Fiance Gave My Life-Saving Jade to First Love's Daughter

The Sunseal jade pendant I'd worn for twenty-two years was quietly taken off my neck by Clive Delgado, given to his one true first love's daughter to calm the child's fright.

That pendant was the Stewart family's sole-inheritance protective charm, the thing I'd leaned on since I was a child, carved into my very bones, and it was also what steadied the twins in my womb.

His childhood friend told him to think twice.

He said it carelessly: "Amelia cries herself into a faint every night. She needs it more than Eleanor Stewart does."

That day I stood outside his study, gripping the medical record the old doctor had just written up confirming my twin pregnancy, and I heard him laughing as he said, "Worst case, we just skip having the baby for now. Sibyl always listens to me."

Seven years living under a false name, setting aside everything I was as the Stewart heiress, I stayed by his side and toughed it out to this day.

And in the end, in his heart, my babies and my life together weren't worth one night of his first love's daughter crying.

I'd just woken up when I realized the Sunseal jade pendant I'd worn for twenty-two years was gone.

It wasn't an ordinary pendant. It was the protective charm passed down through the Stewart main line, generation to generation.

I was born with a pure-yin constitution, sickly and frail since childhood, and I relied on that pendant to gather warmth and hold my breath of life together.

The elders in the family had told me again and again: while the jade stays, the person stays; if the jade is lost, the person is in danger.

Clive hadn't come home until the early hours last night, reeking of alcohol, and before bed he'd leaned over to hold me, his hand brushing across my neck.

Pushing down the panic, I grabbed a coat and hurried to his design studio.

The studio door wasn't shut all the way. Inside I could hear his childhood friend, Warren Henson, his voice tight with worry. "Clive, did you really take that jade of Eleanor's?"

"That pendant really matters to her. She's worn it her whole life, never once taken it off. You need to get it back to her right now!"

Clive answered, a little irritated. "What's the big deal? It's just an old pendant. Look at you, blowing it out of proportion."

"Amelia's been crying for three days and three nights, can't even sleep. The master said she needs old jade with strong yang to settle her fright. Sibyl's about frantic. How could I not help?"

Warren pressed, "But it's Eleanor's. Couldn't you have at least talked to her before taking it?"

Clive said offhandedly, "What's there to talk about with her?"

"She's been with me seven years. She does whatever I say. Once Amelia's better I'll give the jade back, say a few nice things to her, and it'll be fine."

Warren was still trying. "Don't just brush it off! Last time I saw Eleanor go into the clinic, she looked terrible. Seemed like she might be pregn"

Clive cut him off before he could finish, casual about it. "So what if she is? It's just a pregnancy, nothing so delicate about it."

"If she really wants to throw a fit over this pendant, worst case we don't keep the baby for now. Wait until Amelia's stable, then we'll see."

"Eleanor loves me that much. You think she'd really fall out with me over it?"

I couldn't make out anything he said after that.

I stood outside the door, clutching the crumpled twin-pregnancy medical record in my pocket.

Seven years!

I'd hidden it from everyone in the Stewart family, lived under a false name to stay by his side, watched him go from a poor student with nothing to a designer with a bit of a name.

Afraid of bruising his pride, I never once mentioned my background, quietly pulling strings to feed him resources and land him projects, propping up his studio one step at a time.

I thought we were each other's anchor, the person the other would spend a whole life with.

It turned out that in his eyes, my life and our two children weren't worth one night of his first love's daughter crying.

I reached out and pushed the door open.

The two men inside looked over at the same time.

When Clive saw me, a flicker of panic crossed his face, quickly smoothed over as he put on an unbothered air. "What are you doing here? Didn't you say you were resting at home today?"

I asked, my voice low. "My pendant. You took it?"

He frowned, as if he thought I was making a fuss over nothing. "Yes, I took it!"

"Sibyl's daughter got a fright and needs jade to settle her. I'm just lending it to her for a few days. Once she's better I'll give it back to you."

I said, my anger breaking through, "Clive, when you took my things, did you ask if I agreed?"

His brows drew tight, his whole face displeased. "Do we really have to keep such clear accounts between us?"

"Eleanor, can't you be a little more reasonable?"

"Amelia's only five. I can't just watch her cry herself into something serious, can I?"

"It's just a pendant. Do you really have to pull such a sour face over it?"

I said through my teeth, "That jade is my life!"

He gave a contemptuous little laugh. "Your life, your life. It's just old jade. You were never this precious about it before!"

