"Hmm?"
Cristino turned, his cold, sharp eyes sweeping over her.
Clara pleaded, "I can't fight anymore. The doctor said my endometrium is severely damaged. If I fight again, I'll lose my fertility."
Cristino remained as cold as a demon of slaughter, "That's your problem."
With that, he went upstairs without looking back, leaving Clara to brood alone.
Sigh—
It was the answer she expected, but why did her heart ache so much?
J didn't like children. When they were together, he had said he didn't want any, that they would be DINKs forever.
Because she loved him, she agreed.
But people change. Hearts can never be satisfied. Once you get a little, you want a little more. Once you get a little more, you want much, much more.
Especially since he was the head of the Rothschild family, managing trillions of trillions in wealth.
If she gave birth to his child, her dream of a wealthy life would be secured.
Clara cheered herself on, tidied her expression, and went upstairs with a smile.
Cristino stood before the bathtub, undressing, preparing to shower.
Clara approached the man, taking over his actions, unbuttoning his shirt one by one. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have angered you."
Cristino half-closed his eyes, glancing at her.
Clara continued, "I'll handle the child. Give me some time, okay?"
Cristino softly grunted, "Mm."
Clara smiled, "Let me help you bathe, give you a shoulder massage, and a spa treatment."
—
In the early morning, Du Ruoxin opened her eyes, feeling sore all over, especially her shoulders, as if she had fought ghosts.
"Woof woof—"
Da Mao barked and gestured at her.
Unfortunately, she didn't understand dog language and couldn't decipher its gestures.
"Good morning, Da Mao." Du Ruoxin rubbed the dog's head, giving it a weak smile.
The Samoyed trotted to the door and opened it.
The butler's concerned voice immediately drifted in, "Madam, are you awake?"
Du Ruoxin sat up, "Ouch."
She had a stiff neck!
Her head hurt, her arms hurt, and her neck hurt terribly.
Hearing the pained cry, the butler dared not enter and could only anxiously ask, "What's wrong? What happened?"
Du Ruoxin tilted her head, afraid to move, "Where is Rong Jingyang? Has he left?"
The butler replied, "Young Master just left."
Du Ruoxin: "@#￥%*!"
The butler waited for two seconds without a response and asked again, "Madam, did you argue with Young Master last night? His expression was particularly grim."
Alas! He had finally lured the Young Master into the doghouse, and Madam didn't know how to cherish it, how to go with the flow?
Why was she so stubborn!
Du Ruoxin tidied her clothes, her neck askew, and walked out disheveled, "Rong Jingyang came to the doghouse last night?"
The butler replied, "Yes."
Du Ruoxin took a deep breath in anger—so, her body was sore because Rong Jingyang had made a move while she was asleep? Hit her?
That man!
"Ah—"
Moving in anger pulled her neck, and Du Ruoxin cried out in pain, "Where is he?!"
"He's gone." The butler, seeing that Madam had a stiff neck, quickly helped her sit on a chair. "Madam, don't move, I'll get some medicinal wine."
Soon, the butler brought back medicinal wine infused with ginseng, cordyceps, and other herbs.
He dabbed some on a towel and was about to apply it to Du Ruoxin.
But then he thought, he should take a photo first!
The butler took out his phone, took a picture, and sent it to Rong Jingyang, writing: [Young Master, Madam has a stiff neck, it's very serious. Mistress isn't here, and Madam refuses to go to the hospital. What should I do?]
Du Ruoxin saw the butler's actions and felt a surge of blood rise to her throat, "Uncle Liang, who are you sending this miserable picture of me to?"
The butler smiled awkwardly, "Madam, Mistress said she wants Young Master to feel sorry for you."
Du Ruoxin rolled her eyes speechlessly, "Then don't give me a massage. Just let me keep my neck tilted, waiting for Rong Jingyang to sympathize."
The butler thought seriously: ...That actually makes sense?
"Then should I put it away?" The butler glanced at Du Ruoxin, then took the medicinal wine, towel, and other items and turned to leave.
Du Ruoxin's heart clenched, "Uncle Liang! Do you think Rong Jingyang cares if I live or die?"
He didn't love her, so why would he come back for such a small matter?
But as soon as the words left her mouth, not far away, a high-tech wheelchair caught Du Ruoxin's eye.