My bodyguard husband beat me into a miscarriage
That day, Malia deliberately pushed me down the stairs.
My son Liam Griffin merely glared at her, and Titus used that as an excuse to force Spencer to tie Liam and me up in an abandoned warehouse.
Spencer clenched his fists, tears in his eyes as he said, "Mr. Gibson said only if I do this myself will you understand how serious this is."
He beat my pregnant body until I was covered in blood, causing me to miscarry on the spot. Liam, who already suffered from leukemia, developed a high fever from an infected wound and fell into a coma.
After the punishment ended, Spencer carried us to the hospital with red-rimmed eyes.
In my hazy consciousness, I heard a conversation outside the hospital room.
"Mr. Gibson, you've been hiding your identity, caring for Mrs. Gibson's sister under the guise of being a bodyguard, and pretending to be forced into harming her, causing her miscarriage and Liam's coma. If she knew the truth, she'd be devastated."
After a moment of silence, Spencer spoke: "She'll never know. Even if she did, a woman with no one to love or care for her could never leave me. Malia is my benefactor. Anyone who hurts her, even my wife and son, must pay the price."
A tear slid down my cheek. So it had all been a lie from the very beginning.
The conversation outside continued as waves of pain crashed over me.
This wasn't the first time Spencer had used Titus as an excuse to harm Liam and me in order to protect Malia.
In my delirium, memories flooded back.
*****
I was the real daughter the Foster family had found.
But this family never truly accepted me. Their hearts always favored my sister Malia, who had stolen everything from me.
Throughout college, she repeatedly had others humiliate me.
Someone would sneer as they shoved my head into a toilet, men's hands tearing at my clothes.
Just when I despaired, Spencer appeared.
Just like years ago at the orphanage, he shielded me and drove everyone away.
I saw him as my salvation, believing there was still one person in this world who truly loved me. So I built a family with him despite his poverty.
When Liam was born and diagnosed with leukemia, Spencer never complained, just silently took on more work, running around day and night.
Life was hard but happy, until the day Titus made him Malia's bodyguard.
The day he was to start protecting Malia, I grabbed his arm, my face pale: "Don't go, Spencer. I can dance to earn money. Please don't become Malia's bodyguard. You know what she's like..."
He clenched his fists, his eyes conflicted, finally interrupting me softly: "Harley, stop dwelling on the past. Malia has changed. Besides, this job pays well—with the money, we can treat Liam's illness."
Looking at frail Liam in his hospital bed, I let go of his arm.
I watched helplessly as the one person who had ever loved me turned to protect Malia, who had stolen my family and hurt me.
Even worse, to protect Malia, he actually hurt me.
The first time, because I didn't smile when I saw Malia, she cried pitifully and asked if I still resented her for taking my parents away.
Titus immediately ordered Spencer to tear my mouth.
The second time, at a dance performance when someone publicly praised my dancing, Titus commanded Spencer to sever my Achilles tendons.
The ninety-sixth time, Malia accidentally shattered my mother's urn, and the fragments cut her hand.
Titus made Spencer take a knife and personally carve one hundred wounds into my body.
Now, this was the ninety-seventh time.
My mother was the only person in this world who was ever kind to me. The day her urn shattered, I wanted to take her away from this house, but I happened to run into Malia.
She caressed her swollen belly and whispered in my ear: "The child in my womb isn't Mr. Gibson's at all—it's Spencer's. Everything you want will belong to me."
I stared at her belly, eyes widening, then looked at Spencer standing nearby with reddened eyes.
Before I could speak, Malia suddenly screamed.
Spencer instantly rushed forward, forcefully shoving me aside to hold her tightly in his arms.
I stumbled toward the staircase, and Malia seized the moment to push me.
As I fell, I saw her lips silently mouth: "Who do you think he'll believe—me or you?"
As I fell through the air, watching Spencer anxiously lean down to check if Malia was hurt, I suddenly found it almost laughable.
I lay on the ground, covered in blood, in so much pain I could barely move.
Liam pressed his hands tightly against my bleeding wounds, crying out to Spencer: "Dad! Save Mom! Save the baby in Mom's belly!"
But Spencer only covered the tiny cut on Malia's hand, looking at me with disappointment: "Harley, was it worth it? To frame Malia, you didn't even care about the child in your womb?"
He turned his head and said coldly: "I'm Malia's bodyguard. I have to ensure her safety first. Once the doctor confirms she's fine, then I'll deal with you."
In that moment, my eyes welled up with tears. Today wasn't even his work day.
Liam clenched his teeth, watching helplessly as his father carried Malia away, hatred burning in his eyes.
Malia trembled slightly, shrinking into Spencer's arms, saying timidly: "Spencer, I'm so scared. Liam is glaring at me."
Because of those words, Liam and I were punished again.
When I woke up, Liam, who suffered from leukemia, and I had been tied up in an abandoned warehouse.
