She didn’t realize that kindness had an expiration date.

That night, at the long dining table inside the Montemayor family estate, Carla suddenly felt dizzy from morning sickness. Her hand slipped, and a wine glass shattered on the floor.

Miguel stood up instantly.

“Are you stupid?” he yelled.

Before anyone could react, he struck her across the face.

Carla collapsed, instinctively curling around her belly to protect her unborn child. Blood trickled from her lip.

The room erupted—not in concern, but laughter.

Doña Imelda, Miguel’s mother, smirked as she lifted her glass. “That’s what happens when you marry someone without refinement. At least she’s pretty. Otherwise, we’d have sent her back where she came from.”

Governor Arturo, Miguel’s father, waved dismissively. “Leave her there. Let her learn. A wife shouldn’t be fragile.”

Carla looked up at Miguel through tears, silently begging for mercy.

He spat near her feet. “Clean it up. You’re humiliating this family.”

Slowly, Carla reached into her pocket and took out her phone.

Miguel sneered. “Who are you texting? Your poor parents? Go ahead. What can nobodies do to us?”

Carla didn’t answer.