"Congrats, you're one month pregnant, and all indicators are normal." The nurse's voice gently echoed in Natalie Hudson's mind.

With the pregnancy test report in hand, Natalie drifted back into her fancy new home. The reality of her pregnancy just felt unreal.

Summoning her courage, she texted her husband, Craig Lambert, to ask if he'd be home for dinner tonight.

The wait felt like an eternity. Knowing how much he despised being disturbed at work, she began to fret that he might, as usual, ignore her message.

To her relief, a moment later, his terse reply came through: "Yes, I need to talk to you."

With his response, Natalie rushed to buy groceries and prepared a hearty dinner. She placed the pregnancy test report on the table but then flipped it over, thinking it might seem too deliberate.

In the evening, a sleek black luxury car glided into the driveway.

Craig got out, his suit jacket casually draped over his arm. Tall and fit with sharp features, he cut an impressive figure.

"Craig, you're back!" Natalie called out as she ran to him, reaching out to take his jacket.

To her surprise, he handed her a document.

"Look it over. If you have any requests, let me know," he said.

Glancing down at the document in hand, she saw the bold words on the cover-Divorce Agreement.

Her eyes stung from the glaring white paper.

Craig tugged at his tie, fatigue etched into his brow. He glanced at his young wife with indiscernible disapproval, thinking her round face and girlish chubbiness made her look almost childlike.

He felt nothing for her, but his grandmother, Janice Lambert, adored her. Natalie's sweetness and care had improved Janice's health. In a way, their marriage was a beneficial arrangement where everyone got what they wanted.

Without that fling a month ago, Craig wouldn't have realized their marriage had lasted for three years.

"But sticking with this marriage would just waste her youth. Better to end it," he thought.

Natalie gently placed a hand on her belly, anticipation gleaming in her eyes. "Suppose we were expecting a baby. Would you still want a divorce?"

His eyes shifted to her belly, and he frowned. "No way. Didn't I tell you to take a morning-after-pill?"

That night was their only sexual encounter in three years.

His reaction stung her, and her hand jerked away from her belly as if she had touched a hot pan. Craig grabbed her wrist, his face a whirlwind of emotions. "Are you really pregnant?"

Her breath caught in her throat before she pressed, "I said suppose. Would you want it?"

"No." He sighed in relief upon hearing her reply.

He believed that a child would only suffer if the parents had an unhappy marriage. He had learned that from his parents' relationship.

Craig let go of her hand, and her heart sank.

Natalie watched as he walked away, tilting her head back to hold back her tears. His words cut her like a knife.

She glanced at the cold dishes she had carefully prepared on the table and dumped them all into the trash. The greasy smell turned her stomach.

Her hand back on her belly, she felt a little life growing inside her. So she swallowed her bitterness, whispering, "Baby, Daddy doesn't want you, but I'll protect you."

Natalie was orphaned when she was little. After her adoptive parents had twins, she was sent to her aunt's home. Fortunately, she treated Natalie well.

All this experience made her yearn for a real home. Therefore, despite knowing Craig didn't love her, she devoted herself to being a good wife, hoping to thaw his cold heart. Now, she realized what a fool she had been.

Thankfully, she was pregnant now. Even though she and Craig were about to split up, she wouldn't be lonely anymore.

With that thought, she signed the divorce agreement without looking at the contents.

That night, she slept alone in the master bedroom while Craig stayed in the study, just like every night for the past three years.

The next morning, Natalie received a call from Dora Huffman, Craig's mother. Her tone was as haughty as ever. "Natalie, have the servant prepare the guest room on the second floor. We'll have a guest staying for a few days. She's important, so treat her well."

She hung up before Natalie could ask about who it was.

Accustomed to Dora's disdain, Natalie pursed her lips slightly in defiance.

When Natalie went downstairs, Craig had already left for work.

In the afternoon, a stylish young woman in designer clothes walked in. Natalie's eyes widened in astonishment as she wondered if this was the guest Dora had mentioned.

A dismissive glint quickly replaced the surprise in Natalie's eyes. Before the divorce, this would have upset her, but now, she couldn't care less about any girls who would be moving in here.

Natalie moved closer and greeted, "Hello."

Before she could finish, the woman began walking around the hall, ignoring her. Turning to the butler, she scoffed, "Ugh, these curtains are hideous, and that sofa is even worse. And all the beds? They need to go. Replace them with the brand I like."

