Trapped By My Husband's Dangerous Brother

"Doctor, I stepped into someone else's marriage and had a baby with a married man behind my boyfriend's back. Am I being highly immoral?"

Eleanora Reed, a top-tier psychologist, frowned at the glaring words on her screen. It was her shift for online consultations, and this was the very first message from her newest anonymous client.

A mistress. Infidelity. An illegitimate secret child.

The sheer audacity and moral bankruptcy were suffocating. No wonder this woman only dared to seek counsel hiding behind a screen.

Forcing herself to maintain professional detachment, Eleanora typed back: "Could you elaborate on your situation?"

"Our families are close. We were childhood sweethearts, a match made in heaven," the client replied instantly, her words dripping with a sickening sense of entitlement. "But right before we were supposed to get engaged, he was bewitched by another woman. To please her, he forced me into exile in Europe."

Eleanora sighed inwardly.

The classic trope of a childhood sweetheart losing to a sudden newcomer. Watching the prize get snatched right from her hands must be a hard pill to swallow for anyone. No wonder her psyche had become so twisted.

She typed back: "Please continue. I am listening."

"I'm not a cheap woman. To force myself to move on, I found a new boyfriend," the messages kept popping up. "But on the very day I went public with my new relationship, he flew halfway across the world behind his wife's back and came begging for me. He told me his wife doesn't understand him at all, that their marriage is just an empty shell."

"I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't resist him. Soon, I was pregnant, and I secretly gave birth to his son behind my boyfriend's back."

"Back then, I begged him to leave her and give me a proper status, but he refused. Now, there's no way I'm dumping my boyfriend just for him."

"Doctor, do you know what the craziest part is? When I was wheeled into the delivery room, his wife was also heavily pregnant and about to give birth. Yet, he didn't hesitate to cancel a multi-million-dollar overseas merger just to fly over and hold my hand while I delivered our baby."

"He even told me that the baby his wife is carrying is just an accident, a burdensome responsibility, but our son is his true love!"

Reading this, Eleanora felt a wave of pure nausea churn in her stomach.

Playing the victim while actively being a homewrecker? What kind of twisted, disgusting logic was this?

Instinctively, Eleanora gently rubbed her own swollen, eight-month pregnant belly. Compared to that poor, oblivious wife in the story, Eleanora felt like the luckiest woman on earth.

Her husband, Edward, also had a childhood sweetheart-Krystal Powell. After Eleanora and Edward got together, Krystal had tried every dirty trick in the book to sabotage their relationship. Eventually, she crossed Edward's bottom line. Without a shred of hesitation, Edward ruthlessly exiled Krystal to Europe and cut off all contact.

And ironically enough, Edward had also recently canceled a crucial multi-million-dollar overseas merger. But unlike the cheating scum in the client's story, Edward did it purely so he could be on standby for Eleanora's upcoming delivery.

Now, approaching her due date, Eleanora was spoiled like a queen.

Even though pregnancy had swollen her body and faded her usual glamour, Edward's obsession with her only deepened. This ruthless CEO, who struck fear into the hearts of everyone in the boardroom, would get out of bed at 3 AM just to personally buy her midnight cravings the moment she asked.

All her friends were green with envy, calling her the most pampered wife in the world.

A sharp 'ding' from the chat mercilessly shattered Eleanora's peaceful reverie.

"He is a man of immense power and wealth, yet he is willing to personally change our son's dirty diapers. The moment our boy was born, he dropped ten million dollars to set up a trust fund for him."

"This time, my son and I flew back to the States. He personally picked us up at the airport and bought us a massive mansion in Beverly Hills. He hired an entire team of maids and a private butler, treating us like royalty. He said he was terrified of me suffering even the slightest grievance."

Being a homewrecker and actually flaunting it with such proud arrogance? This person's mind was completely warped. Just as Eleanora was pondering how to professionally guide her out of this toxic delusion, another message popped up.

"Doctor, what if the one cheating was your husband... what if he had a son with his first love while you were pregnant... would you divorce him?"

