CHAPTER 3: SAVE THE BABY.

The hospital's sterile walls echoed with the faint beeping of machines. Isabella lay on the operating table, tears streaming down her cheeks, clutching the hands of the nurse standing by her side.

"Please, doctor...save my child," she cried, her voice shaking. "I beg you!"

The doctor did not respond, his face grim as he directed the nurses to prepare emergency equipment. A nurse gently pried Isabella's hand away, leading her to the operating room.

Isabella sobbed uncontrollably, her body trembling as the painful reality dawned on her.

Outside the emergency room, Wyan stood rigidly pacing back and forth. On a nearby bench, his mother, Mrs. June, sat rigidly, her lips pursed in contempt and her arms folded.

As she watched the tension, Sophie Ben leaned lazily against the wall, the tiniest hint of a contented smirk tugging at her lips.

After an hour, the doctor came out, removing his mask and gloves with a tired air. Wyan hurried forward, his face white with anxiety.

"How is she doing, Doctor? How is the baby doing?" He inquired, his tone tinged with urgency and fear.

The doctor's face became somber as she said, "Mr. Wyan, the situation is critical. Both the mother and the infant are in danger. I am sorry, but we can only save one."

"Save one, doctor?" The words struck Wyan like a sledgehammer, leaving him speechless. His lips moved apart, but no sound came out.

The doctor appeared hurried as she continued, "So tell me, who should be saved, the mother or the child? We are running out of time."

Mrs. June, on the other hand, recovered quickly and got up from her chair with confidence.

"Save the baby," she stated firmly, leaving no room for debate. "A child is a blessing and a legacy. Isabella has already proven to be a disgrace to the family. The baby should live."

Wyan's heart tightened with the weight of the decision. He hesitated, his gaze returning to the operating room's closed doors.

He remembered the joy in Isabella's eyes when she first told him about their child, and how she imagined their future together.

"No," he said, his voice firm but painful. "Save Isabella; save the mother."

Mrs. June's expression twisted in rage. "Wyan, are you insane? How dare you pick that woman over your own child? Sophie as an heiress would never have put you in this situation!"

Wyan ignored her outburst and turned to face the doctor. "Save my wife, please. That is my decision as her husband."

The doctor nodded curtly and returned to the operating room.

Mrs. June became enraged. "You fool!" she yelled, her tone rising. "You are willing to sacrifice our bloodline for that woman? She is nothing but a blemish on our family!"

"Enough already, Mother!" Wyan snapped, his patience dwindling. "I made this decision, and it is final."

Mrs. June's eyes narrowed, but before she could respond, Sophie spoke up, softly and measured.

"Wyan, I understand your desire to save her, but is not this her fault?" Sophie's eyes lowered, indicating reluctance. "She attacked me, and in her rashness, she injured herself and the baby. If she had been more cautious..."

Mrs. June was enraged by the accusation. "Exactly!" she exclaimed. "This is something Isabella brought on herself. She is unfit to be a mother, let alone your wife. Sophie certainly is!"

Wyan's jaw tightened as he heard the accusations, his anger simmering beneath the surface. He stared at the emergency room doors, his mind in a state of chaos.

The image of Isabella clutching her stomach with pain etched on her face haunted him.

"She will pay for this," he reasoned grimly, his heart hardening against her.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the doctor returned. "We have done everything we can. Although the mother has been stabilized, we were unable to save the baby. I am sorry."

The words struck Wyan in the chest like a dagger. He nodded with clenched fists and an unreadable expression. Mrs. June stormed out of the hospital, cursing Isabella's worthlessness.

Sophie lingered, her expression neutral but her happiness barely concealed.

Isabella was wheeled into the recovery room, her face pale and her body weakened. Wyan and Sophie followed, their steps heavy with the weight of what had happened.

They went in, and Isabella's eyes fluttered open as she stirred. She spoke in a weak but desperate voice as she struggled to sit up. "Wyan…my baby…how is my baby?"

When Wyan heard her question, his jaw tensed. His voice was cold and sharp as he responded, "You murdered our child, Isabella. You can only blame yourself."

The words landed on her like a physical blow. She shook her head, her eyes widening in shock and tears running down her cheeks. "No, Wyan, it was not me. Sophie did it! She pushed me!"

Sophie exclaimed, clutching her chest in mock horror. "How could you accuse me, Isabella? After all, you are still lying to protect yourself?"

"This is the truth!" Isabella cried aloud, her voice hoarse with emotion. She gestured at Sophie with a trembling finger. "She was the one who hurt me. She is responsible for our baby's death!"

Wyan's patience finally gave way. "Enough, Isabella!" he exclaimed. "You expect me to believe your lies over Sophie's honesty? You are disgusting to me."

Isabella cried uncontrollably, her heart breaking into pieces. She clutched her chest, the agony of losing her child heightened by Wyan's unwavering distrust.

Sophie moved closer to Wyan, putting a comforting hand on his arm and acting innocently as usual. "Wyan, I will have to leave. She is obviously not thinking clearly when she blames me."

Wyan nodded, turning away from Isabella with a cold expression. "You are not going anywhere, Sophie. I know you did not do it."

As Wyan defended Sophie, Isabella's desperation-filled cries echoed behind them. "So you do not believe your own wife Wyan? I am telling the truth, she pushed me."

"No, she did not; you made the entire mess yourself." Wyan gave a cold response.

"You will regret this, Wyan!" She wept the most. "You will regret believing her lies over me!"