"Enough, stop making a scene. Tonight I'll take you to that sushi place you love, and we'll put this behind us."

He reached out to take my hand. I turned aside and dodged it.

I said coldly, "Clive, you'd better pray that the baby and I are both fine."

"Otherwise, you'll cry till there are no tears left!"

I turned and walked out. Behind me came the sound of Warren sighing, and Clive muttering in dissatisfaction, "She just gets more and more unreasonable."

Out of the studio, I reached up and touched my bare neck, the dragging ache low in my belly growing sharper.

Seven years of devotion. It turned out to be a joke.

I dragged myself back to the marital home on legs that could barely hold me, and the second I got the key into the lock and pushed the door open, I heard bright laughter drifting from the living room.

Two pairs of strange shoes sat in the entrywaya pair of white women's heels, a pair of little pink patent shoes for a childlined up right beside my own slippers.

In the living room, Sibyl Swanson was curled up on the sofa in my silk robe, picking spoonfuls of gourmet bone broth from a bowl and bringing them to her mouth.

On the rug, a little girl with her hair in pigtails was tossing around the limited-edition doll I'd brought back from overseas last month.

That doll had been meant for my own child.

Sibyl saw me and hurriedly set the bowl down, all timid and small as she said, "Eleanor, you're back?"

"I'm so sorry. I really didn't want to come, but Clive was worried about my daughter, so he brought us over to stay a few days."

"Please don't be upset. I'll pack up and go right now"

She turned as if to fetch the suitcase, then her step wobbled, like she couldn't quite stay on her feet.

The kitchen door opened at that exact moment. Clive came out carrying a bowl of warm sugar water, and the instant he saw her he strode over and caught her, his brows knotting tight before he swung his glare at me. "Eleanor, do you have to stand there with that sour face?"

"It isn't easy for Sibyl, raising a child on her own. So what if she stays a few days? Do you really have to make her feel unwelcome?"

Sibyl leaned into his arms, eyes rimmed red, and said in a small voice, "Clive, don't blame Eleanor. It's my fault. I shouldn't have come and gotten in the way of you two"

"This has nothing to do with you."

Clive patted her back, his voice going soft. "She's the one being childish!"

I stood in the entryway watching the two of them play off each other like a devoted married couple, while I was the one who looked like a stranger who'd wandered into someone else's home.

Just then the little girl ran over, threw her arms around Clive's leg, tipped her small face up, and chirped, "Daddy!"

My whole body went rigid.

My head snapped toward Clive, my voice tight. "What did she just call you?"

Something uneasy flickered across his face, then he squared up, righteous as ever. "She's little, she's never had a father, she's close to me, so she just says it. You're a grown woman. Why are you squabbling with a child?"

"Just says it?"

The whole thing was absurd. "Clive, we're getting married next month. You let another woman's child call you Daddy, and you never once thought about how I'd feel?"

His face darkened, his tone thick with impatience. "Can't you be a little more generous?"

"Do you have any idea how hard it is for Sibyl to raise a child alone?"

"Amelia McDaniel's been starved of a father her whole life. So what if I look out for her a little more?"

While he was still talking, Amelia tugged at Clive's hand and pointed toward the second bedroom. "Daddy, I want to go play in the princess room!"

My heart lurched. I crossed the room fast and pushed open the door to the nursery.

The sight inside cut straight into my eyes.

The crib I'd had custom-made was shoved into a corner, buried under toys.

The little clothes and tiny socks I'd prepared for my baby were thrown on the floor, trampled and filthy.

The whole room was full of Amelia's dolls, her dresses, her picture books. Not a trace of the way I'd first set it up remained.

Blood rushed to my head all at once. I turned, my voice shaking. "Who let her move into this room?"

Clive came over, frowning. "Amelia likes this room, says it's like a princess room. Our baby isn't even born yet, so what's the harm in letting her stay a few days?"

"Eleanor, when did you get so selfish?"

"It's just one room. Is that really worth this kind of tantrum?"

A furious laugh escaped me. "This is the room I prepared for my child. What gives you the right to move someone else into it?"

He flared up too, his voice rising. "Amelia needs somewhere stable right now!"

"Eleanor, you never used to be like this. You used to be the gentlest, most sensible woman. How did you turn into someone this aggressive?"

Beside him, Sibyl started to cry, sniffling. "It's my fault, it's all my fault. I never should have come."

"Eleanor, please don't be upset. I'll take Amelia and go right now. We won't bother you two anymore"

"You're not going anywhere!"

Clive grabbed her at once and turned to scold me. "Look at you. Look what you've driven her to!"