The sheer disrespect and oddly specific provocation made Eleanora's blood boil instantly.

Eleanora's eyes turned completely icy. With a sense of condescending clarity, her fingers flew across the keyboard, delivering her unyielding verdict:

"A relationship is built on absolute loyalty. A one-sided betrayal is a rotting ulcer that destroys everything. I would never waste another second of my life on a hypocrite. I would divorce him immediately, take everything he owes me, and watch them rot together."

"Doctor, I just hope when the time comes, his wife is as sensible as you are."

Leaving this inexplicable, highly provocative remark, the anonymous client went offline.

Eleanora stared at the screen, a strong wave of nausea washing over her. If she weren't bound by patient confidentiality, she would have exposed this shameless homewrecker right then and there to warn that poor, oblivious wife.

Before she could calm her emotions, her phone rang.

She answered it. "Ellie, are you okay? Did you see the news?" Chloe's anxious voice came through the speaker. She was Eleanora's best friend from medical school and now a top media correspondent.

Eleanora frowned. "What news?"

Chloe's tone grew heavy. "Krystal Powell. She flew back from Europe... and she's holding a baby!"

Eleanora's heart skipped a beat, her eyes instinctively darting to the grayed-out avatar on her computer screen.

But she quickly shook her head, dismissing the absurd thought.

"So she's back. What does that have to do with me?" Eleanora replied calmly.

"Are you crazy? Have you forgotten what she did back then?" Chloe said frantically.

Of course Eleanora hadn't forgotten. Three years ago, to ruin her engagement to Edward, Krystal had actually drugged Eleanora's drink, trying to have her assaulted by other men.

Fortunately, Edward found out in time. In a fit of absolute fury, he pinned Krystal against the wall, his hands wrapped tightly around her throat.

That was the first time Eleanora had ever seen Edward lose control like that. His eyes were bloodshot, veins bulging on his forehead and neck, his entire body exuding a terrifying, murderous aura. If Edward's mother hadn't rushed in to pull him away, he truly might have strangled Krystal to death on the spot.

After that, Edward forcibly exiled Krystal to Europe. He even paid an astronomical penalty fee just to unilaterally sever all business ties with the Powell family. The incident sent shockwaves through high society.

To this day, a saying still circulated among the elite: You can mess with anyone, but never mess with the CEO's wife, because no one can survive Edward's wrath.

"She even has a child now, Chloe. That means she's started a new life," Eleanora chuckled softly. "Besides, Edward protects me so well; he'd never let that woman come anywhere near us."

"That's true. Edward is an absolute wife-doting maniac..." Chloe muttered, then suddenly hung up, likely rushing to chase the breaking news.

That afternoon, Eleanora got off work on time. As she walked to the hospital entrance, she immediately spotted Edward standing by his car, talking on the phone.

The man was dressed in a bespoke silver-white suit, his tall, lean figure and sharp jawline looking like a masterpiece in the setting sun.

Eleanora couldn't help but recall a winter night three years ago.

It was a freezing night with a raging blizzard. She was huddled in her medical school dorm, texting Edward, casually mentioning she was craving piping hot, crispy fried chicken from the south side of the city.

Edward had simply replied: Wait a moment.

She thought he was busy, but half an hour later, he called and told her to come downstairs.

She ran down to find Edward covered in snow. With a doting smile, he pulled a tightly wrapped, still-steaming fried chicken from inside his coat. "The fried chicken you wanted."

When she took it, it was still burning hot. Heartbroken, she lifted his coat, only to see his pale chest burned bright red from the heat.

At that moment, with red eyes, she called him an idiot-but in her heart, she firmly resolved to marry this man.

"What are you thinking about, spacing out like that?"

The familiar, gentle voice pulled her back. Eleanora snapped out of her daze, realizing Edward had already walked up to her.

She shook her head with a smile. "Nothing. Why did you come to pick me up today? Where's Ron Hicks?"