Spencer stood before me, his fists trembling slightly: "Harley, why do you always have it out for Malia? You falsely accused her of bullying you, but she's already forgiven you. She never meant to compete with you for your parents' attention, so why do you keep targeting her? You even made Liam look at her that way! Malia is timid—that look scared her so much she couldn't sleep all night!"
The pain from falling down the stairs hadn't subsided. I turned my head to see Liam beside me breathing rapidly, red blotches spreading across his body, and my heart sank.
Fighting through the excruciating pain, I struggled to kneel up, my voice hoarse as I pleaded: "Spencer, please tell Mr. Gibson to spare Liam! He has leukemia—if his wounds get infected, it could be fatal. Please, it's all my fault. Don't drag him into this!"
Blood seeped from my wounds again.
Spencer looked down at me, covered in blood, then at Liam, who was nearly suffocating. A flicker of hesitation crossed his eyes.
But moments later, he clenched his fists, his eyes reddening as he steeled himself: "Mr. Gibson said only if I do this myself and hit hard enough will you understand how serious this is. To pay for Liam's medical bills, I have no choice."
Every time he hurt me to protect Malia, he used the same excuse.
But this time, watching Liam hanging by a thread, I no longer believed him.
Warm liquid trickled down my legs—I knew the baby was gone. He had beaten me until I miscarried.
Spencer walked step by step toward Liam, who was now burning with fever and convulsing.
I lay in a pool of blood, consciousness fading, my lips trembling as I squeezed out one last plea: "Liam really will die. Please, Spencer."
He turned back, his eyes bloodshot: "Harley, stop targeting Malia. Otherwise, next time, Mr. Gibson will want your and Liam's lives."
In the last moment before losing consciousness, I saw Liam with a bacterial infection, bleeding uncontrollably.
*****
I don't know how much time passed before voices outside the hospital room reached me again.
"Mr. Gibson, Liam's injuries are too severe, and with his leukemia, the bleeding won't stop. Are you really going to make him donate bone marrow to Malia's unborn child tomorrow? He won't survive it."
Spencer's voice carried a hint of tenderness: "I'll have them use medication to keep him alive. The Gibson family fortune will eventually go to Malia's child. That child has been diagnosed with leukemia, and I won't allow anything to go wrong. As for Liam, being a half-dead living corpse is enough. That way, he'll never be able to compete with Malia's child for the inheritance."
My mind was reeling. So Malia's child really was his.
He had not only hidden his identity and pretended to be forced into hurting us, but from the very beginning, he never intended to save our son.
Just then, the heart monitor beside me began beeping shrilly.
The hospital room door burst open as Spencer rushed in, frantically grabbing my hand and shouting for a doctor.
I struggled to open my eyes, finally awakening slowly that afternoon.
Spencer sat by the bedside, unshaven with bloodshot eyes.
The young nurse couldn't help but sigh as she changed my dressing: "Your husband is so good to you. He hasn't eaten or slept for three whole days and nights watching over you. If you hadn't woken up, I was afraid he'd starve to death right here."
I forced the corners of my mouth into a bitter smile.
He's good to me? My injuries were caused by his own hands!
Spencer held my hand, gently stroking it. "I'm sorry, honey. We lost the baby. I really had no choice at the time—Mr. Gibson forced me to do it. If I hadn't acted, someone else would have. Besides, you and Liam did target Malia first, so you were in the wrong. Please don't hurt her anymore."
He paused, and a hint of joy actually appeared on his face. "Oh! Mr. Gibson found someone willing to donate bone marrow to Liam! He's already agreed, and they'll perform the bone marrow transplant surgery on Liam first thing tomorrow morning."
My heart plummeted, my face instantly turning pale as I asked with reddened eyes: "Is someone else donating bone marrow to Liam? Or are you saying Liam has to donate his bone marrow to someone else?"
Panic flashed in Spencer's eyes as he reached out to stroke my hair. "What are you talking about? Of course someone else is donating to Liam. Liam has leukemia—how could he possibly donate bone marrow? That would be a death sentence."
But those words pierced my heart like needles.
So you do know that making Liam donate bone marrow to someone else would be killing him.
That night, I quietly pulled out my IV needle and, supporting my weak body, slowly made my way to Liam's room.
I wanted to take him away, but standing outside the sterile room's glass window, watching his small body filled with tubes and his weak breathing, I suddenly didn't know where I could take him.
As if sensing my presence, Liam slowly opened his eyes.
He used all his strength to try to smile at me, but just as the corners of his mouth lifted slightly, they fell back down helplessly.
I quickly covered my mouth and turned away, not wanting him to see the tears streaming down my face.
With trembling hands, I pulled out my phone and dialed Spencer's number.
It took three attempts before someone finally answered.
His slightly impatient voice came through: "Harley, I'm Malia's bodyguard right now, and I'm working. Didn't I tell you not to call during work hours? What if someone tries to hurt Malia while I'm distracted?"
