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On our wedding night, Valerie didn’t hesitate to inject me with an excessive dose of ovulation stimulants. Peter completely ignored the severe abdominal pain I suffered from the drug overdose and forced himself on me over ten times.
Both of them eagerly anticipated my pregnancy and even bought a large quantity of fertility drugs, insisting I take good care of my body.
In my previous life, I had no idea Peter suffered from oligospermia and thought he genuinely wanted children. Even though those medicines tasted bitter and awful, I silently endured drinking them.
But this time, I poured all the medications directly into flower pots and used my phone to book six virile male models.
In my past life, I spent every day at home diligently taking injections and medications to prepare for pregnancy, while Peter never stopped sleeping with other women. He’d spend his days juggling various women and only return home at night to go through the motions with me.
However, fortunately, he wasn’t stingy with money and never set limits on my spending. But aside from that, he showed almost
no concern for me.
Therefore, in this life, my affairs with the six male models went
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completely unnoticed by him.
During the day, I indulged myself with the energetic male models. At night, I would casually brush Peter off.
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Meanwhile, I deliberately sent messages to provoke Valerie, hinting that I might already be pregnant.
Sure enough, after I revealed this news to Valerie, she hastily married a seventy–year–old wealthy old man the very next day.
Some well–meaning people advised her not to gamble with her happiness, but she didn’t care at all and even declared she would definitely bear this old man a son.
Everyone mocked her for being crazy.
But I understood that if she didn’t hurry up and get married, once I became pregnant, the child would immediately transfer to her belly. After all, if she remained unmarried, there would be no way to explain who the father was.
Initially, she had wanted to seduce Peter into bed, but with beautiful women surrounding him, Peter had no interest in her. She had to find another way out and settled for a wealthy old man who was already sterile.
I couldn’t be bothered with her scheming. Every day, aside from visiting Camilla, I spent my time enjoying myself with my kept male models.
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Four months later, Peter brought a doctor to examine my body, and Valerie also came to join the spectacle.
When the doctor announced that I wasn’t pregnant at all, Peter’s face immediately darkened.
He immediately erupted in anger: “I gave you so many ovulation shots, how are you still not pregnant? I married you and spent money on you just to have a child!”
Seeing me being scolded, Valerie was extremely pleased.
She glanced at me mockingly, lovingly stroking her own belly, and said with contempt: “Isabel, everyone in your family has such fertile genes, how are you the exception? My husband is already 70 years old, and I still managed to get pregnant successfully. But you? After trying so hard for so long, you’re still not pregnant.”
I looked up and saw that although she had only been married to that old man for four months, her belly looked like she was already eight months pregnant.
I suppressed the smile at the corner of my mouth and pretended to be upset: “I don’t know what’s wrong either. It’s all my fault!”
Seeing me so defeated, Valerie became even more smug and continued to mock me: “Pregnancy is also about luck. Maybe you just have bad luck, unlike me–I get pregnant easily. Mr.
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Geller, don’t be discouraged. You and Isabel will definitely
succeed next time!”
Looking at Valerie’s prominently protruding belly, Peter appeared quite depressed.
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Unwilling to admit that he couldn’t even compare to a 70–year–old man, he shifted all the blame onto me: “Isabel, you’ve taken so many medications, why can’t you even compare to Valerie? Tell me! Have you been neglecting to take your medicine properly during this time?”
I quickly shook my head in denial.
He then warned: “Isabel, I’m warning you–if you’re still not pregnant within our two–year trial marriage period, I won’t marry you when the time comes.”
Valerie hurriedly handed me a stack of ovulation injections.
She said, “Isabel, make sure you take your shots and medication properly. You’ll definitely get pregnant. Don’t slack off just because you’re afraid of pain or discomfort!”
After giving me countless reminders, they finally left.
Over the following period, I occasionally received provocative text messages from Valerie.
