The Betrayed Wife and Her Rise

City Ashford.

Eight o'clock in the evening.

Lightning flashed across the night sky as heavy rain poured down.

Leonora Sedgwick curled up on the cold ground, the blood beneath her body continuously washed away by the rain.

Her fingers, turned pale by the wet cold, tapped on her phone screen, searching through her contacts and dialing the numbers one by one.

An automated female voice echoed over and over through the downpour:

"Sorry, the number you have dialed is currently unavailable."

Eventually, the screen light faded into the heavy rain, refusing to turn on no matter how desperately she pressed the button.

...

Nine o'clock.

City Ashford General Hospital.

The urgent footsteps of a doctor broke the silence of the corridor.

"The patient has suffered a miscarriage. Have you notified her family yet?"

"I did, but..." The nurse hesitated.

"But what?" The doctor asked impatiently.

"Her family said they were celebrating a birthday and didn't have time..."

...

11:30 PM.

Leonora stared blankly at the pale fluorescent light above and the clear liquid dripping steadily into her IV line.

She heard the ward door swing open, followed by a weary voice.

"Leonora."

An hour ago, after being moved out of the operating room, she had borrowed a phone under the nurse's sympathetic gaze to send a message to Easton Frye, asking him to come pay her medical bill whenever he was free.

And now, her husband had finally arrived.

Easton was wearing a white shirt, his sharp features etched with a subtle hint of fatigue.

She turned her head away, tears quietly welling up in the corners of her eyes.

"Are you feeling unwell?" Easton sat on the edge of the bed, his expression as cold as ever.

He had rushed over right after seeing the message, completely unaware of the tragedy that had just shattered her world.

Leonora felt a sudden, agonizing ache in her chest. Had she not witnessed with her own eyes how gentle he could be with someone else, had she not nearly died out in that stormy night, she might have believed he was simply born incapable of warmth.

As he leaned closer, the smell of alcohol on him made her stomach turn with nausea.

"My phone is broken. Please pay the bill for me," Leonora said, her voice raspy and drained of energy.

As for everything else, she would deal with it after the physical pain subsided.

Easton caught the faint trace of barely suppressed aversion in his wife's tone.

Frowning slightly, he explained, "Today was Susannah's birthday, as you know."

Leonora stared at the ceiling. Yes, she knew. She knew it was Susannah Sedgwick's birthday, and she knew they were throwing her an exceptionally lavish party.

Her husband and her own family had spent the entire night by Susannah's side.

So much so that when she was screaming in agony, not a single one of them picked up the phone.

"Yes, I know," Leonora replied softly, her tone eerily calm.

Easton, however, grew irritated by her reaction. "Susannah invited you to her party, but you refused to show up. What are you making a scene for now?"

A scene?

His accusatory words pierced straight into Leonora's heart like a blade, leaving her bleeding inside.

He knew nothing.

He had no idea she had been kidnapped, nor did he know their child was gone.

The bitterness in her chest boiled over.

"Easton, are you saying I checked myself into the hospital just to make a scene?"

A suffocating silence fell between them. Easton's eyes remained dark and unreadable, but Leonora easily caught the unspoken affirmation in his gaze.

Her heart went completely hollow. A bitter, self-deprecating smile touched her lips.

Three years of marriage, and this was all she meant to him.

Perhaps sensing that staying would only lead to another argument, Easton stood up. "I'll handle the bill. Get some rest. Dr. Kyler is on his way."

Dr. Kyler was her obstetrician, the one who had been managing her care ever since she found out she was pregnant.

"Easton, do you even know..." Leonora began, suddenly wanting to tell him about the child.

"Sister." A sweet voice interrupted her as the door swung open again.

Susannah Sedgwick stepped into the room, wearing an elegant pink gown with her long dark hair styled neatly, topped with a dazzling diamond tiara. She looked delicate, graceful, and radiant.

"Sister, are you alright?" she asked, rushing to the bedside.

Leonora choked back the words on the tip of her tongue. Seeing Susannah now only brought back memories of the endless unanswered calls and the terrifying sensation of her life slipping away in the freezing rain.

A wave of uncontrollable hatred surged from deep within her bones.

"Not dead yet," Leonora said coldly.

Susannah's eyes instantly welled up with tears of guilt. "I'm so sorry... I shouldn't have kept Easton at the party with me."

