On the day of the divorce, I rushed into the CEO's office with a pregnancy test sheet.
He hugged Bai Yueguang, who was three months pregnant, and sneered: "Take the money and go away, don't dirty my land."
Three years later, at the airport, his fleet of Rolls-Royces surrounded my affordable sedan.
"Mr. Gu," I lowered the car window a crack, "you're in the way."
He stared at the cute three-year-old baby in my arms with evil eyes: "Whose bastard?"
The cute baby suddenly threw out a bag of "poison" and hit him on his high-end suit: "Bad guy, back off!"
When the bodyguards rushed over, the cute baby got into the security checkpoint and used her electronic watch to counter-attack the fleet system.
"Mommy, run!" The strong signal interference paralyzed all the luxury cars and honked their horns.
That night when I escaped into the flower shop, the news of Gu's stock plummeting was being broadcast on TV.
The doorbell rang suddenly, and Gu Lichen held up a photo of a cute baby covered in rain: "Explain."
The moment I closed the door, he held it with his injured hand, and blood dripped down the crack of the door.
He asked hoarsely: "Who forged the abortion diagnosis certificate back then?"
