Broken Oath: I Left, He Regretted-Chapter 164: He Won’t Allow Her to Bear His Child

Chapter 164: Chapter 164: He Won’t Allow Her to Bear His Child

Pushing open the private room door, Julian Sinclair had already regained his usual cold and stern demeanor, sitting on the sofa.

But in the wastebasket, there was clearly a lot of used tissues.

Looking more closely, the flush on his neck and cheeks hadn’t fully faded, and the collar of his shirt was a bit rumpled. Only his eyes remained cold as ice.

They were all men—instantly, both understood, exchanging a loaded, meaningful glance.

Mason Hawthorne leaned forward, waggling his eyebrows playfully: "Julian, how far did you get with Zoe just now?"

Julian Sinclair didn’t respond, his gaze landing on the drugged glass of liquor on the table. Face still icy, he turned to the two: "Who did this?"

Ethan Xavier immediately took a step back, hurriedly distancing himself: "Julian, it’s nothing to do with me! Even if you gave me ten times more courage, I wouldn’t dare tamper with your drink!"

Mason rubbed his nose, sneaking a guilty glance at Julian, and muttered a low explanation: "I was just trying to help you out! Seeing you drag things out with Zoe, I figured I’d help speed things up for you."

Julian’s gaze stayed locked on that glass, his voice flat and without emotion: "Since you prepared it, you can drink it for me."

Ethan Xavier snickered gleefully on the side.

Mason’s face drained of color. "No, no, Julian—this isn’t necessary, right? I was just trying to help, and this is how you repay me?"

But Julian didn’t say another word, simply stared straight at him, so cold it sent chills down Mason’s spine.

Mason’s heart raced—he knew Julian Sinclair’s temper all too well.

If he didn’t drink that glass, Julian really might just snap.

In the end, under Julian’s intimidating glare, Mason gritted his teeth, picked up the glass, and knocked it back in one gulp.

Seeing Mason finish, Julian finally stood up, expressionless, and walked out of the private room.

As soon as Julian left, Ethan Xavier couldn’t help bursting into laughter: "Want me to call a girl for you, save the day?"

"Screw off!"

Mason cursed irritably, immediately whipping out his phone and quickly dialing Raina Ainsworth’s number.

As soon as the call connected, he said, "Come to The Gilded Lily right now. Don’t waste time!"

...

Inside The Gilded Lily’s private room, the air was suffocatingly hot.

Raina entered, and found Mason slumped on the sofa, his face flushed, breathing heavily.

She’d barely started to ask what was wrong before Mason yanked her into his arms, burning palms roaming forcibly up her back and ripping at her clothes.

Raina froze, her heart pounding in terror.

Usually, when Mason got close to her, she always gave in—she knew all too well that her worth to him was just that. She had no real right to resist.

But today was different.

The hospital report from this afternoon was still tucked in her purse.

She was six weeks pregnant—it was their baby.

"Mason, please, don’t do this, okay?" Raina pushed back with all her strength, her voice trembling with barely hidden fear.

But Mason misunderstood, thinking she was playing hard to get. His eyes went cold in an instant.

He bit her pale neck roughly in punishment, let out a scoff: "What, a few days and you’re already learning Zoe’s little game of wanting to refuse but actually inviting?"

Raina’s heart clenched, bitter anguish washing over her.

Eyes red, she said: "How could I compare to Zoe? At least Attorney Sinclair truly cares about her, he’s not just using her for fun."

That made Mason stop for a second. He fought against his physical agony, staring at Raina, his tone dark and dangerous: "What did you just say?"

He hated when Raina mentioned Zoe with that envy in her voice.

Clearly, she wanted too much—she’d crossed the line!

Raina trembled under his gaze, choking up as she pleaded: "I really can’t today... Mason, please, I’m begging you, okay?"

She didn’t dare mention the pregnancy.

She knew Mason too well—with his cynical attitude, he’d never let her keep the baby.

He might even personally take her for an abortion. He’d made it clear before—he would never allow a bastard to exist.

But unfortunately, none of her resistance or begging ever mattered to Mason.

Her clothes were torn away, piece by piece, scattered on the cold floor—just like her life, completely at his mercy, unable to control anything herself.

The drug’s effect had completely clouded Mason’s mind, making his movements wild and out of control.

Their frenzy lasted until dawn; only then was Mason finally satisfied, letting go exhausted.

He held the limp Raina in his arms, carrying her to The Gilded Lily’s private suite.