[Mr. Geller is so generous! He even bought me lots of fruit,
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feeling sorry for how hard pregnancy is on me!]
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[Oh my, Mr. Geller has been coming by so frequently lately, constantly asking me about how to get pregnant.]
[But I told him that not everyone is as lucky as I am. Isabel, you better work harder!]
Looking at Valerie’s boastful messages, I let out a cold laugh and reached over to caress the male model’s muscular chest.
After enjoying his services, I leisurely replied: [Then I really need to learn from you and give Peter a dozen children as soon as possible!]
I gently stroked my flat stomach, waiting to watch Valerie’s downfall.
Six months later, Valerie successfully gave birth to sextuplets for that seventy–year–old man.
However, due to eating too much fruit during pregnancy, the fetuses were abnormally large, and the delivery nearly killed her.
I thought Valerie would quiet down for a while after this.
But less than a month after she gave birth, I received a surveillance video.
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In the video, Valerie wore revealing lingerie, lifted Peter’s chin with her finger, and spoke in a seductive voice: “Mr. Geller, I have a fertile constitution. Would you like to try?”
Although Peter had been with countless women, a woman who had just given birth was still a novelty for him.
He smiled as he undressed and immediately embraced Valerie, beginning their sexual encounter.
He buried his head in Valerie’s full breasts, sucking frantically.
While moving rhythmically, Valerie didn’t forget to moan and ask: “Mr. Geller, what if I get pregnant before Isabel does?”
Peter, his eyes filled with lust, laughed and replied: “Whoever gets pregnant first, I’ll marry.”
Valerie continued asking: “But what if I really do get pregnant first?”
Peter chuckled softly, pinched Valerie’s nose, and promised: “Then of course I’ll marry you and bring you home!”
The two rolled together again, lost in passion.
Watching the surveillance footage of their affair, I felt
completely unmoved and casually wrapped my arm around the male model’s neck.
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Since they were working so hard, I had to make sure they got exactly what they wanted.
The agreed–upon two–year trial period quickly passed, and I confidently arrived at City Hall, notifying Peter to come register our marriage.
However, Peter showed up with my medical report, looking at me like I was trash: “Isabel, you’re not even pregnant, yet you still fantasize about marrying me? Dream on!”
Peter’s parents, Evelyn Geller and Bruce Geller, also rushed back from abroad, shaking their heads in disappointment: “We were told you had a fertile constitution, which is why we agreed to let Peter marry you. But you still can’t get pregnant! What a waste of our family’s investment in you, you worthless thing!”
In my previous life, Evelyn and Bruce had always looked down on my background, constantly mocking and even verbally abusing me.
In their eyes, I was just a breeding machine they had purchased, not a flesh–and–blood person.
And in my previous life, my death by car accident was the result of their scheming for Valerie.
I glared at them hatefully, then shrugged: “How is it my fault that I can’t get pregnant? Why don’t you blame your son instead?”
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Hearing this, Peter seemed to hit a nerve and glared at me viciously: “Isabel, since you’re so ungrateful, don’t blame me for abandoning you!”
With that, he announced in front of all the City Hall staff: “I will not marry her. My wife is someone else!”
People around us began whispering and pointing at me.
My expression remained unchanged as I asked mockingly: “Oh? Who’s lucky enough to be married by Mr. Geller?”
Peter snorted coldly: “Anyone I marry would be better than marrying a woman like you who can’t bear children!”
Then he shouted toward the City Hall entrance: “Valerie, come here and register for marriage with me!”
As soon as he finished speaking, everyone craned their necks to see who was coming.
The next second, they froze in terror and screamed: “Ghost! It’s a ghost!”
Valerie, supporting her waist and wearing a pure white wedding dress, slowly approached.
She was now skeletal, nothing but skin and bones, with thin limbs but an absurdly large belly.
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That belly looked like someone had forcibly stuffed hundreds of basketballs into it, grotesquely piled into a small mountain that had drained all her nutrition.
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