The Miscarried Heir, A Secretary's Sin

Three years into our marriage, I finally got pregnant.

I was carrying a lunchbox, ready to head over to Tom's office and tell him the amazing news.

But his secretary, Brenda, treated me like some kind of homewrecker.

She dumped the lunch all over my head, ripped my clothes, and basically beat me until I miscarried.

"A nanny trying to seduce Mr. Thompson and get pregnant with his kid? Get real!"

"Today, I'm going to show you what happens to trash like you."

Then, all smug, she bragged to my Tom:

"Mr. Thompson, I took care of a gold digger trying to get to you. What's my reward?"

...

Lately, my appetite's been off, throwing up everything I ate, so I went to the doctor.

When the doctor told me I was pregnant, I burst into tears of joy.

Tom and I were high school sweethearts, got married and started trying for a baby after college, but no luck.

Tom always told me, "It'll happen when it's meant to be, maybe our baby is waiting for the right moment."

Well, the right moment was finally here.

"Mrs. Thompson, you're four months along already. Things look stable, but still, be careful, no roughhousing."

I smiled, gently touching my slightly rounded belly.

Four months already?

My period was always irregular, and I just thought I'd gained weight around the waist.

I got home, buzzing with excitement, cooking and packing a lunch for Tom, ready to spill the news in person.

Lunchbox in hand, I walked right into Thompson Corp.

As I was about to push open Tom's office door, a flashy woman stopped me.

"Who are you?"

Her tone was cold, sizing me up with narrowed eyes.

I held up the lunchbox, "I'm bringing lunch for Tom Thompson."

I don't like calling Tom "honey" or "sweetheart" in front of strangers.

She relaxed a little, a sneer creeping into her voice. "Oh, you're the nanny. I'm Brenda, Mr. Thompson's executive assistant."

"Just give me the lunch. You can go."

I shook my head. "I'm not the nanny, and I want to give it to Mr. Thompson myself. Please, just let me in."

Right then, the woman lost it, snatching the lunchbox from my hands.

"Who do you think you are? A nanny trying to get with Mr. Thompson?"

"And dressed like that? I'll teach you some manners."

She dragged me into the conference room, slammed the door, and slapped me across the face.

My cheek instantly swelled up, and I fell to the floor.

Before I could react, I got kicked in the head.

The baby!

Ignoring everything else, I curled up, protecting my stomach.

"Let's see what kind of grub you're bringing for Mr. Thompson."

Brenda opened the lunchbox, dumping it all over my head.

Three hours I'd spent making that rib soup. Now it was scalding, dripping through my hair and all over the floor.

My scalp was on fire.

But I couldn't move, afraid to hurt the baby.

"Oh, and fried chicken too."

"Looks like you're the chicken!"

The woman grabbed my chin, squeezing hard, forcing my mouth open.

"You wanna be a chicken so bad, then eat this chicken!"

She slammed the spicy, sauce-soaked chicken in my face.

My eyes and nose burned. I screamed in pain.

Brenda clapped her hands, all disgusted. "Gross, so greasy, almost ruined my manicure."

Then she looked down at me, all high and mighty. "You don't actually believe the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, do you?"

"Someone like you has no business liking Mr. Thompson."

I tried to explain, but the spice made me cough.

The chili got into my windpipe, and I couldn't speak.

Just then, someone knocked on the conference room door.

"Brenda, what's going on in there?"

I sighed with relief, thinking I was saved.

Brenda just smirked, opening the door without a worry.

"This woman was trying to seduce Mr. Thompson, so I'm teaching her a lesson."

The other secretaries looked at me with disgust:

"Mr. Thompson is too good. These bottom feeders always come crawling."

"But don't worry, Brenda, you've been with Mr. Thompson for five years. He only has eyes for you."

Brenda scoffed. "Of course."

Then she glared at me, sprawled on the floor. "Some people just need to learn their place."

I shakily pulled out my phone, wanting to call Tom.

Suddenly, Brenda's eyes narrowed, fixating on my phone.

The next second, she snatched it away.

Brenda's eyes burned, staring at the back of my phone.

"You're unbelievable, having the nerve to use matching phone cases with Mr. Thompson."

She smashed the phone on the floor, shattering it.

"Bitch!"

Brenda went off, grabbing my hair, slapping me over and over.

"I was going to let you off, but now I've changed my mind."

"Someone like you won't learn unless you get taught a lesson."

She tossed me on the floor like trash.

"Ladies, this woman's trying to get with Mr. Thompson. Should we strip her?"

The other secretaries were all for it, eager to join in.

I scrambled towards the door.

My hand screamed as Brenda stomped on my left hand.

The pain shot through me.

The other women grabbed me.

Brenda crouched down, looking at my face with twisted amusement. "You're pretty, but don't worry, I won't mess up your face."

"Because after we strip you, I'm taking pictures, posting them online."

"If your face is messed up, nobody will know you're a tramp. That won't do."

I was shaking, wanting to protect my stomach, but I couldn't move.

Brenda pulled out a pair of scissors, cutting up my dress.

I didn't dare move or scream, afraid she'd stab my stomach.

Time stretched out, full of fear.

Soon, my dress was in pieces, exposing my skin.

"Damn, no wonder you think you can get with Mr. Thompson. You've got the goods."

A crowd had gathered at the door.

Most of them just watched, but a couple of people tried to stop Brenda.

"Brenda, that's enough. If you hurt her, Mr. Thompson won't be happy."