I looked toward Spencer in the distance, gently feeding Malia, and bitterness welled up in my heart.
So feeding her is also part of a bodyguard's duties?
Looking at Liam's tiny body, my voice choked: "Please don't make Liam donate bone marrow to someone else, okay? He'll die. He's your son."
There was silence on the other end for a few seconds, then came a light chuckle: "Stop overthinking. Liam's surgery tomorrow will go smoothly."
Before I could respond, the call was disconnected.
The next second, Malia called, and I instinctively answered.
Her voice was soft and sweet, tinged with concern: "Spencer, are you really going to have Liam donate bone marrow to the baby in my belly? But Liam has leukemia—can he handle it?"
In the room, Spencer's hand gently covered her abdomen: "Yes, the child in your belly will be healthy. As for Liam, with Mr. Gibson's medical team there, he'll be fine."
The call ended.
I stood there as my tears finally broke free, silently streaming down my face.
?
My knuckles turned white as I gripped my phone, fingers trembling slightly from the force.
After taking a deep breath, I dialed that long-buried number.
That night, a Maybach silently pulled up outside the hospital.
I was pushing Liam's hospital bed, preparing to leave, when Spencer blocked my path at the end of the corridor with his men. This was the ninety-eighth time.
I shielded Liam protectively, but Spencer's face was cold as he yanked me aside.
"Harley, haven't you caused enough trouble? Mr. Gibson wants to treat Liam. Taking him away now—are you trying to kill him?"
My eyes blazing red, I jerked my hand free. "Who's really trying to kill him? Extracting Liam's bone marrow to donate to the baby in Malia's belly will kill him! You know he'll die!"
A flicker of reluctance crossed Spencer's eyes, and his tone softened as he tried to coax me: "What are you talking about? Mr. Gibson said himself that he's going to treat Liam. Harley, don't overthink this, okay?"
Just then, Malia walked over clutching her belly, her face pale. "Spencer, I'm in so much pain. Is the baby's leukemia acting up? Am I going to miscarry?"
Spencer immediately panicked, rushing to support her and carefully settling her onto a hospital bed.
He pulled out his phone, pretending to receive a message, then coldly ordered: "Notify the medical team. Mr. Gibson just gave word—proceed with the bone marrow transplant surgery immediately."
I stood frozen, staring at him in disbelief.
Before he'd even finished speaking, his men swarmed forward, reaching for Liam's bed.
I clutched Liam tightly, refusing to let go. "Spencer, please! Malia, I'm begging you both to spare Liam!"
A flash of struggle and heartache crossed Spencer's eyes, but ultimately he leaned down, trying to pry my fingers loose. "Harley, stop making a scene. Liam will be fine. Be good."
I'd rather die than let go.
Finally, he sighed: "Harley, don't blame me for this."
His face turned cold as he broke my fingers. My agonized screams didn't stop him—he forcibly tore Liam from my arms.
With my broken fingers, I crawled after him, grabbing at Spencer's pant leg, pleading desperately, only to be kicked away.
Liam and Malia were wheeled into the operating room.
I pounded on the operating room doors, trying to claw them open with my fingers, but even with my hands covered in blood, it was useless.
When the surgery ended, Spencer gently wheeled Malia away, his eyes full of tender concern.
I stumbled into the empty operating room and found Liam on the cold metal table.
With his leukemia causing clotting disorders, the surgical table beneath him was soaked in blood.
The doctors silently shook their heads and left.
I knelt beside the table, holding Liam's still-warm body, but no sound would come from my throat.
For the ninety-ninth time, Spencer had killed our son for Malia's sake.
I held Liam's cold body, sitting motionless in the operating room.
When dawn broke, I stood up like a puppet and walked out step by step.
That's when Malia blocked my path with a smile: "Actually, the baby in my belly doesn't have leukemia at all. I just said it casually—I never expected Mr. Gibson would really give me your son's bone marrow."
With Liam dead, I had nothing left to hold back.
I used every ounce of strength to slap her hard across the face.
I was about to hit her again when Spencer shoved me away violently.
Liam's body fell to the floor, and I frantically crawled to his side to pick him up.
Spencer's face was ice-cold: "Harley, haven't you caused enough trouble? You hurt Malia last time and got punished for it—didn't you learn your lesson? I already told you Liam would be fine. Look at yourself now—what kind of behavior is this?"
I didn't look at him, just numbly checked Liam's body for injuries from the fall.
Spencer seemed to sense something, a flash of heartache crossing his eyes, but his words remained brutally cold: "Harley, apologize to Malia. Otherwise, when Mr. Gibson finds out, he won't spare you or Liam. When that happens, I won't be able to protect you either."
I slowly raised my head and burst into laughter: "Mr. Gibson? You are Mr. Gibson, aren't you? Stop pretending—Liam is already dead. What more do you want?"
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