My Queen Era

To safely deliver my twins, I splurged a quarter of a billion dollars building myself a luxury maternity center. For six months, my husband was by my side, never leaving. When I suffered a massive hemorrhage during childbirth and needed emergency care, he cried so hard he nearly fainted, vowing to cherish me forever.

But the day I was discharged, he took me to his old, dilapidated pre-marriage apartment. He helped me, step by agonizing step, climb seventeen flights of stairs. His eyes were bloodshot as he tenderly wiped the cold sweat from my forehead. He said hed had the maternity center tested, and the formaldehyde and benzene levels were dangerously high. For the safety of me and the babies, we couldnt stay there for now.

Seeing how utterly concerned he seemed, I believed him.

On my first day of postpartum recovery, he brought only a bowl of plain rice porridge for me and the babies, claiming rich, meaty dishes were too greasy, and porridge was best for our stomachs right now.

It wasn't until that evening that I scrolled past a viral social media post. The background was unmistakably the top-tier suite in my maternity center. The woman in the photo was holding the premium bird's nest Id prepared in advance, beaming with happiness. The caption read: "My boyfriend said I'm weak after childbirth, so he's saving the best tonics and the most luxurious maternity center in the world for me to recover."

In the photo, the hand feeding her bird's nest wore the Patek Philippe watch I had personally given Tommy.

There were only three of those Patek Philippe watches in the world, and the initials "J.S." were engraved on the back of the dial. There was no way I could be mistaken.

I used my main account to directly "like" that post and left a comment below it.

"This watch looks familiar. Where did it come from?"

Less than three seconds after I sent the message, Seraphina Whites post was instantly deleted.

Immediately after, my bedroom door was violently kicked open. Tommy, not even wearing slippers, snatched my phone. He pointed at my nose and yelled: Scarlett Steele, are you insane?! Did giving birth drive you crazy?!

Thats my colleagues watch! He borrowed it to show off! His girlfriend is vain, so what if he borrowed my watch for a photo?!

You just sit at home all day doing nothing but being suspicious and checking up on me. Are you having a postpartum depression episode?!

His talent for turning the tables left me utterly speechless.

Borrowed a watch? Did he borrow the person too? And the top-tier suite at the maternity center is your colleagues as well?

I hadnt even finished speaking when Tommy erupted in a furious rage. He lifted my phone high and smashed it violently against the floor. The screen instantly shattered into a thousand pieces, scattering everywhere.

Im out there working myself to death every day to support this family, and you wont even let me have some peace! You need to seriously reflect on yourself!

With that, he slammed the door shut and stormed out.

In truth, he wasn't angry about me checking up on him; he was merely using it as an excuse to completely cut off my connection to the outside world.

In the middle of the night, I heard rustling clothes in the living room. Tommy whispered to the empty air: Dont rush, baby. I have to work overtime at the office. Ill be right there to be with you and our son.

The security door clicked shut softly. He had slipped away.

I lay on the hard wooden bed, my lower body aching as if being torn by knives. A high fever made me break out in cold sweats. I turned my head to look at my twin daughters, whimpering from hunger in the old cradle beside me. They were only a few days old, hadn't had a proper drop of formula, and were only drinking rice water.

I swallowed back tears of despair, gritting my teeth and forcing myself to get up. I pulled back the covers, enduring the searing pain of my episiotomy, and slowly, step by agonizing step, moved to the side of the bed. From a hidden compartment in my suitcase, I pulled out a backup phone and logged into the Steele Corporations intranet.

I entered the maternity centers business registration number. The page that popped up shocked me. Tommy had forged my signature three days ago, issuing a full power of attorney for operation! And the current actual controller was explicitly listed as Seraphina White!

Not only that, I checked the logistics tracking for the imported formula. Ten whole boxes of high-priced formula Id ordered for my twin daughters had all been intercepted, and the delivery address was the top-tier suite at the maternity center.

Just then, a "ding" sounded, and a strange text message popped up.

Scarlett, thank you for the maternity center and the formula.

Tommy said he felt bad for me giving birth to his little prince, so of course, all the good stuff should be saved for me and our precious son.

As for you, you gave birth to two money pits and still want to throw your weight around? Stay in that dump and slowly drink your rice water.

The last shred of affection I held for him vanished.

If you want to play games, lets play to the very end.

That night, I called the encrypted number of the Steele familys private lawyer.

Mr. Archer, immediately and discreetly freeze all of Tommys secondary credit cards.

Create a convincing illusion of my assets being seized. I want him to believe Im bankrupt.

Also, assign someone to monitor that forged power of attorney. When he tries to cash out, close the net.

The next morning.

My mother-in-law, carrying a greasy woven bag, moved into the dilapidated apartment under the pretense of taking care of me during postpartum recovery. She barely glanced at her granddaughters in the cradle before heading straight into the kitchen. In less than half an hour, a nauseating, foul smell permeated the entire apartment.

