Tina opened the drawer, slipped out a small knife, and ran the blade along a hidden groove in the back. She pried it open and took out a voice recorder. There was also a card inside, with an address scribbled on it.
She pressed play on the recorder. Emerson’s voice came through, instantly recognizable.
At first, Tina just looked grim. But when she heard Emerson mention he’d stored a blood sample at the hospital, her whole body froze.
A blood sample. If that woman had the baby and did a paternity test, everything Emerson owned could be split with her. He was actually pushing Tina to the edge.
How ruthless. Absolutely ruthless.
Thirty years of marriage, and he still managed to go this far. Even with his own life falling apart, he was still thinking about his mistress and their baby.
With a loud scrape, Tina shoved her chair away from the desk. Furious, she paced the room, hands on her hips. Fine. Just perfect.
She grabbed her phone and typed in the address.
It was a café right across from the office.
At two in the afternoon, Tina walked into the café, her bag swinging from her arm. Years in the business world had shaped her into the very definition of a strong woman—every step radiated confidence and elegance. People couldn’t help but stare as she passed.
In the far corner, she spotted a young woman—beautiful, almost eerily familiar, like someone out of Tina’s past.
She wore a loose white dress, hair cascading down her back like silk. From behind, you’d never guess she was pregnant. Not until you got up close.
Tina’s gaze dropped to her belly, her eyes unreadable.
“You made it, sis,” the girl said, her voice sweet and a little too friendly. “I heard you don’t like milk, so I ordered you an Americano.”
Amber’s tone was soft, but the way she called her “sister” sounded anything but sincere.
Tina’s fingers tightened on her bag until her knuckles turned white. She didn’t like milk—how obvious. Clearly, someone had been talking.

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