I Was Just A Womb To Them, Now They'll Pay - Chapter 8: Chapter 8
You are reading I Was Just A Womb To Them, Now They'll Pay, Chapter 8: Chapter 8. Read more chapters of I Was Just A Womb To Them, Now They'll Pay.
Andrew suddenly seemed to realize what was happening in the live broadcast. His voice turned sharp with accusation.
"Miranda, you conspired with the media to stream this live? Was this whole thing a trap to drag me down with you?"
Of course he'd try to pin everything on me.
I let out a cold laugh. "Your actions speak for themselves, Andrew. No exaggeration needed. Tell me—do you ever wake up at night seeing that bloody child in your hands?"
His voice turned venomous. "I'll destroy you even if it ruins me, Miranda. Remember—we're still legally bound. If I go down, you're coming with me."
"Funny you should mention that," I said smoothly. "Did you forget you signed divorce papers when we married? Your so-called 'proof of devotion'?"
There was a stunned silence. Then: "That's impossible! You've been hospitalized—you couldn't have..." I heard frantic rustling as he tore through drawers.
"Where did you hide them? You scheming bitch!" His voice cracked with rage when he couldn't find them.
Little did he know I'd already given the safe combination to a friend, who'd filed the papers with the court days ago.
"Miranda, I swear you'll pay for this! Shut down that damn livestream now!" Even now, all he cared about was saving face. Meanwhile, viewer numbers were skyrocketing.
[Damn, Miranda's a total boss! Ice in her veins.]
[Finally a heroine who doesn't fall for empty apologies!]
[Wouldn't you be coldhearted too if someone literally cut you open? That's attempted murder!]
My phone chimed with a court notification: The divorce was finalized.
Andrew was screaming now. "Enjoy your little victory! Marianne's getting the cord blood treatment—she'll recover soon! We'll be married before you know it. Hope you can live with that!"
"My heartfelt congratulations," I said sweetly.
May they rot together in hell for eternity.
Just as Andrew was about to hang up, the ward door burst open. My father stormed in, face gaunt with panic. He grabbed my hospital gown, shaking me violently.
"What did you do to the cord blood? The cultivation failed! Marianne's dead because of you!"
A strangled noise came through the phone. "Who... who died?" Andrew's voice had gone shrill.
I laughed in my father's face. "How is this my problem? You carved the blood from my womb. Now you come crying to me when your precious Marianne dies? Am I just your spare parts warehouse?"
The slap came fast—a sharp crack that left my ears ringing. "Why couldn't it have been you?" he spat. "Why did Marianne have to die?"
The room froze. Someone gasped: "She nearly bled to death yesterday! Are you trying to kill her?"
"Miranda, you conspired with the media to stream this live? Was this whole thing a trap to drag me down with you?"
Of course he'd try to pin everything on me.
I let out a cold laugh. "Your actions speak for themselves, Andrew. No exaggeration needed. Tell me—do you ever wake up at night seeing that bloody child in your hands?"
His voice turned venomous. "I'll destroy you even if it ruins me, Miranda. Remember—we're still legally bound. If I go down, you're coming with me."
"Funny you should mention that," I said smoothly. "Did you forget you signed divorce papers when we married? Your so-called 'proof of devotion'?"
There was a stunned silence. Then: "That's impossible! You've been hospitalized—you couldn't have..." I heard frantic rustling as he tore through drawers.
"Where did you hide them? You scheming bitch!" His voice cracked with rage when he couldn't find them.
Little did he know I'd already given the safe combination to a friend, who'd filed the papers with the court days ago.
"Miranda, I swear you'll pay for this! Shut down that damn livestream now!" Even now, all he cared about was saving face. Meanwhile, viewer numbers were skyrocketing.
[Damn, Miranda's a total boss! Ice in her veins.]
[Finally a heroine who doesn't fall for empty apologies!]
[Wouldn't you be coldhearted too if someone literally cut you open? That's attempted murder!]
My phone chimed with a court notification: The divorce was finalized.
Andrew was screaming now. "Enjoy your little victory! Marianne's getting the cord blood treatment—she'll recover soon! We'll be married before you know it. Hope you can live with that!"
"My heartfelt congratulations," I said sweetly.
May they rot together in hell for eternity.
Just as Andrew was about to hang up, the ward door burst open. My father stormed in, face gaunt with panic. He grabbed my hospital gown, shaking me violently.
"What did you do to the cord blood? The cultivation failed! Marianne's dead because of you!"
A strangled noise came through the phone. "Who... who died?" Andrew's voice had gone shrill.
I laughed in my father's face. "How is this my problem? You carved the blood from my womb. Now you come crying to me when your precious Marianne dies? Am I just your spare parts warehouse?"
The slap came fast—a sharp crack that left my ears ringing. "Why couldn't it have been you?" he spat. "Why did Marianne have to die?"
The room froze. Someone gasped: "She nearly bled to death yesterday! Are you trying to kill her?"
End of I Was Just A Womb To Them, Now They'll Pay Chapter 8. Continue reading Chapter 9 or return to I Was Just A Womb To Them, Now They'll Pay book page.