My Husband Stole My Pregnancy Money to Buy His Dream Girl a Purse

I'd spent six months saving every penny for prenatal care, but the money vanished overnight. Panicking, I called my fiancé, only to see him on another woman's social media. The man's busy silhouette radiated excitement, with a luxury handbag sitting at the edge of the photo. The caption read: "Mr. Wellington is such a gentleman! Today's happiness starts with snagging the last designer bag at the boutique~" When I came out of surgery, my furious fiancé finally showed up. His first words were an accusation. "Can you stop treating me like I'm on a leash?" "My friend was feeling down, so I bought her a bag and kept her company. What's wrong with that? Why are you so petty!" Chapter 1 When I was wheeled out of the operating room, my lower abdomen still throbbed with sharp pain. The agony of having my uterus scraped clean was nothing compared to the ache in my heart. Just three hours earlier, I had arrived at the hospital for my appointment with the high-risk pregnancy specialist, right on time. But at the payment counter, I discovered that all the money I had painstakingly saved had vanished from my account overnight. I stared at my phone in disbelief, eyes wide, frantically refreshing the banking app over and over. Ever since we learned that my barely-formed baby was in critical condition, I had scraped together every penny to afford the specialist consultation. I stood frozen at the payment counter, breaking out in a cold sweat from panic. The stress was making my lower abdomen cramp with an ominous ache. That money wasn’t just money to me—it meant life or death for my child. Behind me, other patients waiting in line began grumbling impatiently. "What's the holdup? Some of us have appointments too! Move it along!" Sweat beaded on my forehead. Overwhelmed and desperate, tears began blurring my vision. Finally, a nurse monitoring the payment kiosks noticed how pale I looked. She helped me to a chair, but no matter what I tried, I couldn't get that money to appear in my account. Just as I was about to break down completely and call the bank's fraud line, my first instinct was to tell my boyfriend I'd been robbed. But when I opened my messages, the first thing I saw was a social media post Wendy Walker had just shared: "They say the way to a girl's heart is through her stomach— Mr. Wellington really knows how to take care of a woman! Today's happiness starts with snagging the last designer bag at boutique~" The photo showed a man's silhouette cooking in a kitchen. In the corner of the image sat a brand-new luxury handbag—its price exactly matching the amount that had disappeared from my account. The room spun. A violent cramp tore through my abdomen as I felt something warm and wet between my legs. As they rushed me into surgery, I heard the doctor's urgent voice. "Patient's miscarrying—where's her family? We're losing the baby!" I heard the nurse trying to reach Daniel over and over. When she finally got through, Daniel just snapped. "Can you stop calling me every five minutes? I'm working my ass off so she can afford the best prenatal care, aren't I?" Chapter 2 When Daniel finally showed up and pushed open my hospital room door, he hadn't even bothered to wipe the irritation off his face before he saw me lying there, pale and hollow-eyed. While I had been losing our child on an operating table, this so-called father had been cooking for another woman. And me—his girlfriend who'd supported him through years of struggling—I couldn't even get a text back. Under the nurse's disgusted stare, Daniel shifted uncomfortably. "Kandice, why didn't you call me about something this serious?" I didn't answer, but the nurse raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Wellington, right? Weren’t you the one who blocked her number while she was bleeding out on this very bed?” Daniel hated being embarrassed in public. After the nurse's blunt accusation, he shot me a murderous look. I knew he'd blame me for making him look bad. Once the nurse left, he dropped all pretense. "Kandice, I was only gone for a few days on business. You couldn't even keep our baby safe?" My lips were cracked and dry, my eyelids heavy with exhaustion. When I didn't respond, Daniel grabbed my shoulder roughly. His finger jabbed toward my face, voice dripping with contempt. "What good are you anyway? I bust my ass at work to support us both. You've got some nerve glaring at me like that. Everything you spend comes from my paycheck." I managed to part my cracked lips, not bothering to hide my contempt. "Support us? Daniel, you're the one who begged me to quit my job and focus on this pregnancy. Cut the act. Business trip? More like a booty call." Maybe my expression looked too broken, because Daniel backed off