"I booked a table at your favorite French restaurant. Taking you out for a good meal today."

Chatting and laughing, the two walked to the car. Edward considerately opened the passenger door for her.

Just as Eleanora was about to get in, a faint, cloying scent of gardenia perfume drifted into her nose.

This scent...

She felt like she had smelled it somewhere before, but couldn't quite place it at the moment.

Eleanora turned to look at the man helping her into the car. "Why is there women's perfume in your car?"

A fleeting flash of panic crossed Edward's eyes, but he masked it flawlessly in an instant. "I had a meeting with a female client today. Her car was sent for maintenance, so I gave her a ride back to her office after we signed the contract."

Without much suspicion, Eleanora nodded and got in.

However, just as they finished ordering at the restaurant, Edward's phone, resting on the table, suddenly lit up.

Edward glanced at the screen and immediately snatched it up, placing it face-down on the table.

This reflexive, secretive gesture made Eleanora's heart sink.

As if to cover it up, Edward quickly changed the subject. "By the way, I've hired a designer for the baby's room. They can start next week. Do you have a style you like?"

They discussed the details of the nursery, and the atmosphere seemed to warm up again. But Eleanora's peripheral vision remained coldly fixed on that overturned phone.

Suddenly, the phone vibrated violently again. Edward reached for it, and in the fraction of a second as he flipped it over, the screen illuminated, and two letters pierced clearly into Eleanora's line of sight.

K. P.

Eleanora's pupils contracted sharply. K. P.? Krystal Powell?

Edward snatched the phone as if it had burned him, his face finally showing a flicker of undisguised panic as he silenced the call. "A difficult partner. Don't worry about it."

He was lying. As a top-tier psychologist, Eleanora saw right through his facade. When he shoved the phone into his pocket, his fingertips were trembling slightly.

The romantic atmosphere of the restaurant evaporated. Eleanora didn't say a word; she simply took a sip of her lemon water, her eyes remarkably calm.

The phone vibrated again in his pocket.

Edward could no longer maintain his composure. His face was a mix of annoyance and apology. "I'm sorry, Ellie. I have to take this. It might be an urgent company matter."

He stood up and walked briskly to the restaurant's outdoor terrace, his retreating back looking almost frantic.

Eleanora sat alone at the table, elegantly slicing the steak on her plate, but her heart was growing colder by the second. She wasn't a fool. All the abnormal signs were ringing alarm bells in her mind.

Through the glass, she could clearly see Edward pacing back and forth on the terrace, gesturing animatedly as he spoke on the phone, his expression extremely anxious.

About five minutes later, he returned, his face filled with undisguised apology.

"Honey, I'm so sorry. An absolute emergency came up at the company. I have to go deal with it right now," he said, grabbing his coat.

"Right now?" Eleanora looked up, testing the waters with a sharp gaze. "Do you need me to go with you?"

Edward's eyes shifted, and he immediately refused, "No, it's too chaotic there. I'll have the driver take you home. Love you."

He leaned down and pressed a hurried kiss to her forehead. The moment he leaned close, Eleanora smelled it again-that cloying, sickening scent of gardenia.

Throwing those words behind him, Edward strode away without looking back.

Eleanora sat stiffly in her seat. The call from K. P., the gardenia perfume, the supposed "urgent matter," and the homewrecker showing off online today... All the clues frantically connected in her mind, piecing together a chilling truth.

Just then, her phone rang. It was Chloe.

Eleanora took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice steady. "Chloe?"

"Ellie! Where are you?" Chloe's voice was unusually rushed, even laced with a sob. "I just got into a car accident... at the intersection near the City Hospital! A Porsche ran a red light and smashed into my car!"

Eleanora stood up abruptly, her face pale. "Chloe! Are you hurt? I'm coming right now!"

"I'm fine, just a few scratches... But Ellie, listen to me!" Chloe cried out, breaking down over the phone. "The people in that Porsche... it was Krystal and her baby!"

Eleanora's body went rigid, blood rushing to her eardrums.