Leonora closed her eyes, exhausted in both body and soul.

"Susannah, this has nothing to do with you," Easton interjected, his brows furrowed in visible displeasure at Leonora's harsh tone.

To him, Leonora was simply being unreasonable.

She had never gotten along with the rest of the Sedgwick family, and she had been hostile toward Susannah ever since her return from abroad. In fact, they had argued several times over the past month alone.

Susannah continued timidly, "Sister, your baby comes first. Please don't be upset. I promise I'll stay away from Easton from now on."

"So you knew I was pregnant," Leonora said, a mocking smile on her pale face.

In the month since Susannah returned, she had managed to call Easton away every chance she got.

Susannah looked up, her wide eyes brimming with tears, her lower lip trembling with aggrieved innocence.

"Susannah, wait outside for a moment. Let me talk to her," Easton comforted her softly, coaxing her toward the door.

Susannah bit her lip, whispering, "Please don't fight with her, Easton. She's still pregnant."

She walked out reluctantly, glancing back at every step.

Leonora looked up at her husband, her eyes cold and distant.

Here she was, lying in a hospital bed, while her husband looked down at her with cold contempt, assuming she was using petty tricks to ruin Susannah's birthday-and in the end, it took another woman to convince him not to lose his temper.

The gentleness in Easton's voice instantly vanished as he turned back to Leonora. "Leonora, leave Susannah out of this. She hasn't done anything to hurt you."

His defensive tone sent another wave of crushing pain through her chest.

They had been married for three years. What started as a marriage of convenience had gradually grown into something real for her-she had poured her heart into this relationship.

She had foolishly believed Easton felt the same way.

It wasn't until Susannah came back that she realized he had never developed a single thread of affection for her over those three years.

All of his tenderness had been reserved for Susannah all along.

For three years, she had naively hoped that patience and devotion would eventually win his heart. But reality proved that some hearts were simply impossible to warm.

"Easton, let's get a divorce," Leonora said, staring blankly at the IV bag. Her words were soft and barely audible, yet heavy with unshakeable resolve.

She had actually contemplated divorce ever since Susannah returned, but she had been too weak to let go, clinging to empty illusions.

Easton's stern expression softened slightly, though his tone remained patronizing. "I know pregnancy makes women emotional and overthink things. But Leonora, Susannah is your sister, and there's nothing inappropriate between us."

Leonora turned her face away, tears sliding quietly down her cheeks as her hand rested gently on her empty lower abdomen.

"There is no baby anymore," she whispered.

"Easton, the child is gone."

Easton didn't catch Leonora's quiet, pain-stricken murmur. Lowering his head, he gently pulled the blanket over his wife. "Get some rest. I'll check on you later."

He had no intention of arguing with her while she was in such an unpredictable mood.

"Leonora, you're picking on Susannah again." The harsh demand echoed as the ward door slammed heavily against the wall with a jarring bang.

A tall man strode into the room, his face bearing an eighty-percent resemblance to Leonora's, brimming with fury. When his eyes landed on her deathly pale face, he hesitated for a brief second before his tone grew even more aggressive.

"You knew today was Susannah's birthday, yet you had to stir up trouble this late at night? Who are you trying to spite?" Bryce Sedgwick glared at Leonora lying on the hospital bed, his anger flaring. "Is making the entire family miserable the only thing that brings you joy?"

He was convinced Leonora was merely feigning illness to ruin Susannah's celebration.

Leonora clenched her fists. She lay helpless on the mattress, her entire body wracked with excruciating pain, yet her own brother could only cross-examine her on why she was sick and why she had come to the hospital.

A suffocating wave of sorrow washed over her.

"Can a person pick and choose the exact day they fall ill?" she shot back coldly, her raspy voice laced with sharp irony.

Bryce's eyes flared with disgust and impatience. "Fine, I won't argue about your illness. Answer me this: Susannah came here purely out of goodwill. Why did you make her cry?"

Just outside in the hallway, he had clearly seen Susannah wiping away tears.

There was no doubt in his mind-Leonora must have bullied her.

She had always been like this, armed with a venomous tongue, acting as if the entire world owed her something.

Leonora looked past Bryce's shoulder and saw Susannah standing there with crimson eyes, weeping softly with an air of delicate vulnerability.

"Bryce, please... it has nothing to do with her. I just... I just got something in my eye."

Such an explanation only added fuel to the fire.