Natalie couldn't watch a stranger pick her marital home to pieces anymore, so she snapped, "Who are you? The villa stays the way it is."

"Let me introduce myself. I'm Tiffany Werner. I'll soon be the mistress of the house, so the decor here is up to me," she replied.

"You're Tiffany?" Natalie's voice dripped bitterness.

She mused, "No wonder Craig suddenly wanted a divorce. His first love's back-time for me, the substitute, to leave."

"I see. You've heard of me. Go sign the divorce papers. You've had your time here for three years. It's time for you to return everything that should've been mine," Tiffany said.

"Are you hearing yourself? If you were the mistress of the house, where were you when Craig was in a coma after his car accident? Why didn't you marry him then?" Natalie asked coolly.

At that time, Janice wanted to find Craig a wife to carry on the family line, but all the wealthy girls fled and hid.

Natalie, once Janice's caregiver, had always received kindness from her. Janice even lent Natalie money to pay off her debts. Not wanting to see Janice grieve, Natalie promised to marry Craig.

While everyone, including Natalie, believed Craig wouldn't survive and the marriage would remain just a formality, he came around and made a full recovery.

From then on, her position in the Lambert family became awkward. The news of the richest man in Northdale marrying a mere caregiver would be a disgrace to Craig. So, for three long years, her true identity remained a secret.

Tiffany's face hardened. "That was because my family stopped me. They even locked me up, so I missed out. Otherwise, how could Craig marry a country bumpkin like you? Listen, I'm the princess of the Werner family from Southdale. All my brothers are influential. Try stealing Craig from me, and your family won't know what hit them."

Natalie's expression turned icy. "Touch them and I'll hunt you down."

"If you want your family to be safe, then sign the divorce papers," Tiffany urged in triumph as she spotted the agreement on the coffee table.

She had been waiting for this day for three years.

Natalie calmly replied, "I've already signed them."

"Wise choice," Tiffany commented.

Then she fished out a check from her designer handbag. "Here's 500 thousand dollars, a small gift from me."

Natalie cast a disdainful glance at it and remained unmoved.

"Seriously? You want more? This money could pay you to be my caregiver for ten years. Take it and leave us alone. Craig is way out of your league. He and I are a perfect match."

Taking another hit from the insult, Natalie turned and made her way back to the master bedroom. In fact, she had decided to leave before Tiffany came.

Now that she was divorcing Craig, there was no reason for her to stay anyway.

While packing, she realized her few possessions barely filled a suitcase. The past three years felt like a dream.

Seeing the pregnancy test report on the nightstand, she knew it was time to close this chapter.

Just then, Tiffany swaggered into the room, holding the divorce papers. "Are you done packing?"

When she saw the words "OB-GYN" on the paper on the nightstand, surprise flashed in her eyes.

Noticing her gaze, Natalie snatched the report and crumpled it.

Tiffany exclaimed in shock, "Are you pregnant?"

Natalie tightened her grip on the crumpled pregnancy test report. "If I were pregnant, I wouldn't have signed the divorce papers."

"That's right. Typical gold-digger move-using a child to climb the social ladder. But let's be real; Craig wouldn't want the baby. Someone like you isn't fit to bring an heir into the Lambert family," Tiffany reminded her.

Having had enough of the insult, Natalie turned and hurried into the closet, but Tiffany followed. "Wait, let me see the paper in your hand."

Her woman's instinct caused her to make double sure. "If she's lying, I'll have to get rid of the baby," Tiffany thought wickedly.

Natalie clutched the report even tighter. "This is my privacy."

"Privacy? I think you're trying to steal something valuable from here. Let me see."

Tiffany lunged, grabbing her hand and raising her arm to strike. Instinctively, Natalie threw her over her shoulder. Tiffany crashed to the floor, clutching her foot and wailing, "My foot, it hurts so much!"

"Natalie, what are you doing?" Craig's cold, commanding voice cut through the room. Natalie's heart clenched as she turned and saw him march over.

"Craig, it's not what you think," she murmured.

He walked past her with an icy expression. As he bent down to scoop up Tiffany, his eyes fell on the divorce agreement on the floor, Natalie's signature bold on the last page.

His gaze flickered with surprise; she had signed it so readily this time.

"Craig..."

Tiffany's feeble cry snapped Craig back to the moment. He asked softly, "Are you okay?"

"Craig, my hand hurts so much. I'm afraid I've broken it. Will I still be able to play the piano?"

