📖 CHAPTER 1: THE BREAKING POINT IN THE DELIVERY ROOM

The delivery room was supposed to be a place of life.

But for her, it felt like a room where everything was ending.

The white fluorescent lights above her head buzzed faintly, casting a cold glow over her sweat-soaked face. Her hands gripped the metal rails of the hospital bed so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. Every contraction felt like her body was splitting apart from the inside.

She gasped, tears slipping down her temples.

“Breathe,” a nurse said softly, adjusting the monitor. “You’re almost there. Just a little more.”

But the words barely reached her.

Because her eyes were locked on the man standing beside the bed.

Her husband.

He wasn’t holding her hand.

He wasn’t comforting her.

He wasn’t even looking at her like she was human.

Instead, he was angry.

Impatient.

His jaw clenched tightly as he checked his watch again, as if her pain was wasting his time.

“You’re making this take too long,” he said coldly.

She trembled.

“I… I can’t control it…”

Another contraction hit her like a wave of fire. She cried out, her body arching involuntarily.

And that was when something inside him snapped.

“Enough,” he muttered.

The nurse turned. “Sir, please—this is a delivery room. You need to stay calm.”

But he didn’t listen.

He leaned closer to the bed.

His shadow fell over her face.

And then—

He raised his fist.

The room froze.

The machines kept beeping, but everything else seemed to disappear. Even the nurses went silent for a split second, unable to process what they were seeing.

Her breath stopped.

No one moved.

Her mind couldn’t understand it at first.

Not here.

Not now.

But the fear in his eyes wasn’t hesitation.

It was intention.

Her lips trembled.

“Don’t…” she whispered weakly.

Tears streamed down her face as she closed her eyes, bracing for impact.

Her body, already broken by pain, now prepared for something far worse.

A strike that never should have existed in a place meant for life.

Seconds stretched like hours.

And then—

BANG!

The doors of the delivery room exploded open.

A sharp crash echoed through the entire corridor.

Every head snapped toward the entrance.

A man stood there.

Older.

His presence heavy, like a storm had entered the room with him.

He didn’t hesitate.

He didn’t ask questions.

He saw the raised fist—and in a single movement, he crossed the room.

Before the husband could even react, his arm was twisted mid-air, and his body was thrown backward with a force that sent him crashing into a medical cart.

Metal clattered.

Machines beeped wildly.

Nurses screamed.

“Call security!” someone shouted.

But the older man wasn’t looking at any of them.

He was looking at her.

The pregnant woman.

Still trembling.

Still crying.

Still waiting for pain that never came.

He stepped closer slowly, as if afraid she might disappear.

And then he did something that made the entire room fall into silence again.