Brenda didn't care, poking my forehead with her long nails. "She's a nanny trying to seduce Mr. Thompson. As Mr. Thompson's assistant, it's my job to deal with these messes, right?"

The person hesitated, then fell silent, not wanting to make an enemy of Brenda.

"Brenda, I think she's pregnant!"

A sharp-eyed secretary pointed at my stomach.

Brenda's eyes flashed. She walked up to me, staring at my stomach, like she wanted to see right through me.

"Heh."

Brenda laughed, but her eyes were filled with fury, like she was about to tear me apart.

"I tried to keep everyone away from him, but I didn't keep you away, did I?"

"You are carrying Mr. Thompson's kid? We'll see if you're alive to give birth."

She grabbed my hair, hitting my head against the wall.

"Die!"

"Anyone who tries to steal Mr. Thompson from me has to die."

Brenda stopped, throwing me on the floor.

Before I could breathe, my stomach was cramping.

Curling up didn't help.

My ears were ringing, everything blurry, warm blood running down my face, dripping on the floor.

As I was blacking out, I screamed:

"I'm Tom Thompson's wife!"

Silence dropped for a second.

Slap!

I got slapped by Brenda again.

"You're Tom Thompson's wife? Then who am I?"

"I've been with Tom for five years, known him for ten. I've never heard him say he was married."

"You're lying to me?"

I spit out blood, trying to explain. "We've been together since high school, I'm really his wife."

Hearing Tom's name, the other secretaries got worried, trying to stop Brenda.

Brenda waved them off.

"Relax, I know Tom better than anyone."

She looked me up and down.

My dress was in pieces, nothing special.

I didn't have any jewelry, designer bags.

The lunchbox bag was something you could find at any store.

Brenda laughed. "Look at this poor woman. She doesn't own anything fancy. How could she be Mrs. Thompson?"

I managed to catch my breath, but I felt a warm flow from below.

I felt a bad feeling.

"Blood, she's bleeding!"

One secretary backed away in a panic.

My heart was racing, I was so scared.

Weakly, I reached out, but I felt even more blood flowing from me.

Brenda glanced at me, scoffing. "So what if she's bleeding? Who cares?"

"She's just a mistress, carrying a bastard."

"The bastard deserves to be aborted."

Everyone went silent, not daring to say anything for me.

I put my hands on my belly, almost begging. "Please, call an ambulance."

"My baby, the baby"

But nobody helped me, everyone just watched, secretly excited to see me miscarry.

Brenda watched me for at least 10 minutes, I was about to bleed to death.

Then she grabbed her phone, dialed a number.

I thought she was calling an ambulance, but I heard Tom's voice.

"What is it?"

He didn't seem happy or sad.

"Mr. Thompson, another woman came to the office, trying to bring you lunch."

Brenda's voice was totally different with Tom, all sweet and girlish.

Tom sounded annoyed. "You're asking me about this? What am I paying you for?"

"Just deal with it."

He hung up.

Brenda smirked, looking at everyone. "See? Mr. Thompson told me to handle it."

I tried to scream, but I was too weak.

Brenda walked up to me.

She stepped on my face. "The pictures would be too violent."

"But now, I'm going to get your face."

"Without that face, I'll see how you seduce Mr. Thompson."

She pulled a utility knife out of a drawer, testing it on my face.

I despaired, but then Brenda's phone rang.

It was Tom.

Brenda answered.

"I need that file from the South City project, get it ready now."

"Yes, Mr. Thompson."

"I'll be there in about ten minutes"

Hearing that, Brenda frowned, saying in a concerned voice:

"Mr. Thompson, it's so hot today, you'll get all sweaty. I'll have Jenny send it over."

"It's okay, I'll be near the office anyway."

"Okay, Mr. Thompson. I'll have Jenny bring it to the garage."

"Mmm."

I was losing hope.

The others were praising Brenda.

Brenda looked like the future Mrs. Thompson. "That's right, true love is full support."

Suddenly she looked at me, snapping, "But I will kill anyone who tries to get with my man!"

My face was swollen, the thin dress didn't cover much, most of my skin exposed, my belly empty.

I knew I wasn't getting out of this.

I touched my belly, crying.

I stared at everyone, promising to remember their faces.

Especially Brenda.

"What are you looking at?"

Brenda slapped me again.

She asked: "I will let the air out of your chest, is that okay?"

She walked to me with the knife.

"Ah!"

The knife went in my chest, blood flowing.

I was about to faint, with no power.

Then, Tom came.

"Brenda, where's that file?"

Brenda jumped, dropping the knife.

She fixed her clothes, leaving the room.

"Mr. Thompson, you are so fast."

"The file."

"Here, coming."

Silence.

I was screaming but with no sound.

The other secratries are looking at me.

With the door shut, Tom couldn't see me.

I had to do something to let him know.

I grabbed a chair, to push it down.

But I was too weak.

A secretary looked at the door, relaxed.

She pulled out the knife from my chest.

With a hand covering my mouth, she put my hand on the floor.

I couldn't shout.

I hated it.

Tom was near, but couldn't see me.

I hated that.

"Mr. Thompson, you need the file."

"Mmm."

"I'll go with you, okay?"

"No."

The sound faded away.

Then, Tom asked: "Where's the other woman?"

Brenda: "I handled it."

Tom: "Ok, it's ok if she leaves."

Tom was about to leave.

I was shouting in my head.

Suddenly, Tom stepped.

"Where's the lunchbox on the floor?"

Tom asked with a unstable sound.