My mother-in-law brought a chipped porcelain bowl to my bedside and thumped it heavily on the nightstand. Floating in the bowl were several unwashed, rancid pieces of pig intestine, and a thick layer of yellow grease covered the broth.

Drink this! I specially went to the market to buy these pig intestines; theyre very nourishing and help with milk production!

The rancid stench that went straight to my head made me instantly vomit. I gagged repeatedly, reaching out to block it, and the bowl of foul soup spilled directly onto the floor.

My mother-in-law froze for a second, then immediately slumped to the ground, slapping her thighs and beginning to wail dramatically. Oh, my heavens! I dont want to live! The soup I worked so hard to make, this heartless woman just poured it all out!

Shes cursed to bring misfortune and ruin the family! How did our Steele family marry such an ill-fated woman who cant even give birth to a son?!

Just then, the security door was pushed open, and Tommy, reeking of alcohol, stumbled in. He didn't even ask what happened, immediately pointing at my nose and yelling:

Scarlett, do you have any conscience?! My mom came all this way to take care of you, and not only are you ungrateful, you dare to spill the soup she painstakingly made?!

Do you know how hard I work every day, begging and pleading for investments to keep this family afloat? Its bad enough you dont appreciate me, but you stir up trouble at home every single day!

Watching the disgusting faces of this mother and son echoing each other, I fought back the urge to slap them. Seeing me ignore him, Tommy snorted coldly, helped his mother up, and went to the kitchen to pour water.

From outside the door, I heard my mother-in-law and Tommy whispering their calculations: Those two money pits dont deserve to eat my postpartum meals? The son in Seraphinas belly is the true heir to our Steele family!

Tommy lowered his voice in agreement: Dont worry, Mom. My son will inherit the family business someday.

Their words disgusted me to the extreme.

Behind their backs, I discreetly activated my backup phone. And added a simple message: Proceed as planned.

At noon, my mother-in-law went to the market to buy groceries. Bored, I scrolled through local live streams and landed on Seraphina Whites live stream, showcasing her wealth to the entire internet. She was comfortably reclined on a large bed in the maternity center, a panoramic floor-to-ceiling window behind her. In her arms, she cradled a baby boy dressed in designer infant wear. She daintily raised her right hand, displaying a massive, million-dollar pigeons blood ruby ring on her ring finger.

Babies, this is a surprise Tommy just gave me this morning. He says as long as I and our son are happy, hell pluck the stars from the sky for me.

I narrowed my eyes, staring at the diamond ring. That was the one I had pre-ordered at the Sothebys auction six months ago. It had just been delivered to the country, and Tommy had secretly taken it, re-gifting it to Seraphina!

Just then, my mother-in-law returned from the market and leaned in beside Tommy, peering at his phone. She stared at Seraphina on the live stream, her mouth stretched into a wide grin.

Oh, that girl is truly something, giving us a robust baby boy for our Steele family!

Unlike that useless thing in there, who bore two money pits, she deserves to be stuck in that dump!

She spoke as if I weren't even there. Tommy didnt refute her; instead, he took a document and walked into the bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed, feigning a troubled expression, and sighed.

Scarlett, the companys cash flow is really tight lately, and our investors are pressuring us hard.

Could you mortgage your pre-marital penthouse apartment for me to use? As soon as we get through this difficulty, Ill buy you an even bigger place.

He handed the authorization form to me, even having a pen ready.

I looked at the mortgage contract, riddled with loopholes, and inwardly sneered. This was a reverse gamble contract I had long since had the Steele Corporations legal team specially tailor. It looked identical to his authorization form, but if he dared to use this property to cash out or mortgage it to Seraphina, it would immediately trigger a massive penalty of five hundred million dollars.

Husband, since you need it urgently, Ill sign it. You must be good to me and our daughters, okay?

I pretended not to understand anything, and in front of him, signed my name with crisp finality. Tommy saw my signature, a flash of wild joy in his eyes. He snatched the document and shoved it into his briefcase.

Dont worry, darling. I love you the most.

He turned and left, not even bothering to keep up the pretense for another second.

At dinner, Tommy, citing the need to save money, only cooked two bowls of sour plain noodles in the dilapidated apartment. One bowl for his mother, one for me. He himself only drank a glass of plain water, claiming he had an important foreign client reception at the company that night.

Meanwhile, Seraphina Whites live stream on my phone was bustling with activity. She was hosting her sons birth party at my maternity center, attended by all the renowned socialites and influencers in the city. Tommy changed into a perfectly tailored designer suit. It was one I had custom-made for him for a hundred thousand dollars from an Italian tailor, originally intended for him to wear to Tommys one-month celebration. He sprayed some men's cologne in front of the mirror and rushed out the door.

After Tommy left, my mother-in-law slyly crept into my bedroom. She opened my wallet, which was on the bedside table, and took out the last ten thousand dollars in cash. Then she found a red envelope, wrapped the money in it, and gleefully stuffed it into her pocket before also leaving. She thought I was too weak to get out of bed and didn't even consider me a factor.

