Carlos spoke with such authority that Angela couldn't help but feel a mix of awe and fear.
As the heir to a billionaire family, Carlos had a commanding presence, like a wolf king. But he wasn't hers anymore.
"Mr. Murphy, I don't want anything. Just please, for old times' sake, don't make things hard for me," Angela said.
Carlos chuckled at her words, amused by how she saw him. But it didn't matter anymore.
Carlos replied calmly, "Sure."
Upon hearing Carlos's words, Angela felt a deep heartache and turned away. Under his gaze, Angela's figure disappeared into the night.
Angela had to leave the man she loved the most.
Unbeknownst to her, a note had fallen to the ground after she left.
Carlos noticed it, walked over, and picked it up.
Carlos noticed the note dropped by Angela, walked over slowly, and picked it up.
When Carlos saw the note, his brows furrowed even more, and he grew increasingly cold as he said, "How dare you deceive me?"
However, Angela remained unaware of all this.
Five months later, in a rundown hospital, Angela was in labor, enduring excruciating pain.
Angela never imagined that she would give birth prematurely this time. She never imagined that premature birth could be so painful. And this kind of pain had been going on for a day. The doctor told her that if she couldn't give birth again, there would be a risk to her life.
In the backward facility she was in, a cesarean section was a major surgery with significant risks. Despite the challenges, she persisted for the sake of her child.
After another five to six hours of enduring the pain, Angela still hadn't given birth.
"Doctor, do a C-section! Save my child," Angela pleaded.
"We'll do our best," the doctor replied.
An hour later, the surgery was over.
Angela was exhausted, nearly at death's door.
Lying on the bed, her face devoid of color, Angela's heart raced as nurses took away two small babies.
Neither of the babies cried upon being born.
A bold guess formed in Angela's mind, but she hesitated to confirm it. She couldn't accept this reality.
Two hours later, a nurse approached.
"Ms. Parker, I'm sorry. We did everything we could, but due to their premature birth, they were too weak. We could only save one."
Placing a swaddled infant beside her, the nurse said, "This is the younger brother."
Angela's heart broke. She hadn't expected to lose the older twin.
She couldn't accept it.
She wanted to scream. Why was fate playing such cruel tricks on her? If Carlos had been by her side, would the outcome have been different? Angela felt deeply sorrowful and distressed.
Struggling to turn her face, she looked at the frail infant in the swaddle, his wrinkled face, gasping weakly with feeble cries.
"Where's his brother?" she asked.
The nurse replied, "Ms. Parker, the other baby was in bad shape, purple all over, and had no breath. It's better if you don't see him."
"Let me see," Angela suddenly cried out, "Let me see! I want to see my baby."
"Ms. Parker, please calm down. Your emotional state can affect your health. For your surviving child, please stay calm," the nurse advised.
Despite the pain, Angela sat up and held her surviving baby close, tears streaming silently down her face.
She had to be strong.
One child had passed away, but for this child, she had to pull herself together!
Seven years later.
A painful scream shattered the quiet night.
In a skyscraper's CEO office, a man writhed on the floor, whipped and crying out in agony.
A dozen cold-faced bodyguards stood by, while a very young child sat on the sofa.
The child was probably around seven years old, with delicate skin, a sexy face, and a pair of beautiful eyes with long eyelashes.
Such a clean and handsome child, dressed in a snow-white shirt, black suit pants, and a beautiful bow tie.
However, this adorable appearance was completely out of place with the gruesome scene before them.
Expressionless, he held a comic book, occasionally lifting his head to gaze coldly at the man being whipped.
The man screamed, begging for mercy, crying, "I was wrong, I know I was wrong."
Upon hearing the man's words, the child's eyes turned cold. He lifted his leg, wiped his shiny leather shoes, and then heavily ground them onto the man's face.
Eddie Murphy coldly questioned, "You know you were wrong?"
The voice, coming from a seven-year-old child, sounded innocent yet filled with a chilling aura, completely contradicting his cute appearance.
"I was wrong, I know I was wrong," the man sobbed, terrified.
It was as if the boy towering over him wasn't a child but a demon.
Eddie coolly asked, "What exactly did you do wrong?"
"I shouldn't have been eyeing your mom like that," the guy admitted.
Eddie pushed, "Eyeing her how?"
The guy was too embarrassed to say.
Eddie's foot pressed down a bit harder. "Spill it."
"I messed up, I know I messed up! I shouldn't have been crushing on your mom or bothering her. Please, forgive me!"