slightly. "I just needed that money for an investment opportunity. How was I supposed to know you'd lose the baby today? Besides, that investment just got me promoted to regional manager. We're finally going to be comfortable." I let out a bitter laugh as he pulled out his phone, pretending he was about to pay the hospital bill—only to see that it had already been paid. “My friend covered it,” I said flatly, too exhausted to even look at him. I sank back into the pillows, too drained to even look at his twisted expression. Chapter 3 In the heavy silence, I closed my eyes and listened to Daniel mutter curses under his breath. The mattress dipped as he sat down, studying the cold sweat on my forehead. "Here. Got you something." He tossed something onto my chest, jostling my surgical site. I opened my eyes to see Daniel looking down at me smugly. "It's a vintage designer bag—way nicer than anything you could afford before. Don't worry, now that I'm moving up in the company, I might buy you the real deal if you play your cards right." I picked up what was obviously someone's old castoff. When I opened it, I found a hair elastic tangled with strands of bleached hair. The cheap knockoff reeked of desperation and humiliation. Without hesitation, I hurled the grimy bag across the room. "Keep your garbage. I don't want it." Daniel watched his "gift" hit the wall and jumped up from the bed. "Don't be such a bitch! Who do you think you are, some trust fund princess? Get over yourself." A bitter laugh escaped my throat as I pressed my hand to my empty womb. "How do you know I'm not?" Daniel stared at me like I'd lost my mind. "If you had money, would you have lived on ramen with me for three years? Would you have given up everything to help me build my career?" I met his gaze steadily. After his cruel words, something seemed to dawn on him about everything I'd sacrificed. "Look, enough drama. Wendy and I are just friends—practically family. Besides, her connections are helping my career. Can't you think about what's best for our future?" He reached for my hand like he was doing me some grand favor, but the impatience in his eyes gave away his true feelings. I wanted to slap that smug look right off his face, but I was too exhausted—too drained to do anything but sleep. Chapter 4 When the nurse wheeled me to the hospital entrance, she shot me one last worried glance. I was about to ask Daniel to help me into the car when I realized he'd already climbed behind the wheel without looking back. When he noticed I hadn't gotten in yet, he honked the horn impatiently. "What's taking so long? I've got places to be." He rolled down the window, his expression shifting when he saw the nurse struggling to support me. The nurse's face flushed with anger, clearly outraged on my behalf. But I knew Daniel’s temper and didn't want to cause her trouble, so I squeezed her hand gently and limped toward the car. Once I collapsed into the passenger seat, sweat beaded on my forehead from pain and exhaustion. When I finally caught my breath, I noticed a cutesy sticker on the dashboard: "Mr. Wellington’s favourite girl sits HERE!" Daniel glanced at me nervously while driving, offering a weak explanation. “Wendy was just being playful—don't read into it." Hearing him call twenty-five-year-old Wendy "playful" made my stomach churn. Playful? She was a grown woman. Too weak to argue, I turned toward the window instead. A wave of self-loathing washed over me. How had I been so blind to waste three years on this man? Not only had I moved into his crappy studio apartment, but I'd hidden my wealthy background to protect his fragile ego while we lived on ramen and hope. I leaned against the window with a bitter smile as Daniel turned on music and his GPS to break the tension. "Hey there, handsome! Your favorite girl Wendy is here to guide you home~" Wendy’s voice purred through the car speakers in a custom navigation recording. I'd been about to close my eyes, but this was the final straw. "Daniel, if you're going to apologize, at least put some effort into it. I didn't throw a fit about your trashy gift, so now you think you can walk all over me?" Daniel, who'd been making awkward small talk out of guilt, froze at my outburst before his face turned ugly. "What's your problem, Kandice? Yeah, I'm close with Wendy. But maybe you should look in the mirror first. Her family owns Zenith Pharmaceutical— She’s the princess of the Zenith Pharmaceutical and my ticket to the big leagues. What do you bring to the table? Temper tantrums?" Daniel yanked me out of the car at a red light. Passing trucks splashed dirty puddle water across my shoes. His words echoed in my head: Zenith Pharmaceutical Princess. So that was it. Someone else had claimed the title I'd once found embarrassingly pretentious. I