Seeing her shaking, tear-stained face in his arms, Mason unexpectedly felt a trace of pity in his heart.

He lowered his head, kissed the wetness from her eyes, his tone lazy and careless: "What are you crying for? Didn’t you used to enjoy it?"

Raina pressed her lips tight, turning silently away.

Mason couldn’t be bothered to coax her any further; he patted her shoulder indifferently: "I’m too tired tonight—go clean yourself up in the bathroom."

Without another word, he closed his eyes.

Sharp stabbing pain curled through Raina’s lower belly.

Her heart lurched; gritting her teeth, she rushed into the bathroom.

Under the running water, she was horrified to find bright red blood trickling from her.

In that moment, Raina’s heart sank, her hands and feet gone cold as if plunged into ice.

Trembling, she quickly cleaned herself, threw on her clothes haphazardly, and stumbled out of the suite, racing desperately toward the hospital.

...

Meanwhile—

The cab pulled up slowly beneath my apartment building.

I hurried upstairs and found Sharon already brought back ahead of time.

Now, she was sitting on the couch watching cartoons with Doris.

Seeing me come in, she flew into my arms like a happy bird: "Auntie Ellison, I missed you so much!"

Then she grabbed her little backpack, dug out a super cute keychain and handed it to me: "I bought this for you when I went to the amusement park with Daddy."

Doris showed me hers too, waving it: "Sharon bought one for me too!"

I knelt down, gathering Sharon’s soft little body into my arms, speaking gently: "Thank you, Sharon. Auntie loves it."

Doris said, "Mom, Uncle Hawthorne bought Lego for Sharon too. Come to the room and play with us! We’ve been waiting for you to get home!"

I was a bit worn out, so I told them, "Can Mommy play with you guys tomorrow? Today... I’m just too tired."

Both kids nodded obediently.

I went to my own room, leaned against the door, taking several deep breaths to calm my racing heart.

Then I rushed to the bathroom and scrubbed my hands again and again.

I’d already washed them at the club, but the images from earlier kept flooding back—my palms were still burning even now.

I might not be some naive girl anymore, but still—for the first time, I felt I’d gotten this close to Julian Sinclair.

So close, I almost became his woman.

...

Late at night—

I’d only just turned off the lights when my phone on the bedside table suddenly rang.

In the dark, I grabbed the phone and hit answer.

"Hello, is this Mrs. Xavier?"

The nurse’s voice was professionally calm, but my drowsiness vanished instantly: "President Xavier was rushed to the hospital with a gastric hemorrhage and needs emergency surgery now. The situation is critical—please come to City Central Hospital’s ER immediately to sign the consent!"

My heart sank, and my first instinct was: Is this another of Timothy Xavier’s schemes?

Maybe he wanted to force me to compromise, or put on a pitiful act?

I tamped down the tide of emotion, and replied coldly: "I’ll give you his mother’s number. You can contact her."

"We tried, but no one’s answering." The nurse urged: "Right now, you’re the only person we can reach. You’re his legal spouse and direct family. We can’t wait—please come sign immediately!"

The busy tone came through on the phone, and my hand shook slightly.

After struggling for a moment, I threw off the covers, grabbed my coat, and hurried out the door.

No matter how he’s hurt me, when a life is at stake, I just can’t leave him for dead.

On the way to City Central Hospital, city lights flashed by and my mind spun.

Soon, I arrived at the hospital.

The sharp smell of disinfectant hit me; as I reached the ER, I saw Jack Sullivan anxiously pacing outside the operating room.

He spotted me right away, latching on like a drowning man: "Ma’am..."

I glared at him coldly: "Call me Zoe Ellison."

Jack Sullivan froze awkwardly, then hastily corrected himself: "Miss Ellison, sorry. I called Mrs. Xavier countless times and no one picked up—the housekeeper said she left The Xavier Manor early this morning and hasn’t been reachable."

He hesitated a moment, sounding even more desperate: "We really have no choice, only you can sign for President Xavier. I’m not trying to bother you, I swear."

I took a deep breath, tamped down everything roiling inside, and turned to the nurse: "Give me the pen."

I signed without hesitation.

The nurse rushed the signed consent straight into the operating room.

I frowned at Jack Sullivan, asking, "How did he even drink himself to gastric bleeding?"

Timothy Xavier is usually rational—he takes care of himself, barely touches alcohol or cigarettes.

I couldn’t believe he’d drink himself into this mess.

