Chapter 2 It’s Best for a B*stard to Get Miscarried

• Norman’s roars drew the gazes of countless passersby. Those gazes were like icy knives, piercing and slicing at Diane’s flesh until she was completely bloodied.
• “What do you mean, Norman?” Her hand covered her face as she looked at Norman, uncomprehending and hurt. “I booked a room at the Stardust Hotel on your birthday, and we rested there for a while after your birthday celebrations. Have you forgotten that?”
• “When did I rest there with you? Diane, don’t you f*cking dare try to claim that this bastard is mine. I left that day after Stella said that her stomach felt unwell. I didn’t wake you up when I saw you sleeping. Tell me, which guy did you end up doing it with after that?”
• Norman’s yelling struck Diane, leaving her utterly confused. Meanwhile, the ultrasound results in her hand drifted to the ground. She unconsciously ran a hand over her flat stomach as she stared at Norman in a stunned manner.
• Just then, Stella’s sneering voice entered her ears. “That hotel has plenty of male escorts, Diane. Which one did you go for? At the very least, you should figure out who the child’s actual father is.”
• “I never hired an escort!” Diane yelled as she broke down. Stella simply glanced at her stomach and chuckled coldly.
• “If you didn’t hire one, how did that child come to be? I never knew that you were such a woman, Diane—to think that Norman treated you so well.”
• What kind of woman was she? This woman before Diane was her best friend. They worked at the same company, yet that woman went behind Diane’s back and tumbled into the same bed as her husband. She even deliberately called Norman away that night. In other words, everything that happened today had been caused by Stella.
• Diane glared fiercely at Stella. The little bit of reason she still had immediately disappeared into the ether due to Stella’s purposeful derision and provocation. She raised her hand again, wishing for nothing more than to smack Stella into a whirling storm of dust. Despite Stella’s heavily pregnant belly, she was nimble; she ducked behind Norman and said in a deliberately sweetened voice, “Look at her, Norman. She clearly got an escort because she couldn’t withstand her own frustration, and she’s here trying to hit me.”
• “Enough, Diane. Get out of my sight. I do not want to see you.” With a darkened face, Norman grabbed hold of Diane’s arm and hurled her to the side with a powerful swing. Diane stumbled backward and ended up falling before she rolled down the stairs. Immediately, the pain in her belly spread throughout her body. After rolling down several stories worth of steps, she came to a stop on the icy cold concrete floor.
• This was the first time Diane felt her life slipping away from her fingers. It seemed like a knife was inside her body, carving out pieces of her flesh. She didn’t even have the strength to call for help; all she could do was curl up on the ground and tremble.
• Many bystanders soon gathered around her, but none of them voluntarily reached out to help her. They simply looked at Norman and Stella, urging them to quickly send her to hospital.
• Norman stood at the top of the stairs as he coldly eyed Diane. There was no warmth in his expression as disgust filled his eyes.
• “It’s best for a b*stard to get miscarried.”
• Those cruel words pierced Diane’s eardrums. As she gazed at Norman’s loathing expression, she couldn’t hold herself together anymore and promptly fell unconscious.
• By the time she came around, she was already in the hospital. No one told her who sent her there; all she knew was that her child was gone.
• Nonetheless, it was all right even if her child was dead. It didn’t matter whether that child was Norman’s or some nameless man’s. With her current state, she couldn’t keep the child.
• After spending three days lying in a room filled with the smell of antiseptic, Diane left the hospital. The sky outside was dark and cloudy on the day of her discharge. There were plenty of people by the hospital’s entrance, so it wasn’t easy to hail a cab. Despite waiting for ages, she didn’t manage to get an empty taxi.
• Just as Diane was planning to drag her poor, aching body over to the bus stop at the end of the road, a shiny black car stopped right before her. She initially thought that she was blocking its path, so she frantically stepped to the side to let it pass. However, the door abruptly opened right then, and a man dressed in a suit with leather shoes on his feet got out of the car to stand before her.
• “Miss Cornell, right? Our master has requested for you to get in the car.”
• “Your master?”
• Diane instinctively peered behind the man in the suit. In the backseat of the car was another man looking at her.
• The man was dressed in a white shirt, and the collar of his shirt was slightly open to complete his simple but elegant outfit. His jaw was narrow, and his nose was high. His brows—seemingly the shade of ink—were sharp and pleasantly shaped, but a cold light glimmered in his pitch-black eyes. His face was devoid of any expression; even his eyes were chilly.
• It was just a single glance, but Diane suddenly felt as though she had known the man—it even felt like they had known each other for a long time, but she still couldn’t remember who he was despite careful thought.
• “Please get in, Miss Cornell.”
• The voice of the man in the backseat had an urging and commanding tone. Diane looked at the man’s cold face, but the feeling of uneasiness surged within her for some reason.
• “I do not know your master. I still have things to do, so I’ll be taking my leave.”
• She didn’t dare to stay here any longer—she wanted to escape this dangerous atmosphere.