Sure enough, Bryce's brow furrowed tightly. "Leonora, drop those petty, malicious schemes of yours. Let me make one thing clear: the Sedgwick family owes you nothing, and Susannah owes you even less."

"Bryce, stop it. She's still pregnant," Susannah pleaded, tugging gently at his arm. "Besides, it's my fault. I knew she was expecting, but I still insisted on keeping Easton with me to celebrate my birthday. That's why she ended up in the hospital..."

As she spoke, tears as large as raindrops began streaming down her cheeks once more.

Leonora dug her fingernails into her palms, forcing herself to swallow the rage boiling in her chest.

She didn't want to engage in this futile argument-after all, she would be the only one left suffering in the end.

Yet Bryce had no intention of letting it go. "Plenty of women get pregnant every day. What makes her so special?"

"That's enough," Easton interrupted, frowning. While he agreed that Leonora was being unreasonable, Bryce was clearly crossing a line.

Bryce, however, was far too consumed by resentment to stop. Sneering coldly, he spat out, "Pretending to be sick now... who knows if she'll use the baby as a pawn for something else later?"

"With such a spiteful and neurotic mother, the child in her belly is doomed to suffer anyway."

If Easton's cold skepticism had been a blade piercing her heart, Bryce's cruel words were a barrage of arrows tearing her to pieces.

Leonora trembled violently with rage. Grabbing her pillow, she hurled it at Bryce with all the strength left in her, screaming at the top of her lungs, "Get out. Get the hell out of here."

Tears spilled continuously from her despairing, pain-filled eyes.

She had long given up on expecting Bryce to be a decent brother, but even so, he had no right to say something so atrocious.

Bryce brushed the pillow aside, his temper flaring out of control. "Did I say something wrong? The baby isn't even born yet, and you're already using it to stage a fake illness. Aren't you afraid the child might actually die in your womb?"

Those words were downright malicious.

"I said enough." Easton snapped, fixing Bryce with a dark, warning glare.

Though he too was exasperated by Leonora's outburst, he could not tolerate anyone speaking about his wife and unborn child in such a vile manner.

"I told you all to get out." Leonora's eyes were bloodshot. Scrambling up from the mattress, she grabbed whatever was within arm's reach and threw it at Bryce as if he were her mortal enemy.

Easton quickly seized her wrist and pulled her back toward his side. His deep frown betrayed his growing displeasure. "Leonora, haven't you made enough of a scene?"

Leonora suddenly went dead silent. Tears trickled down her pale, ghostly cheeks, while her bloodshot eyes burned with a terrifying, venomous hatred.

"You get out too."

Her pale lips parted slightly, spelling out the words with absolute coldness and disdain.

"Leonora." Easton's patience snapped, his voice dropping to a heavy, threatening register.

"Leonora, please don't get so worked up. Think about the baby." Susannah rushed forward, reaching out as if to support her, her delicate eyes brimming with deep concern.

"Don't touch me." Leonora violently yanked her wrist free from Easton's grip and lashed out to keep Susannah away. The sudden movement was so chaotic that her hand struck the back of Susannah's hand.

Susannah clutched her hand, letting out a sharp cry of pain. "Ah."

"Leonora Sedgwick." Bryce roared, stepping forward as if he wanted to tear her apart alive. "Susannah was only trying to care for you, and you physically attacked her."

"Apologize to her right now."

A searing, excruciating pain surged from deep within her lower abdomen. Leonora trembled uncontrollably, fine beads of cold sweat breaking out across her forehead.

She bit her lip until it almost bled to suppress the agonizing scream rising in her throat.

"It's not her fault... I was just careless," Susannah stammered through her tears, her voice shaking pitifully.

"Easton, are you just going to stand there and watch?" Seeing that Leonora remained motionless, Bryce turned his furious gaze directly upon Easton.

Leonora raised her head to look at Easton as well. Even though she knew all too well what kind of man her husband was, in this haze of unbearable agony, a faint, foolish glimmer of hope still flickered within her.

If Easton cared even a little bit, if he paid any actual attention to her, he would surely realize that something was terribly wrong.

"Leonora, Susannah came here with good intentions. You're taking this too far," Easton said, lowering his eyes, his tone laced with absolute detachment.

Leonora forced herself to stand upright. Her long hair cascaded messily over her shoulders, framing a face that was unnaturally drained of color.