Jack sighed, looking helpless: "Miss Ellison, you may not know—President Xavier went traveling, and Ethan Xavier took advantage at the company. Tonight, President Xavier went to The Gilded Lily to talk business, and ended up drinking way too much."

Suddenly, I recalled some photos I’d seen online recently.

All the scenery Timothy Xavier posted were places we’d shared before.

A wave of sourness welled up—not out of softness, but because I just felt this man was pitiful and ridiculous.

Why does he always fail to do what he’s supposed to do at the right time?

Jack hesitated, lowering his voice: "Also... President Xavier saw you and Mr. Sinclair together at the club tonight..."

I froze where I stood.

The images from the private room flooded uncontrollably: me awkwardly helping Julian Sinclair cope with the drug, him pinning me down and teasing me...

Thinking of all that, my face burned, and panic made it hard to breathe.

I forced myself to stay calm, feigning composure and not answering.

Jack got the hint and shut up—the corridor lapsed into silence again.

I stared at the tightly closed operating room door, feeling all sorts of complicated emotions.

I even silently prayed: if Timothy Xavier recovers, maybe he could finally figure things out and divorce me.

Set himself free—and set me free.

...

The operation dragged on for ages.

It was nearly dawn when it finally finished.

The doctor told me: "Surgery went well—the patient’s out of immediate danger, but we need to watch him closely for postoperative complications."

I finally relaxed after a night on edge, exhaustion and headache flooding over me.

When I saw Timothy Xavier being wheeled out, his face was pale as paper and his eyes closed—no trace of the old spirited man, just pure frailty.

I asked Jack: "Did you reach his mother yet?"

Jack looked troubled: "Still no—I’ve called nonstop, but the phone’s off. No idea where she is."

He went on, "Ma’am, why don’t you get some rest? I’ll keep watch here."

But the nurse intervened directly: "Successful surgery doesn’t solve everything. The next 48 hours are high-risk for complications, and family consent might be needed at any time. As his spouse, Mrs. Xavier must stay at the hospital in case of emergencies."

I felt a wave of frustration.

The marriage was already dead in every way, but when it came to law and responsibility, I was still trapped.

Jack could only say: "Miss Ellison, as soon as I reach Mrs. Xavier, I’ll get her to take over for you."

No real reason to refuse at this point.

I nodded and helped transfer Timothy Xavier to the VIP ward.

Around ten in the morning, he finally opened his eyes.

When he realized I was there, his lashes fluttered, eyes settling on me, a hint of surprise on his pale, cool face.

Soon, his lips pressed tight—he said nothing.

Just then, my phone rang suddenly; caller ID: "Ethan Xavier."

Thinking about how at odds the brothers were now, I took the call outside, closing the door behind me.

"Zoe, did Timothy go looking for you?" Ethan Xavier sounded nervous on the line. "He didn’t show up for work today, and I can’t reach him."

I frowned, puzzled: "Why are you looking for him?"

Ethan’s voice dropped, clearly guilty: "Yesterday, outside your room at the club, I pushed Mason to say some things just to wind him up. I... I’m worried Timothy might do something stupid. If he hasn’t come to see you, where else would he go?"

My heart twisted.

Even with all the resentment I felt for Timothy, I couldn’t help snapping: "Do you two just have to fight to the death? He drank himself into gastric bleeding last night and is just out of surgery."

"What?" Ethan’s voice shot up, shocked, asking: "Is he okay now?"

"The doctor says he’s out of immediate danger." My tone was ice-cold; I didn’t say more.

There was a moment’s silence on the other end, then the line went dead.

After hanging up, I breathed deeply and went back into the ward.

The doctor happened to come in to check Timothy Xavier.

He lay there, staring at the ceiling and not saying a word, a suffocating air around him, as if this blow had stripped him of all fight.

The doctor finished his instructions and left.

The room fell silent again.

After a long while, Timothy finally spoke, his voice hoarse as if scraped raw: "Yesterday you all ruined my celebration. Proud of yourselves? You and Julian Sinclair... had fun too, didn’t you?"

I felt a faint heaviness in my chest.

From his perspective, yesterday was probably the first time Ethan Xavier truly stomped on him—public disgrace.

At his lowest moment, he saw me with his sworn enemies—no wonder he drank like that.

I didn’t get angry, just watched him calmly as I explained: "Believe me or not, I wasn’t celebrating with them yesterday. Mason asked me to pick up Sharon, that’s the only reason I was there."

Having said all that, I stopped. Timothy was barely awake from surgery, too weak to argue.

Peace returned, broken only by the monitors chiming in the room.

