Gold Digger vs Gold Saver My Man's Double Life novel Chapter 19

**Marriage Without Temperature by Mark Twain**

**Chapter 3**

Theo’s hand halted abruptly, his cigarette suspended between his fingers like a moment caught in time. He took a step closer, the weariness etched into his bloodshot eyes betraying the turmoil within him. “Jules,” he said, his voice strained, “you can’t do this to me. I can’t bear to lose both of you at once. I refuse to accept it.”

His gaze held mine, an unspoken plea lingering in the air, heavy with desperation. “After tomorrow, I swear I’ll make it right. I promise you that,” he added, a hint of hope flickering in his tone.

With that, he turned on his heel and left the room, his footsteps echoing in the silence. All I could focus on was the twisted, triumphant smile that danced on Bianca’s lips, a cruel reminder of the chaos enveloping us.

I lost track of time as I succumbed to darkness, the last sensation being a sharp, tearing pain in my abdomen, followed by the sickening warmth of blood pooling beneath me. It was a grim reality that I could not escape.

As my consciousness slipped away, I caught a glimpse of shock etched on Bianca’s face, quickly replaced by a cold satisfaction that sent chills down my spine.

When I finally opened my eyes again, I found myself in a stark hospital bed, the sterile smell of antiseptic filling my nostrils. My hand instinctively moved to my stomach, only to find it horrifyingly empty. The sensation was all too familiar, and suddenly, the realization hit me like a punch to the gut: I had lost another baby.

*BANG.*

The door swung open with a force that rattled the room, and Theo stormed in, his presence a whirlwind of anger and confusion. He hurled a stack of medical reports at me, the papers fluttering like startled birds. “What the hell, Juliette! How could you be this cruel?” he demanded, his voice a mixture of disbelief and fury.

“Barely able to carry your own child, and now you’re trying to take Bianca’s too?” he spat, his words sharp as daggers.

My eyes widened in shock as I snatched the papers from the blanket, my heart racing. The patient information bore unmistakable signs of tampering, and the name glaring at me from the top read: Bianca Moreau.

She had switched our reports.

Theo’s expression twisted with disgust, his disappointment palpable. “I thought, even if you weren’t as pure-hearted as Bianca, you at least had some decency left in you. But this? You would kill an innocent life?” His voice trembled with rage.

“You make me sick,” I shot back, the words escaping my lips like venom.

I watched him storm out, my hand reaching out in vain, falling back to the bed like a wilted flower.

Moments later, Bianca sauntered in, a smug grin plastered across her face, carrying a thermos filled with French veal stew.

“How does it feel to lose your child and be blamed for mine?” she taunted, her voice dripping with mockery as she ladled out a bowl and extended it toward me with feigned concern.

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