Her dark, hollow eyes locked onto Easton, her voice chillingly quiet: "Easton... didn't you hear? He just cursed your child to death."

She had been lying on that hospital bed, her face paper-white and frail, yet Easton assumed she was merely faking an illness. Bryce had cursed their child to die, yet Easton remained indifferent. She had done nothing more than push Susannah away, accidentally brushing against her hand, and he accused her of going too far.

Such blatant, unapologetic favoritism.

A profound sense of pity for herself rushed through Leonora.

She possessed neither the love of her husband nor the affection of her family.

All she ever received was endless suspicion and cruel humiliation.

She truly had no idea how utterly worthless her position as his wife was in Easton's heart.

"Bryce didn't mean it like that," Susannah spoke up, offering an apology on Bryce's behalf. "He only said those things because he was worried about me. Leonora, I apologize to you on his behalf."

Bryce cast a grateful look at Susannah, his affection for his younger sister deepening. Naturally, his resentment toward Leonora grew all the more intense.

"Everyone, leave," Easton commanded slowly, his brow furrowed as he stared at Leonora. "Continuing this commotion will only harm the baby."

Leonora gritted her teeth, but the sharp, tearing agony in her lower abdomen suddenly intensified. Her vision flickered and turned completely pitch black. Unable to hold herself up any longer, she collapsed heavily onto the floor.

"Pretending again," Bryce sneered contemptuously, looking down at Leonora as she lay helpless on the floor. "Leonora, you're faking a faint because you feel guilty, aren't you? Don't forget we're in a hospital. The doctor will expose you the second he examines you."

Easton scooped Leonora up in his arms. She felt disturbingly light, as if she had no weight to her at all.

An uneasy feeling stirred in his chest. He had rarely seen her recently and hadn't realized she had lost so much weight.

"I'll go get a doctor," Bryce said, determined to strip away her act as he strode toward the door.

At that moment, a nurse pushed the door open.

Knowing that Leonora had suffered a miscarriage and had no family by her side, the nurse had come to check on her dressing. Seeing that the IV bottle had just run dry and taking in the scene-Leonora unconscious and blood dripping from the back of her hand-the nurse's expression instantly changed. She immediately pressed the emergency call button.

"Doctor. The patient in room 29 is unconscious and needs immediate emergency care."

Urgent, heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway. A doctor and several nurses rushed into the room.

After a rapid assessment, the medical team hurriedly wheeled Leonora straight to the emergency room.

Standing outside the closed doors, Easton felt his heart skip a beat before hammering unnaturally against his ribs.

Bryce's nonchalant voice sounded beside him: "Nurse, she's just faking it. There's no need to make such a big scene."

The nurse turned, her eyes snapping with anger. "Do you think you know better than the medical team whether a patient is unconscious or not?"

Recalling Leonora's deathly pale face, Easton demanded, "What happened to her?"

"A miscarriage." The nurse dropped the words sharply and hurried into the treatment room.

A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the corridor.

Susannah murmured in disbelief, "How could... how could my sister have a miscarriage?"

Easton stood frozen in place, recalling Leonora's desperate, violent reaction right after Bryce had spoken those vile words.

What on earth had happened to her?

Reaching for his phone, he dispatched a crisp message to Assistant Vaughn, instructing him to investigate every detail of what had transpired that night.

Bryce muttered under his breath, "How could she miscarry just like that? She didn't do it on purpose, did she?"

Easton's head snapped up, his gaze locking onto Bryce with a lethal chill.

Bryce froze under the intense pressure and tried to stammer out an explanation: "I... I just thought something seemed off..."

Susannah tugged gently at Bryce's arm, whispering nervously, "Bryce, please stop talking."

Easton's countenance was stern, his tall figure emanating an oppressive aura. "She is my wife. If you continue to speak without restraint, don't blame me for taking action."

Bryce pursed his lips, not daring to utter another word.

Nearly an hour later, the doctor stabilized Leonora's condition and wheeled her out of the emergency room.

The nurse called out, "Who is the patient's family?"

Easton stepped forward. "I am her husband."

The nurse cast a disdainful look at him. "The patient has just suffered a miscarriage and needs absolute quiet to rest. It is best not to crowd the ward."

...

When Leonora woke up again, she was lying in a luxury suite at the private hospital owned by the Frye Group.

She knew without asking that this was Easton's arrangement.