"Sibyl and Amelia are staying in this house today, and that's final."

"If you can't stand it, then go to your room and cool off!"

I watched him shield that mother and daughter, and my heart went cold all the way through.

I didn't argue with him anymore. I turned, walked into the bedroom, and shut the door.

My hand went to my belly, and my eyes filled.

Baby, I'm sorry.

Mommy was blind. Mommy chose the wrong man.

That night I barely slept. My belly ached with a dull, low pain, my throat felt strangely empty, and even breathing carried a chill.

The next morning, the moment I reached the top of the stairs, I heard Amelia's soft little voice drifting up from the dining room. "Daddy, Mommy said we can go take wedding photos this weekend, right?"

"Once we take the wedding photos, we'll be a real family, and I can be with Daddy and Mommy every single day!"

Sibyl's voice came with a false little scolding. "Amelia, don't say things like that. If your Auntie Eleanor hears, she'll be upset."

Amelia asked, puzzled, "Why would she be upset?"

Clive's voice was gentle. "Don't mind her."

"This weekend Daddy will take you all to have them done. Our Amelia can be the prettiest little flower girl, all right?"

Amelia clapped her hands, thrilled. "Yes! Thank you, Daddy!"

Seven years I'd been with him. I'd brought up wedding photos more times than I could count. He always said once the studio was stable, once this project was done, once we had the money.

So it wasn't that he didn't want to take them. He just didn't want to take them with me.

I drew a deep breath and walked down the stairs, one step at a time.

Clive looked up and saw me. The smile on his face faded a little. He set down his chopsticks, a trace of impatience in his voice. "You're up? Come eat."

I stopped beside the table and asked, calm. "You just said you're taking them to shoot wedding photos this weekend?"

He froze for a second, probably not expecting me to ask it outright, then frowned and scoffed. "It's just a photo to keep a child happy. You've got a problem with that?"

"Amelia's grown up envying other kids for having a mom and dad. So I humor her a little. What's wrong with that?"

"A grown woman like you, competing for attention with a five-year-old?"

I asked coldly, "Clive, the invitations for our wedding next month have already gone out. You're taking another woman and her child to shoot wedding photos. Where does that leave me?"

He grew more impatient. "It's one photo. What's it supposed to mean?"

"Eleanor, we've been together seven years. You were never this petty before."

Sibyl quickly set down her bowl and stood, eyes rimmed red. "Eleanor, I'm sorry. This is all my fault. I didn't raise my child right."

"I'll take Amelia and leave right now. We'll never appear in front of you again"

Clive stopped her, his voice gentle. "This has nothing to do with you. Stop taking the blame for everything."

Then he turned to me, his tone gone cold. "Eleanor, I'm warning you. Don't push it too far."

"Sibyl has been through enough. Don't corner her."

Watching the way he shielded them, I suddenly laughed.

"Fine. I'm pushing it too far."

"Then this weddinglet's call it off."

The moment the words left my mouth, the dining room went silent.

When Clive came back to himself, his face was full of scorn. "Eleanor, are you done throwing your fit?"

"Seven years, and you say it's off just like that?"

"You think I don't know you? You love me to death. As if you could bear to leave."

"Enough. Sulk for a couple of days and get it out of your system, but don't press your luck."

"Once Amelia's better, I'll buy you a bag and we'll put this behind us. That works, doesn't it?"

Looking at how sure of himself he was, the last shred of hope left in me shattered completely.

Yes. Seven years.

I had always gone along with him, done what he said, agreed to everything.

So he was certain that no matter how angry I got, I'd never actually leave.

He'd turned my love into a chip he could gamble without fear.

I said nothing more. I turned and went upstairs, walked into the bedroom, pulled open the closet, and started packing my suitcase.

Since he was so sure I wouldn't go, then I'd walk out and let him watch.

These seven years of a true heart, I'd just count them as thrown to the dogs.

I dragged my packed suitcase to the front hall.

Clive heard the noise and looked up. When he saw I really had a suitcase in hand, his brow snapped into a frown. Eleanor, what are you doing? You're actually leaving?

I said evenly, Clive, give me back my pendant.

Something uneasy flickered across his face. He set down his drawings and stood. Amelia's wearing it. She can't take it off right now.

Once she's better I'll give it back to you, of course. Now put the suitcase away and stop this.

I didn't give an inch. It's mine. I want it back now.

He said, irritated, Why are you so stubborn?

Amelia cries the moment the jade comes off. Can't you just wait a few more days?