He gently laid Tiffany on the bed and reassured her, "Don't worry. I'll get a doctor to check it."

Then he turned to Natalie, his gaze piercing. "Apologize to Tiffy."

Tiffany, the darling of the Werner family, had three fiercely protective brothers. If her family found out this, Natalie would be in serious trouble.

Natalie's heart wrenched as she heard him say "Tiffy."

Craig had never addressed her so affectionately. Even that night, when he held her tenderly, he had whispered "Tiffy"-but it wasn't meant for her. She had been deluding herself all along.

Despondent, she thought to herself, "I've been a substitute for Tiffany from day one."

She stood there, numb with pain. "Apologize?" she asked, her voice breaking.

"You hit her first. Even a three-year-old knows better. And you know how important those hands are for a pianist, don't you?"

"Yes, everything about Tiffany is important, while I'm as insignificant as a bug to you," she thought but couldn't bring herself to say out loud.

After enduring three years of humiliation, Natalie finally reached her limit.

"Believe it or not, she hit me first," she insisted.

The butler chimed in from the doorway, "Mr. Lambert, I saw Mrs. Lambert push Ms. Werner with my own eyes."

Craig's brows knitted in anger. "You heard him. Apologize!"

"And what if I don't?"

Surprise again registered on his face. His once submissive wife was now showing her sharp edges.

He pressed his thin lips together. "Quite stubborn, aren't you? Remember what happened to your uncle in the hospital's luxury ward?"

Natalie's uncle had hit someone and faced arrest. In his rush to flee, he had a car accident and ended up in a coma in the hospital.

Craig thought she had learned from her uncle's suffering.

Natalie fought back tears, stunned that he would threaten her with her uncle. She glanced at Tiffany, lounging arrogantly on their bed, and then at the wedding photo hanging above. At that moment, she felt like a cruel joke.

Finally, she gave in, her voice a broken whisper. "Sorry, Tiffany."

Tiffany was thrilled inside but put on a kind face. "For Craig's sake, I'll forgive you."

Natalie straightened her back and looked at him. "Can I leave now?" She didn't want to stay here another second.

She picked up the divorce papers from the floor and handed them to him, her determination clear this time.

Craig glanced at the papers, his brow furrowing out of habit. He hadn't expected her to sign so quickly. In the past, she always turned to Janice for help. He even prepared arguments to convince Janice, but now they weren't needed.

A strange discomfort gnawed at him as he noticed the suitcase on the floor-she was truly ready to leave.

He looked up and asked, "Found a place to stay?"

"No," Natalie replied without thinking. Then she looked into his eyes, curious if he was actually concerned about her.

Craig quickly looked away. "Go get some ice for Tiffy. She twisted her ankle because of you. Are you just going to walk away?"

"Again, it's for Tiffany," she thought, snapping back to reality.

For a moment, Natalie had believed Craig was concerned about her. But compared to his first love, their three years of marriage meant nothing to him.

Natalie walked stiffly out of the bedroom. "Natalie, you're just pathetic. His lover's lying in your bed, and here you are, fetching her ice like a maid," she thought.

As she went downstairs, she missed a step and grabbed the nearest potted plant for support, tumbling down the stairs with it.

Just in time, someone grabbed her hand. Natalie looked up in shock to see it was Craig. He had saved her.

He yanked her back, her head colliding with his chest. She could feel his heartbeat pounding against her cheek.

Natalie tried to pull away, but Craig wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her, carrying her down the stairs. Her face pressed tightly against his chest, enveloped in his mature, manly scent.

When he set her down, her face was burning.

Although they had been married for three years, this was only their second physical contact-counting that fling last month.

Then his cold voice came from above Natalie. "Next time, try using your brain when you walk. It might save you from looking like a fool."

Natalie pressed her lips together, gradually calming down. She saw the broken pot on the stairs, soil scattered everywhere. "I'll clean it up right away."

"Let the servants do it. Don't you have anything better to do?" Craig's brow furrowed deeper. He had hired so many servants; they weren't just for show.

Natalie suddenly remembered she was supposed to get ice for Tiffany. Almost instantly, a voice in her mind sneered, "Natalie, you're just pathetic."

Then she noticed the dirt on his shirt, probably from saving her. Knowing Craig's obsession with cleanliness, she figured he would hate it.

Just as she was about to remind him, he was already on the stairs, heading back to the master bedroom.