"Does it still hurt?" Easton asked in a low voice, devoid of the cold detachment he had shown the night before.

Leonora looked up at him, but her heart remained completely numb. She turned her head slightly to face the window, trying to suppress the emotional turmoil rising within her.

Easton's voice resonated with deep guilt. "Leonora, I'm sorry about last night. If I had known what you were going through, I..."

He would have sent someone to fetch her.

"Easton, the three-year term is almost up," Leonora said softly, her face still turned toward the window, her expression entirely unreadable.

Easton stared at her, his dark shirt casting a gloomy shadow over his features.

Leonora slowly turned to look at him and said calmly, "Our agreement still has three months left, and the mandatory divorce cooling-off period takes one month."

When they married, both had been reluctant, leading them to draft a three-year prenuptial agreement: if no genuine feelings developed between them after three years, they would quietly divorce.

Bringing up the three-year mark now was her explicit demand for a divorce.

"We will have other children in the future. You need to be strong," Easton said, pursing his lips and lowering his head slightly. He too felt the grief of losing a child, but to him, it was ultimately an unfortunate accident.

"I will have children in the future, but you will definitely not be their father," Leonora stated, blurting out her innermost thought without hesitation.

"Easton, Susannah is back. If you want to marry her... I am more than happy to step aside."

"There is nothing inappropriate between Susannah and me," Easton replied, the subtle softness on his face flattening into composure once again.

Leonora had no desire to debate the issue.

Even if Easton and Susannah hadn't crossed physical boundaries, she could no longer stomach watching her husband constantly cater to another woman.

Even after losing their child, he remained remarkably composed.

Perhaps if a man didn't carry a child within his own body, he could never feel that profound bond of blood-and consequently, could never comprehend the agonizing pain of having that life torn away.

That was why men could so casually utter cruel phrases like "we will have other children in the future."

"I didn't say you crossed the line," Leonora said weakly. "It's simply that Susannah is the woman you love. Now that she's back, you can finally be together."

She had thought it through completely. If her husband wanted to cherish another woman as his wife, she was willing to grant him his freedom.

"I told you, Susannah and I are completely innocent," Easton said, a flash of irritation passing through his dark eyes. He paused before adding, "I know you're heartbroken over losing the baby so suddenly, but that has nothing to do with Susannah."

Leonora let out a bitter, silent laugh, her eyes gradually reddening. An unbearable tightness seized her chest.

"Easton..."

"I was a pregnant woman, you know," Leonora interrupted him, her eyes sharp with cold irony. "You were so afraid I would ruin your night that you refused to take my calls and even muted your phone."

She laid out his actions word for word. It was a calculated guess, but it struck right at the truth.

She hadn't intended to bring it up, but Easton kept insisting on Susannah's innocence over and over again, and she was thoroughly sick of hearing it.

Easton fell silent, his lips pressed into a tight line. Her guess was dead accurate. When he saw her caller ID flashing that night, he had assumed she was calling to throw a tantrum, so he had turned his phone to silent.

Deep down, a sharp pang of regret finally cut through his composure.

"What's done is done. What is the point of dwelling on it now?" Easton said, avoiding the argument. Standing up, he added, "Get some rest. I have some matters to attend to."

The ward door closed behind him, leaving the room in absolute silence.

A faint, hollow smile touched Leonora's lips as tears silently spilled from her eyes.

Shortly after, a courier delivered a brand-new phone-her previous one had been destroyed in the storm-complete with a replacement SIM card.

The moment she powered it on, notification after notification flooded the screen-messages of concern mixed with demanding inquiries. Leonora set the device aside without replying to a single one.

She slept through most of the day, feeling slightly more physically stable by the time she woke up.

At six o'clock in the evening, her phone rang. It was her close friend, Antonia Morley.

She swiped to answer. "Antonia."

Antonia's voice came through, laced with concern: "Leonora, why didn't you attend the fragrance gala tonight?"

Leonora sat up in bed, a sharp ache shooting through her body.

After a brief silence, taking in her current state, she let out a self-deprecating laugh. "Something came up. I can't make it."

There was a pause on the other end of the line.

Then Antonia spoke again, her tone dropping: "Your husband is here with Susannah right by his side. They are arm in arm, looking extremely intimate. And the dress Susannah is wearing... Never mind, I'm taking a photo and sending it to you right now."