Keep the Baby, Leave the Man

My manicure session was interrupted by Andrew Bergman’s 99th lover, who barged into the room. Throwing an ultrasound report in my face, that woman barked, “Are you Andrew Bergman’s wife? I’m pregnant. You should get a divorce.”

I glanced at her. Then, I flung the evidence of her scandalous private life in her face. This wasn’t my first rodeo.

Her attitude immediately shifted. Tearing up the report, she promised, “I will leave Andrew!”

Meanwhile, I was admiring my new, crimson nails, which my nail artist spent eight hours on. A minute later, I decided. “I want this removed.”

After all, I had an arduous battle waiting for me tonight. The manicure would only stand in the way.

Ever since I married Andrew, I had been busy cleaning up the mess involving his lovers. Everyone in our social circle saw me as a joke. Every time they met me, they would jokingly ask me for my secret strategy to find out about their mistresses.

In reality, I couldn’t care less about his women. I just didn’t want to fight them for his assets. Besides, every time I discovered one of his mistresses, he would agree to one of my requests—unconditionally.

This time, I asked him for a baby.

“What do you want this time?” I heard him drawling when I came home.

I looked over to the man who draped his arm on the couch, lounging and waiting for my reply.

I changed into a pair of more comfortable shoes and approached him with a serious face. “I want a baby with you.”

He scrutinized me with seriousness. Then, he patted his thigh.

Taking the hint, I sat on his lap. He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me closer. I stumbled into his embrace.

After staring at his impossibly handsome face, I offered him a kiss. When we were kissing deeply, he held me tighter while warning me coldly, “You’d better not try to baby trap me just like the other women. Even if you give me a child, I will never fall for a woman I was forced to marry!”

His actions grew more intense, violent even. I frowned in pain but held back from groaning. After what felt like forever, he left me when he received a call.

Gasping for breath in bed, I caressed my flat belly. I had never cared for the love of a well-known playboy—that was pathetic.

Due to Andrew’s poor reputation, no man in his social circle would marry off their daughters to him.

Even at 30, he still did not change his ways. Left with no choice, his parents, Richard Bergman and Jennifer Duffy, had to search for a candidate from a lower social class.

After some searching and filtering, they set their sight on a poor, young college student like me—someone who was good at their studies.

All they needed was a deferential and thoughtful woman who could be of help to Andrew.

So, I played the part of the obedient and caring future wife of Andrew Bergman, paying attention to the details and making myself small. Occasionally, I would make emotionally intelligent remarks, which helped me earn their approval.

Despite Andrew’s strong opposition, they forced him to marry me. Just like that, I became Mrs. Bergman and the brunt of jokes.

Ever since our marriage, Andrew’s behavior worsened. Sometimes, he could cheat on me with three women at the same time, and then get exposed by the paparazzi.

As his wife, I had to defend his reputation.

One time, he crossed a line and brought trouble to the Bergman Group. Richard and Jennifer gave him a good dressing down, after which he started behaving.

Around that time, I put my plans into motion, one step after another.

In the beginning, I had only asked Andrew for jewelry and bags. Slowly, I demanded expensive houses and cars, deceiving him into thinking I was yet another greedy woman.

By the time I was done making all those demands, I had graduated from college and joined Bergman Group, climbing the corporate ladder. Being Andrew’s wife helped too.

A message popped up on my screen. Andrew’s 100th lover had attempted to provoke me. From her words, I could tell she intended to drive me over the edge.

I sent a reply without thinking, turned off my phone, and walked into the bathroom.

Although I was good at acting the part of a jealous wife, the fight for Andrew’s attention was never my goal.

I wanted to stand at the apex of power. Once I was pregnant with Andrew’s child, Richard and Jennifer would no longer bear with him. They’d come to despise Andrew while nurturing their grandchild—the future heir of Bergman Group.