"Is he so worried about Tiffany that he doesn't even care about the dirt on his shirt?" Natalie mused with a sigh. She soon returned with ice and pushed the door open, but Craig was nowhere to be seen.

Tiffany leaned against the headboard and smiled. "Put the ice down and leave. Do you want to stay to take care of me, or are you just here to watch us make out? We haven't seen each other in three years."

The hint was clear for Natalie to understand.

It was then that Natalie heard the sound of water from the bathroom. Craig was taking a shower.

The color drained from her face. They had just divorced, and already he couldn't wait to hump his first love.

As Natalie thought about what would soon happen on that bed, a wave of nausea overcame her. She managed to suppress it and turned to the walk-in closet to continue packing. Soon enough, she was ready to set off.

"This suitcase looks like a designer brand," Tiffany called out to the butler. "Find her a bag for her things."

Soon, the butler returned with a dirty reusable grocery bag and threw it in front of Natalie. "Use this," he ordered.

Natalie knelt down and unpacked the suitcase. Behind her, Tiffany's voice cut through the air, "Make sure to check her luggage later. Some people with sticky fingers might take things that don't belong to them."

At that moment, Natalie remembered Craig's chilling words about aborting the child. He was in the bathroom next door. If he saw the pregnancy test report, the baby would surely be lost.

With the butler and Tiffany closely watching from outside the walk-in closet, Natalie glanced at the test report hidden among her clothes and made a quick decision.

She turned her back, secretly tore the sheet into pieces, and swallowed them bit by bit. As she looked at Craig's clothes in the closet, her heart felt like it was shattering into a million pieces.

Natalie vowed that from now on, this child would have nothing to do with the Lambert family.

Dragging the bag, Natalie walked out and asked coldly, "Do you want to check it?"

Tiffany covered her nose in disgust. "Check it outside; that bag stinks."

"If Craig finishes his shower and sees her still here, it'll be a problem. I can't have her hanging around. She's trouble for me," she thought darkly.

The butler pushed Natalie. "Didn't you hear? Hurry up and get out."

Natalie walked alone to the villa entrance. The short journey felt like an eternity.

The butler snatched the bag from her hands and dumped its contents on the ground, rummaging through them.

But the pregnancy test report was already gone.

Natalie crouched down to gather her things. Just then, her phone rang.

When she answered and heard her aunt's voice, tears streamed down her face.

She had endured Tiffany's humiliation and Craig's misunderstanding without shedding a single tear, but the sound of her aunt's voice broke her resolve. Choking up, she said, "Auntie Celeste."

"Nattie, why are you crying?" Celeste Rocha asked with concern.

"I've gotten divorced, and I'm all alone again now," Natalie sobbed.

"Oh, silly girl, no. I've got great news for you. Your birth family found me. You have three older brothers in Southdale with the surname Werner, and three cousins. Six boys in total to look after you. They're all your family."

Natalie paused. "My family?"

She had always known she was an orphan, but finding her birth family had never crossed her mind. Since her parents didn't want her, she saw no reason to seek them out.

"So, Nattie, don't cry. Come home. That rich jerk doesn't deserve you. Want me to send your brothers to get you?"

Before Natalie could say anything, her phone died.

Her head was in turmoil; the news seemed too good to be true.

"Natalie, what are you up to now?" Craig asked, stepping out in a bathrobe. He had kindly let her stay for a few days, and now she was packing to leave.

While Craig waited for her reply, his eyes drifted to the scattered items on the floor-just ordinary clothes, not a single luxury item.

"Did she marry me for money? And now she's not taking anything?" he wondered.

Craig's gaze fell on the dirty bag, and he frowned and blurted, "Playing the victim again, huh? What is this for? Janice isn't here."

Over the years, he had always provided for Natalie financially, even though he didn't like her.

Also, he had given her a substantial settlement in the divorce, enough for her to live comfortably.

Now he wasn't sure if Natalie was leaving or playing her little game.

She clutched her dead phone tightly, still processing the news from Celeste about finding her family. She had once dreamt of them finding her, of no longer being alone.

To Craig, her distraction seemed like an admission of guilt.

Tiffany hobbled out, acting as if her leg were injured. "Craig, she was packing to leave just now. When she grabbed that dirty bag from the kitchen, I tried to stop her, but she wouldn't listen."

The butler chimed in, "Mr. Lambert, I tried to persuade Mrs. Lambert not to use that bag, but she refused and spilled her clothes everywhere. There are perfectly good suitcases, but she insists on playing the victim. If word gets out, people will think the Lambert family mistreated her."

