting pregnant with Alexander's child and involving herself with her step-sister who regards Anita as a competitor. Even if it means stealing Alexander's sperm! Alexander was informed of the stolen sperm and after much investigation found out that Anita's son was a result of the one night many years ago. Alexander wasn't ready to let go. He wanted them as his family but Anita wanted no relationship. Anita also seeks justice and wants to reveal the truth about the events that transpired between her and Alexander in the past. She aims to regain control over her life and overcome the challenges thrown her way.

In the late stages of her pregnancy, my wife slipped away into the mountains with her childhood sweetheart, seeking some reckless thrill under the open sky. Fate, however, had other plans. She suffered a massive hemorrhage, and the two were rushed to the hospital. As a doctor, I took one glance at her condition and instructed the nurse to prepare for the cremation. In my previous life, I had risked everything to save her. On that very operating table, she and the child inside her perished together. Her childhood sweetheart, overcome with grief and fury, rallied others to accuse me of seeking personal revenge. Their rage was relentless, and they broke my hands. "A butcher like you, without medical ethics, deserves nothing less than eternal damnation!" they shouted, their words burning like brands on my soul. Yet I distinctly remembered—the surgery had been a success. Her vital signs had stabilized. Clinging to hope, I begged my in-laws to conduct an autopsy, to uncover the truth buried beneath the accusations. Instead, they called the police, who swiftly charged me with performing surgery under the influence of alcohol. Stripped of my rights, I was thrown into prison, where suffering became my only companion. Years later, upon release, I stumbled across a sight that tore what was left of my heart to shreds—my wife, alive and well, behind the wheel of a luxury car, accompanied by her childhood sweetheart and their child, living off the fortune I had worked tirelessly to build. Their betrayal didn't end there. Coldly and methodically, they lured me into a trap, casting me into a cement mixer to erase every trace of my existence. When I next opened my eyes, time had rewound itself. I was back on that fateful day, the one when her hemorrhage began.