Make Me Pregnant For A Mistress, My Husband Is Crazed With Regret

Chapter 3

"Be good, I'll come get you tomorrow."

Without giving me a chance to refuse, War stood and walked away.

The next day, he took me to Claire's birthday party anyway.

The banquet was held at a hotel, not extravagant but well attended.

All of War's friends were there. When they saw me, their eyes immediately dropped to my stomach, their smiles carrying hidden meanings.

I clenched my fists until my nails bit into my palms, barely keeping my composure.

Some of Claire's friends were also there, looking at me with open disgust.

"How dare she show up? A woman this evil belongs in hell."

"What terrible luck. Call security to throw her out."

Claire tugged their sleeves, signaling them to stop.

She then approached us timidly, her voice meek.

"Mr. Field, Mrs. Field, thank you for coming to my birthday."

"And thank you for arranging this banquet."

I turned to War beside me—so he'd organized this for her.

My heart drowned in ice, the cold so sharp it ached.

Forcing a stiff smile, I handed her my gift.

"Happy birthday."

Claire accepted it with the skittishness of a startled deer.

"Thank you, Mrs. Field. Thank you, Mr. Field."

Soon, the banquet began, and a screen displayed birthday messages for Claire.

Including one from War.

His gaze locked onto the camera, his eyes softer than I'd ever seen.

"Happy birthday, Claire," he said.

The next moment, the screen showed private photos of Claire's humiliation.

Her face drained of all color. She staggered back, then collapsed in a faint.

War's expression darkened. He immediately swept her into his arms and rushed her to the hospital.

I stood frozen—only to be slapped hard across the face the next second, knocking me to the floor.

"You vile b***h! How could you hurt Claire like this?"

My forehead hit something sharp. Blood trickled down, blurring my vision red.

Through the pain, I managed a weak protest.

"It wasn't me..."

But no one listened. My cheek throbbed, swollen and numb.

"Strip her! Make her feel the same shame!"

Terrified, I turned to War, pleading for help, only to see his retreating figure walking away without a backward glance.

My heart shattered completely.

Tears mixed with blood streaked my face as I struggled desperately.

"No, stop… please!"

Someone in the crowd spoke up.

"A warning is enough—she is still Mr. Field's wife, after all."

At that, the others released their grip on my clothes.

"She doesn't deserve to walk away unscathed."

"She ruined a perfectly good party. Force her to lick every last scrap off the floor."

They shoved me to the ground, holding me down, while others held up their phones to record.

My face was smeared in oily, congealed sauce, the iron tang of blood seeping into the slop as I was forced to swallow.

"Hah! Look at her groveling—what a disgusting mutt."

With that, someone kicked me hard.

Agony twisted me into a fetal ball, darkness pulsing at the edges of my sight.

Before long, I blacked out, swallowed by oblivion.

I went to a hospital bed, my wounds bandaged.

My hands flew to my belly in panic, and a nearby nurse quickly reassured me.

"The baby's safe. Everything's alright."