"Priscilla, if you dare to bring us bad luck by placing your mother into the ancestral home, I will divorce you!"
Luther suddenly grabbed me, yanking me away from my mother’s body before shoving me against the nearby wall.
"Ugh!"
A sharp, unbearable pain tore through my abdomen.
I looked down. Blood quickly seeped through my clothes.
"Luther, save me…" My voice trembled uncontrollably.
Luther frowned, his tone impatient. "Priscilla Cowell, what are you doing again?"
"Don't think pretending to be pitiful will stop me from celebrating Stella's birthday."
I stared at him in disbelief. Was this really the man I had loved for eight years?
"Luther, the steel bar… it’s in my stomach… there's so much blood…"
I tried to move, but my belly was pinned against the steel bar. I could not free myself.
Luther noticed my struggle and took a step back, his expression filled with disgust.
"Bleeding? I barely pushed you and you're already bleeding?"
"You might as well say you've lost the baby! Your tricks to gain sympathy are getting worse and worse!"
Stella spoke softly, feigning concern. "Luther, maybe your wife is really upset."
"Just forget it. If we can't celebrate my birthday, then it's fine…"