Once the front door was thoroughly locked, I threw back the thin blanket. I ripped out the IV needle I had self-administered for my fever. I put on a sharply tailored black trench coat, slipped on flat shoes, and walked out the door.

As I descended the stairs, I called the captain of the Steele familys Blackwater security team.

Seal off the main entrance of the maternity center. Dont let even a fly get out.

When I arrived at the maternity centers party, the opulence was sickening. Champagne towers were stacked ten stories high, and long tables were laden with top-tier seafood flown in from overseas. I didnt immediately cause a scene. Instead, I casually took a glass of champagne, blended into the circle of socialites on the periphery, and observed with cold eyes.

In the center of the banquet hall, Tommy held Seraphinas hand, his gaze filled with adoration. Together, they cut into a ten-tier custom-made fondant cake. All the guests began to chant: Kiss! Kiss!

Seraphina coyly giggled, covering her mouth, then announced loudly into the microphone: I really want to thank my husband for taking such good care of me and our baby.

To be honest, that ex-wife is truly pathetic. She cant even afford to stay in such a good maternity center, stuck in a slum like some country bumpkin.

Tommy shamelessly cooperated with her, putting me down.

Exactly. That woman is so unrefined and difficult. She couldnt even give birth to a son. Ive been fed up with her for ages. Shes nothing like our Seraphina, who is so understanding.

The surrounding guests immediately burst into laughter. The socialites gathered around Seraphina openly mocked me, a "haggard wife" theyd never met.

Shes probably some uncultured, parvenu bumpkin whos never seen the world.

Our Seraphina is so lucky to have such a doting man like Tommy.

I watched this circus of clowns with cold disdain.

I strode out from the crowd, heading directly for the main table in the center of the hall. I had no entourage, going in alone. Having just come from that dump, my pale, drawn face and casually worn black trench coat made me look quite disheveled.

Seraphina, nestled coquettishly in Tommys arms, caught sight of me from the corner of her eye and dramatically clapped a hand over her mouth. Oh, isnt that Scarlett? What on earth are you doing running out looking like that?

Seraphina scrutinized me, her eyes lingering on my sharply tailored Italian trench coat. She then scoffed, brazenly lying. Sister, even if youre bankrupt, theres no need to wear a cheap, fifty-dollar knockoff to a luxury maternity center and make a scene, is there?

The surrounding socialites immediately let out disdainful snickers. Tommy saw me, his face darkening, and he snapped: Scarlett! Why arent you at home nursing?! What are you doing making a spectacle here?! Who let you in?!

Seraphina, however, tugged at Tommys sleeve, speaking in a sickly sweet, manipulative tone. Tommy, dont blame Scarlett. She probably cant even afford formula, so she ran here to beg us.

She deliberately raised her right hand, clearly showing off the million-dollar pigeons blood ruby ring to me. Then, she casually pointed to a waiter carrying a tray.

Pour that glass of red wine at her feet.

The waiter hesitated, but under Seraphinas threatening gaze, he complied. The dark red liquid instantly splashed my flat shoes. Seraphina looked down at me, a triumphant smile on her face. Sister, if you kneel down and wipe the wine stain off my shoe, Ill be merciful and give your two money pits some formula. How about it?

Tommy not only didnt stop her, but wrapped his arm around Seraphinas waist, looking at me with utter disgust. Everyone, please excuse us. My wife developed severe postpartum delusional disorder after giving birth. She talks nonsense all day long.

As soon as this one-month celebration is over, Im sending her straight to a mental hospital to get proper treatment!

With that, he turned and pointed to the large screen behind them, displaying photos of the baby boy, his face beaming with pride as he arrogantly declared:

This is the true heir of the Steele family! This is the real Crown Prince!

Scarlett, those two money pits you bore arent even fit to carry my sons shoes! They deserve to rot away in that dump!

The entire hall erupted in unrestrained laughter. The socialites surrounding Seraphina mercilessly insulted me.

So shes a disgraced ex-wife who couldnt even bear a son.

Reeking of poverty, yet she dares to make a scene here. What a lunatic.

Tommy waved his hand grandly, yelling at the security guards by the door: Security! What are you standing around for? Get this crazy woman out of here!

Just as the security guards were about to touch me.

I sneered, and slowly, deliberately, reached into my trench coat pocket. I slowly, elegantly pulled out the original paternity test report I had paid a hefty sum for Seraphina to have done last night.

I stared intently into Tommys eyes, speaking each word distinctly. Tommy, you publicly shame your only flesh and blood, yet you cherish another mans bastard as a treasure.

Im very curious to see how desperate youll be when you realize youve been serving another mans child like royalty every day.

I savagely slapped the paternity test report onto Tommys face. A scanned copy of the report was projected onto the large screen. The conclusion at the bottom of the report was enlarged and bolded: Tommy Steele is excluded as the biological father of the male infant!