“Girl?!”

Naoya's fury echoed in the ultrasound room, resonating as the doctor unveiled the baby's gender. He stormed out like a tempest, slamming the door forcefully, causing both you and the doctor to startle.

“A daughter. Ugh. What daughter? I didn't need this,” he muttered, pacing back and forth impatiently as he waited for you outside. His once tender and caring demeanor had changed markedly over those five months. And now?

He pushed the driver away from the car, dismissing any assistance.

“You're completely useless,” Naoya declared getting into the back passenger seat and slamming the door with a force that made you flinch. “I married you for what? You couldn't even manage the fundamental task of delivering my son.”

You were beneath notice, as quiet as a mouse, fearing to contradict him, understanding the futility. Sitting next to Zen'in, you could only shield your rounded belly with your hands in a protective manner, as mothers often do, trying to defend their unborn child.

The car moved; it was even scary to imagine what might await you next when you return to the Zen'in estate.