At that moment, footsteps sounded outside—before anyone arrived, I heard Sophia Kendall’s voice: "Son, where’s my son? Timothy! Mom’s late, I’m sorry!"

She hurried in, Jack Sullivan following behind.

She must’ve already learned about the surgery en route.

Sophia was beside herself with worry, fussing over Timothy at his bedside.

I saw she’d arrived, so I quietly got up, finally able to pass the baton.

But as soon as I left Timothy’s room, barely a few steps down the hall, Sophia Kendall called out behind me.

"Zoe."

I stopped in surprise.

In my memory, Sophia had never called me so warmly.

She used to spit out "Zoe Ellison" like an epithet, as if I were her mortal enemy.

I turned, frowning at her, and realized she looked nothing like before.

She was always decked out, lavish from head to toe, dripping with jewelry and superiority.

But now, her back was hunched and she wouldn’t meet my eyes—a startled bird, the jewelry gone, her aura replaced by timidity and insecurity.

"Ms. Kendall, what do you want?"

I figured she’d ask about Timothy’s condition, so I volunteered: "The doctor said no more drinking, and he needs proper rest. If you have other questions, ask the doctor."

I was about to leave.

But Sophia rushed over to block me: "Zoe, I... I just have a few words, it won’t take much of your time."

I tried to be patient, keeping my tone flat: "Then make it quick. I’ve got a stack of work waiting."

Sophia cleared her throat, trying to stand up straighter, clearly attempting to recover her old posture, then started slowly: "These days, Timothy’s been so lovesick over you, lost his appetite, even threatened to cut ties with me. I’ve reflected—yes, I was too harsh to you before. Now, I get it; children have their own lives. I’ve decided to help Timothy fulfill his wish and support you two being together."

I stared at her, dumbfounded.

What happened to Sophia Kendall—how could she say something like that?

She took my shock for excitement, and continued: "But there’s a condition: Help me kick Serena Sawyer out. Find a way to make sure she never speaks again."

"Never speaks again?" I caught the phrase instantly.

Sophia’s gaze hardened, locking on me: "Yes. I don’t care how—it’s only if Serena disappears that you can come back to Timothy. Then I’ll publicly accept you as my daughter-in-law, never opposing you again."

I couldn’t hold back a laugh, my voice thick with sarcasm: "Ms. Kendall, are you serious? You think I’m desperate enough to be your daughter-in-law? You’re really giving yourself too much credit!"

Sophia bristled, tone warning: "Are you really going to try marrying Julian Sinclair? Let me tell you: the Sinclair Family will never allow you two! To them, you and Julian are a stain. Only if you stay with Timothy can you live like a queen, and Doris will have the best advantages too."

"No need," I cut her off, eyes firm, "Even if I stay single forever, I won’t touch your Xavier Family again."

With that, I shot her a cold smile and turned to leave.

Unexpectedly, I came face-to-face with Katherine Sheldon.

She wore a simple long dress—plain-looking, but it was fine Xiangyun silk from a luxury brand, worth a small fortune.

She was flanked by two tall bodyguards.

I was a little surprised, but had no intention of getting involved.

The Xavier mess was something I’d begun to steer clear of ages ago.

Then I remembered my purse was still in Timothy’s room.

I paused a short distance away, waiting for Katherine Sheldon to leave so I could go get it.

Sophia spotted Katherine and instantly forgot me, shrieking like a mad hen: "You bitch, what are you doing here? How did you know my son is in the hospital? Are you here to gloat?"

Her chest heaved, eyes full of venom—if Katherine hadn’t brought bodyguards, Sophia would’ve lunged for her already.

Katherine’s reply was still soft, tinged with helplessness: "Sophia, Mr. Xavier found out Timothy was hospitalized and sent me to check on him. Please don’t make this hard for me; I’ll just take a look at Timothy and leave, okay?"

"No way! Get lost!" Sophia snapped, her voice shrill and mean.

Katherine sighed gently: "If you’re so against me, then I won’t go in. But I came to apologize to Timothy—if you’d pass the message."

Sophia paused, frowning: "Apologize for what?"

"At today’s shareholder meeting, Timothy was officially dismissed; Ethan will be taking his place."

Katherine’s voice was mild, but every word stabbed Sophia’s heart: "Ethan’s reckless—didn’t expect him to go this far. I apologize to Timothy on his behalf. Even with Ethan as president, I’ll make sure he treats Timothy as an older brother, with respect. Please help persuade Timothy not to take it too hard."