I answered flatly, No.

Just then Sibyl came out of the room holding Amelia, and there, right on Amelia's neck, was my Sunseal jade pendant.

Sibyl's eyes were red-rimmed. She reached up to take the pendant off, her voice catching. Eleanor, take the pendant back!

We're the ones who should go, the two of us. I'll take Amelia and leave right now. We won't bother you two ever again

She started toward me as she spoke, hurrying, and when she reached the step at the entryway her foot slipped, and she came straight at me, child and all.

I was already weak and light-headed, unsteady on my feet, and her shoulder caught me hard. I stumbled back two steps, my back slamming into the shoe cabinet, and then I went down onto the cold marble floor.

A tearing pain ripped through my lower belly, and warm liquid ran down between my thighs, soaking through my pale trousers.

The pain drained my face white.

In a daze, I saw Clive rush over first.

I thought he was coming to help me up.

Instead he went past me and caught Sibyl and Amelia as they fell toward him, looking them over anxiously, his voice thick with worry. Sibyl, are you all right? Did you hurt yourself? Is Amelia frightened?

Sibyl huddled in his arms, shoulders trembling faintly, sobbing softly. I'm fine, it's just that Eleanor she

Only then did Clive turn to look at me.

When he saw the blood on the floor he froze for a second, then frowned, and there was actually blame in his voice. Eleanor, how could you be so careless?

Sibyl's frail as it is, and now look, everyone's hurt. Are you satisfied?

My tears finally fell, not from the pain, but from how cold my heart had gone.

My voice shook. You watched her crash into me with your own eyes, and you blame me?

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but Amelia burst out crying in his arms, and Sibyl cried even harder.

In an instant he had no attention left for me. Soothing the child, he said to me impatiently, All right, all right, enough of this. I'll call a doctor over.

Don't bother.

I cut him off, and bearing the pain, I braced on the shoe cabinet and slowly stood.

The blood was still running down my legs, dripping off my ankle onto the floor.

I looked at him. Clive, we're done.

From today, you and I are square.

He was stunned, probably never expecting me to say something like that. Reflexively he said, Eleanor, don't be rash. It's just a piece of jade, is it really worth

I cut him off and said coldly, The way you shield them makes me sick.

With that, I dragged my suitcase, pulled the door open, and walked out step by step.

Even though my belly hurt so badly I was near passing out, even though I could hear Clive shouting behind me, I never looked back again.

Seven years of love had died the moment he took my pendant.

And this fall severed every last thing I'd been holding on to.

After I left, Clive didn't come after me.

He probably still thought I was just throwing a fit, that I'd come back on my own in a couple of days.

After all, seven years, and every time we fought, I was always the one to back down first.

How could he have imagined that this time, I really wasn't going back.

I went back to the old Stewart residence.

When my parents saw me, face white as death and covered in blood, they were scared out of their wits. They called the family doctor in the middle of the night and stayed by me for three full days.

The babies couldn't be saved.

Two tiny lives, gone before they ever got the chance to see this world.

I lay in the bed with my hand on my flat belly, tears soaking the pillowcase without a sound.

My parents were beside themselves. My father wanted to send people after Clive right then, and I stopped him.

I said softly, What he owes me, I'll collect it back myself, piece by piece.

A week later, once I'd recovered a little, I formally took over Stewart Group's jewelry design division.

And it was right then that Clive's studio received an olive branch from Stewart Group: the design project for a top-tier jewelry showroom on prime land in the city center.

Everyone in the industry knew this was the prize to have. Whoever landed it would vault straight to the top as the new star of the design world.

Clive was wild with joy, sure that a top financial group had finally recognized his talent. He pulled several all-nighters on the proposal, ready to make a name for himself in front of Stewart's executives.

On the day of the meeting he wore a bespoke suit, his hair combed without a strand out of place, and arrived at the top-floor conference room of Stewart headquarters half an hour early.

An assistant poured him water and said politely, One moment, Mr. Delgado. Our CEO will be here shortly.

Clive nodded, nervous and pleased with himself all at once.

The conference room door swung open.

I walked in wearing a fitted black suit, a cluster of executives around me.

The smile on Clive's face froze in an instant, and the proposal slipped from his hand onto the table.

He shot to his feet, pupils shrinking, his voice shaking. Ellie? Why are you here?

Before I could say anything, the special assistant standing behind me stepped forward, his tone hard and cold. Mr. Delgado, show some respect.

This is the sole heir of Stewart Group, CEO Eleanor Stewart, and the lead on this project.