"I can't hide this for long, you'll still have to find a way to get pregnant quickly. I'll prescribe some fertility drugs for you." The doctor put the bank card away and exchanged phone numbers with Hannah.
"Alright, report my situation truthfully to the Wenshte Family. In a few days, when I feel better, I'll find a suitable opportunity to bring it up with Jonathan. I also need some medicine for men—see if you can get some for me." Hannah's eyes narrowed.
Since Lambert and Mia weren't leaving her any chance, from today onward, she would have to plan for herself. If she couldn't get Garcia Family's inheritance, she would take Wenshte Family's.
"Got it," the doctor agreed and turned to leave the room.
Outside, Hannah clearly heard a voice: "Miss Hannah is fortunate; both she and the child are fine, but she needs a few days of rest."
She finally relaxed, slowly closing her eyes, and soon fell asleep.
...
The hospital wasn't safe. Lambert brought Mia back to the villa overnight. It was already past four in the morning. In the spacious bedroom, Lambert sat on the sofa, his wheelchair pushed far away, while Mia sat on the edge of the bed, looking weak and pale.
"Sign it. It's for both of our good." Lambert's cold voice commanded her, the share transfer agreement lying on the table.
He had saved her from William's hands, destroyed the share transfer agreement William had forced her to sign, and tirelessly brought her back from the hospital. She thought it was out of kindness.
But she was wrong. He simply needed a quiet environment for her to sign this agreement transferring QIY without compensation.
'I've never done anything wrong to you. Daniel and I are clean. I will support you unconditionally. Whether QIY is in my hands or yours doesn't matter. It was left to me by my mother, and I must protect it.'
Mia anxiously gestured repeatedly, but Lambert didn't even look up. The room was silent, with the sound of breathing sharply audible.
"I don't want to waste time with you." He suddenly stood up, grabbed the contract from the table, and pushed it towards her.
Mia, frightened, stood up. Her head barely reached his chin. She raised her hand, but it was immediately knocked down.
Lambert, losing patience, grabbed her pale neck. "This is the reward for solving your problems."
"Sign it." The pen was held in his other large hand, placed right in front of Mia. He wanted her to willingly take the pen and sign.
Mia hesitated, somewhat reluctantly. She could hand QIY over to Lambert, but only if he knew her true identity.
'When we were young…'
Her hand started to move, but Lambert tightened his grip around her neck, increasing the pressure. He never showed mercy when tormenting her.
A tear fell helplessly from her eye. Mia lowered her gaze, feeling exhausted. She began to consider that she might never explain anything to Lambert again.
Resigned, she took the pen and grabbed the contract from his hand.
"You want QIY, don't you? You want my life too? Here, I'll give it to you, I'll give you everything." Mia's inner voice echoed as her tears flowed like a river.
With determination and a sense of hopelessness, Mia signed her name on the contract. Her hands fell open, and both the pen and contract dropped to the ground. She closed her eyes, tilting her head back, not struggling anymore.
"Mia, do you think this will make me pity you?" Lambert loosened his grip, and she crumpled to the ground like a ragdoll.
Her eyes were vacant and lifeless, and she didn't respond for a long time. If not for her trembling eyelashes, she might have looked like a corpse.
Lambert only took 40% of QIY's shares. He needed this portion as collateral for a new project investment but left 10% for Mia.
These shares, in her hands, would not only put her life in danger but were also useless. He would eventually return them to her. For now, he was just temporarily holding them, waiting for them to appreciate.
Emotional and heartbroken, after Lambert left in his wheelchair, Mia staggered to the bathroom. Her stomach churned, and she bent over the toilet, vomiting for a long time, feeling completely drained.
"Love is gone, my mother's QIY is gone, it's all gone." The voice in her mind made her tears flow uncontrollably. She stayed in the bathroom until dawn.
The next day, the sound of her phone's ringtone woke her up. Weakness invaded her body as Mia crawled off the floor, answered the call, and then opened the messages.
Daniel had sent several messages, all with the same content: "I've prepared the medicine for you. When can you come to the hospital to pick it up? I'm working at the hospital where you were last admitted."
Mia replied: "I'll come this afternoon. Thank you."
Her tone was polite, a clear sign that she hadn't rested well last night. She needed to sleep and eat before going out. The child was the most important.
She quickly fell asleep again, and had a dream. In it, Lambert strangled her to death, causing both her and the child to die.
She woke up in a cold sweat, hearing a servant knocking on the door, calling, "Young Mistress, it's time for lunch."