watched his taillights disappear into traffic, feeling something cold and sharp ignite in my chest. I struggled home and dry-swallowed a handful of painkillers with the cake I ordered. After making my first call home in months, I finally collapsed into bed. Chapter 5 Even in my dreams, the cramping in my abdomen kept me tossing and sweating. Just when I'd finally found some peace, my front door exploded open. Someone grabbed my shoulders and shook me awake roughly. "Kandice, get up! What lies have you been spreading about me?" I blinked awake to Daniel’s furious face inches from mine. "Tell me the truth—did you post something calling Wendy a homewrecker?" “Look!” he shouted, shoving his phone at me. It was a post dripping with passive-aggressive digs about a certain woman’s morals. “How would I even know this person?” I snapped, propping myself up on the couch. “It had to be you! Wendy’s in tears over it!” He refused to listen, gripping my arm so hard it hurt. I jerked free. "Daniel, where's your brain? If someone posts about a homewrecker and she takes it personally, doesn't that prove she's guilty?" Looking at this raving man, I wondered how I had ever thought him gentle or kind. “You are a venomous woman,” he sneered. “You always tried to control me. Now you pull these petty stunts too!” Tears burned my eyes, but I stared him down. “Wendy was right about you. You're a manipulative psycho. You've always tried to control my life, and now you're playing these pathetic games behind my back." Danel towered over me as tears of pain and frustration rolled down my cheeks. "Then go be with your precious Wendy! Why are you still here? Oh right—you're terrified people will find out you're a cheater. Might damage that 'devoted boyfriend' brand you've been selling." I was done being his punching bag. Time to rip off his pretence. Daniel had no comeback. Humiliated and enraged, he raised his hand to strike me. I met his gaze without flinching. "Go ahead. Let's see if I press charges first or you actually follow through." I hadn't always been this passive. Life had just slowly worn down my fighting spirit. Daniel’s constant criticism had ground away my sharp edges over the years. His hand hovered in the air, face twisted with rage, like he might actually hit me. Then Wendy’s ringtone cut through the tension. The man who'd been ready to assault me instantly transformed, answering with honey in his voice. "Hey Wendy, what's wrong?" I didn't bother listening to their conversation, just checked whether my incision had reopened from his rough handling. From Daniel’s guilty glances in my direction, I could piece together their discussion. Sure enough, he put the call on speaker at the end. "Sorry for the confusion, Kandice! Turns out that person was just venting about some TV show drama." After hanging up, Daniel pocketed his phone sheepishly. He disappeared into the kitchen while I sat there laughing at the absurdity. When he returned, he carried a steaming bowl of soup. "Made this especially for you. Tell me what you think." He set the hot pumpkin bisque in front of me, looking like a golden retriever waiting for praise. I was too drained to call out his obvious lie. I simply pushed the bowl away. "Don't want it. Take it back." His eager smile crumbled. He yanked off his apron and hurled it to the floor. "What is wrong with you, Kandice? I'm trying to make things right and you're still acting like I owe you the world!" While he raged, I sank back into the couch cushions, almost entertained by his performance. "I'm allergic to pumpkin." Daniel stormed out, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the windows. He stormed out. In the past, I would have worried about where he was going or who he was with. Now, his absence felt like relief. For the next two weeks, Daniel didn’t contact me. Then one day, while I was getting a massage, he finally called. "Kandice, clean yourself up for tomorrow night's company gala. Don't say I never do anything nice for you. Consider it compensation for... you know. Just don't embarrass me in front of important people." His tone dripped condescension, like he was throwing scraps to a stray dog. I could hear Wendy’s giggle in the background. I stared at my phone after he hung up, a slow smile spreading across my face. "Marcus, I realised I was wrong all along. I need a favor from you…” I pulled an old phone from a shoebox under my bed, charged it up, and scrolled to my brother's contact. I used to despise my family's obsession with money and status. But after being burned this badly, I'd learned something important: cold, calculating relatives weren't the worst thing in the world. The worst thing was people who made you trust them, then stabbed you in the back. And backstabbers deserved everything that was coming to them.