Natalie stood frozen as their accusations hung in the air. An uneasy silence settled over the place.

She fixed her gaze on Craig, wondering what he would say.

His eyes were like daggers as he coldly demanded, "Well? Don't you have anything to say for yourself?"

"They've told you everything. There's nothing more to add," she said, her eyes gleaming with biting sarcasm.

Anyway, he wouldn't believe her, so why bother explaining?

"Natalie, you sound unsatisfied. What else do you want?" Craig pressed.

His view of Natalie remained the same-a woman who married him for money.

Natalie, fed up, replied, "I wanted to be a rich wife, living the good life. Look at other wives; they're either shopping or on vacation. But me? Since we got married, the only place I visited most was the kitchen, and the farthest I went was the supermarket. And after wasting three good years of my life, you're kicking me out? I've had enough!"

She felt much lighter after saying this.

"It feels so good to get this off my chest. It's rude, but life feels so much easier," Natalie thought.

"Are you done?" Craig asked, puzzled.

He had given her a bank card with a monthly allowance of 160 thousand dollars.

Each season, the butler would deliver the latest designer clothes and bags.

Craig had even had someone pay for her uncle's medical bills.

And the divorce settlement was more than generous. With all this, he considered himself a good husband.

But Natalie didn't think so.

"No, I've got years of this," she shot back.

"Go on then," Craig said.

"You have to pay me for more."

His lip curled in disdain. "Natalie, your greed will be your downfall."

Craig was disappointed that after all this, she still wanted more money.

He locked eyes with Natalie, puzzled by the contradiction before him. How could a woman so vain and deceitful have such clear, innocent eyes?

Craig never intended to marry Natalie, but once he did, he embraced her and provided for her, despite her humble origins. There was just one condition-she had to remain loyal and obedient.

But Natalie had repeatedly tried his patience, and now she dropped the act, revealing her true self.

He should have felt happy, but the sight of the signed divorce papers left him feeling powerless.

Natalie's eyes held sadness, but she masked it with indifference. She refused to leave with her dignity trampled.

Sensing the shift in mood, Tiffany dropped a bombshell. "Natalie, you were so quick to sign the divorce papers. Got someone new lined up already?"

Craig's face turned cold as he locked his gaze on Natalie, scrutinizing her intently.

His distrustful expression made Natalie fire back confidently. "Yeah, he's sweet enough to make me forget all about this."

Craig's eyes filled with anger. "You live off my money, under my roof, and keep a guy on the side?"

Natalie glanced at the clothes on the floor. "Here, take them back."

All these were cheap, plain clothes, nothing fancy. All the branded items stayed where they were in the house.

He didn't even glance at the clothes on the floor, his gaze fixed on her. "I also paid for everything you're wearing now."

"Fine, I'm giving it back too," Natalie fumed.

Craig's glare grew icy, while Tiffany's eyes lit up with excitement, as she pulled out her phone to capture the moment.

Natalie stood there, taking a deep breath.

Slowly, she unbuttoned her shirt, revealing her sculpted collarbones and plump chest.

Craig's jaw nearly hit the floor, his eyes widening in shock.

"Enough, Natalie. You're the most shameless woman I've ever met. Get out. I don't ever want to see you again," he growled, his face ashen.

With that, he strode back inside, his figure as imposing and aloof as ever.

Natalie moved her hands away, mockery flashing in her eyes. "If that makes you happy," she mumbled, her palms sweaty from bracing herself for the worst just now.

Disappointed, Tiffany stashed her phone away, raising an arrogant eyebrow. "Go strip for some rich guy who'll pay. Otherwise, it's just sad. With your poor background, you'll always be a country bumpkin. Don't kid yourself into thinking you'll ever turn into a swan."

Natalie picked up the dirty bag and sniffed. Sometimes she really envied those born lucky.

Every time someone bullied her, she fantasized about having a family to protect her.

But she knew that would only happen in fiction. Even if she found her family now, that wouldn't turn into reality.

Suddenly, the approaching helicopter's sound shattered her trance. The blades whipped up a powerful gust, sending the grass rippling like waves as it descended onto the lawn.

Several tall bodyguards in black got off the helicopter.

Hearing the noise, Craig dashed to the hall entrance. He watched as the bodyguards, radiating authority, closed in on Natalie.

One of them said respectfully, "Ms. Hudson, we're here to pick you up."