Then his voice came back, dripping with disbelief. "Who did you say? Naomi? Stella, don't be ridiculous. You know how much I've hated her from the start. She's always stealing your time, demanding your attention more than I do. She crashes every single date. If it weren't for you—"

"Alex." I cut him off, forcing down the grief clawing at my chest. "Would you ever betray me?"

I stared at the consent form.

Three months pregnant.

Which meant before this, Naomi and Alex had already slept together. Maybe even longer than that—maybe they'd been together for a while. How long, exactly?

I needed to know.

"Stella, did someone tell you some kind of rumor?"

Alex's probing tone was like a dull knife twisting into my chest. It hurt so much I could barely breathe, yet I still heard him say—

"Stella, don't believe it. Don't listen to other people's nonsense—"

I hung up before he could finish.

If it had only been suspicion at first, then Alex not daring to face my question head-on, his guilt-ridden shift in attitude—it all made one thing crystal clear.

Alex had really betrayed me.

Then what about Naomi?

I sat in the conference room and finished signing the contract with the client. By the time I was done, it was already evening. The phone I'd left on silent was about to explode.

Over a hundred missed calls. Countless WeChat messages and texts—all from Naomi and Alex.

I opened Naomi's chat window. Voice messages.

"Have you lost your mind?"

"You suspect I'm having an affair with Alex?"

"Me? Into that dog Alex Mason?"

"Back then, you insisted on being with him—didn't I tell you to break up? Didn't I say not to be with that dog?"

I remembered.

When I first started dating Alex, I couldn't wait to introduce him to Naomi. I told him she was the most important person on my side, and that I wanted him to treat her as well as he treated me.

I told Naomi too—that I really, really liked Alex.

She promised to observe carefully. But the moment she saw him, she launched in.

"You like our Stella? How many apartments do you have? What kind of car do you drive? How's your income?"

I couldn't even stop her. She'd already blurted out—

"Stella's last boyfriend drove a Porsche. You can't be worse than him, right? Otherwise how's she supposed to show you off?"

Alex held back his anger that day. Kept his manners. Answered every question.