Mia showered, changed into fresh clothes, and went downstairs to eat alone. Lambert was rarely at home, and she had no right to question anything about him.
The food tasted like cardboard. After a few bites, she hurriedly left. Perhaps Lambert had instructed no one to stop her. After all, he had gotten what he wanted. Why would he care if she lived or died? The child was more of a threat to him.
Her mind was filled with turmoil as she made her way to the hospital. When she arrived, Daniel was waiting at the entrance with a bag of medicine for her.
"Since you're here, why not get a check-up as well? You don't look well. If your body has problems, it will affect the child too." Daniel extended his hand to help her.
She stepped back in panic, pulling out her phone from her pocket, quickly typing: "How could it be a preterm birth? Was it because I drank fish soup?"
"What fish soup?" Daniel asked instinctively, then quickly added, "You've been in a bad mood and constantly under stress. Your body is weak. You bled last time. You need to get checked."
Worried about the baby, Mia's face turned pale. She followed Daniel into the hospital, distracted by thoughts of the child's safety, nearly tripping on the stairs.
Daniel supported her shoulder. "Let me help you. The child is important."
Before Mia could refuse, Lambert's cold voice rang out from behind them: "Mia Garcia."
Just those two words made her heart race. Reflexively, she pushed Daniel away.
Ethan stepped forward and helped her to Lambert's side, making her push the wheelchair.
"Mr. Lambert, Mia's condition is not good. If you care about her and the child, stop making things difficult for her," Daniel said, unable to give her the medicine.
"Did she tell you this?" Lambert raised his head, his icy gaze fixated on Mia.
She shook her head.
"Come with me," Lambert ordered, no longer acknowledging Daniel.
Mia pushed the wheelchair, struggling with every step, gritting her teeth. She just had to endure this time. Once the child was born, they'd get a divorce. She thought to herself, her mood sinking further.
They waited outside the emergency room. Not long later, a car stopped in front of them, and the door opened with a wail. It was Jonathan's voice.
They rushed over to carry him out of the car. His arms and legs hung limply, as though he had broken bones.
"What happened?" Lambert pretended not to know, asking Ferguson who was following closely behind.
"Your stepmother did a great job! She did this to Jonathan." Ferguson growled, furious at the mention of Jennifer.
"I think his injuries are severe. You'd better go check on him," Lambert calmly suggested, turning his gaze away.
Minutes later, a red sports car entered their view. The person who got out was Jennifer, wearing sunglasses and dressed elegantly. She was surprised to see Lambert and Mia.
"What are you doing here? Is the baby alright?" Jennifer immediately asked about the child.
Mia shook her head. She couldn't cause any more trouble for Lambert.
"If the baby is fine, don't loiter around here. It's not good for the child…"
"Are you here for something?" Lambert interrupted, his tone cold. "What do you plan to do with Jonathan?"
Jennifer removed her sunglasses. "He stole the machine I was supposed to give to the client. If Ferguson doesn't cover the losses, I'll have to take Jonathan's shares. Even if it goes to the shareholders' meeting, Jonathan has no right."
"What are you talking about? The manufacturing department has always been your responsibility. You're the one who swapped the machines to frame my son. Now you're conveniently shifting the blame, trying to fire him first, and now pulling this dirty trick. Jennifer, Wenshte Group belongs to the Wenshte Family. It's not for an outsider like you to control!" Ferguson's voice echoed, furious. If Lambert weren't there, he would have already acted on his anger.
"The crucial parts of the machine were found in your son's villa. I don't like Jonathan, but I wouldn't use such underhanded tactics," Jennifer defended, her tone righteous.
They continued arguing, oblivious to Lambert sitting in the wheelchair. After the machine left the warehouse, Lambert's people had swapped it out, secretly placing the important parts in Jonathan's villa.
They had deliberately left clues, otherwise, Jennifer's foolish subordinates wouldn't have been able to trace it back to Jonathan.
Ferguson and Jennifer's conflict escalated quickly.
"Lambert, you've grown up with Jonathan. You know whether he would do such underhanded things. Now, tell this woman—was it Jonathan's doing?" Ferguson asked urgently, pulling Lambert forward.
No one could stand on the sidelines anymore. Ferguson had no idea who framed his son, but if Lambert wanted to remain neutral, he was dreaming.
"Lambert, do you think I should hold Jonathan responsible?" Jennifer's gaze shifted to Lambert.