The Genius Bride He Underestimated

Twenty-five weeks pregnant, Sloane Powell caught her husband cheating—right outside the hospital.

A tall, striking man in a black overcoat was shielding a soft, delicate-looking girl in his arms. The girl wore a white fox-fur coat. Her cheeks were rosy, her small face tucked into a fluffy wool scarf, her features pretty as a porcelain doll.

Sloane clenched her prenatal checkup slip so hard her fingers went white. The cold wind sliced across her face, but it was nothing compared to the stabbing ache in her chest.

Jaxson Cole saw her from far away. His expression stayed indifferent, not a trace of shame at being caught. He personally opened the car door for the girl, his demeanor gentle.

So the cold, untouchable man at the top of the world could be tender, too.

The girl seemed to notice Sloane. She paused, looked at Sloane with confusion first, then turned to Jaxson and asked, “Why is that old woman staring at you? Jaxson, do you know her?”

The wind howled in Sloane’s ears.

She didn’t know what else the girl said to Jaxson.

But from the shape of her mouth, Sloane could clearly make out two words.

“Old woman.”

That was supposed to be her.

Sloane’s lips curled into a bitter smile.

She was only twenty-four.

But she’d always been a little chubby, with an ordinary face. Wrapped in a black puffer jacket and a black knit hat, her late-pregnancy body was swollen and heavy. Add in the exhaustion on her face, and she really did look like some worn-out woman in her thirties or forties—how could she compare to a young, bright, beautiful girl?

Jaxson protected the girl as she got into the car.

Sloane stood frozen, watching the vehicle pull away.

She and Jaxson had married because of the baby. This forced marriage—to a man like Jaxson, heaven’s chosen—was a stain on his life. The child in her belly was the tool she’d used to corner him.

He hated her.

And she had loved him in secret for eight years.

Sloane knew she never deserved him. All she could do was study harder, keep pushing, take him as her life’s ideal, and chase after his footsteps.

Finally, she got what she wanted. She became his assistant. She could stand close to him.

But that night destroyed more than Jaxson.

It also tore apart every last shred of pride and dignity she’d ever had in front of him.

She would never forget the way he’d stared at her afterward—disgusted, like he’d touched something filthy that made him sick.

So, of course, only a beautiful girl like that deserved him.

A hot tear slid from the corner of her eye. Then her lower abdomen cramped hard. She hurriedly held her belly with one hand and braced the stone pillar beside her with the other.

A passing nurse saw her and rushed over, supporting her and taking her into an exam room.

It was just the emotional shock—she’d stirred the baby.

Once she calmed down…

Sloane left the hospital, driving alone back to Emerald Bay Mansion with a body and soul that felt wrung dry.

This was Jaxson’s villa.

Wren Cole, Jaxson’s grandmother, had arranged for experienced housekeepers from the Cole Estate to look after her.

At that moment, the two housekeepers assigned to her were sitting in the warm living room like they owned the place, eating good food and laughing together.

When they heard the sound, they turned toward the door.

Seeing Sloane back, one of them stood and walked over, asking, “How were the results?”

The attitude was arrogant, the tone dripping with contempt.

They were supposed to be taking care of her, but they looked more like they were here to watch her and act like the real masters.

Sloane only gave the housekeeper a cold glance and didn’t answer, heading straight for the stairs.

The housekeeper frowned in displeasure.

“I’m talking to you.”

Sloane still ignored her.

The housekeeper spat toward Sloane’s back. “Fat as a pig. You really think you’re some young mistress of the Cole family? Who are you trying to fool?”

Back in her bedroom, Sloane sat on the bed, hollow and lost.

Neither Jaxson nor the Cole family had ever accepted her.

Wren had been the one to make the decision and force her and Jaxson to get their marriage certificate.

But that was only because Noah Cole, Jaxson’s grandfather, had been critically ill. She’d shown up pregnant at just the right time, and they’d arranged the marriage to bring him good luck—two happy events at once.

Whether it was coincidence or whether the “good luck” was real, Noah’s condition gradually improved.

Only then did Wren’s attitude toward Sloane soften.

But everyone else in the Cole family still looked down on her.

Today’s hospital visit had been to confirm the baby’s gender.

A girl.

Mrs. Cole’s side had probably already gotten the hospital’s notice.

Just then, her phone vibrated.

Sloane pulled herself out of her thoughts.

She reached into her bag and pulled out her phone. When she saw the caller ID, she froze—it was her advisor.

She picked up.

“Professor Grant.”

“A spot just opened up for advanced study at Stanford—PhD track. You interested?”

At Leo Grant’s words, Sloane went still for a long moment.

When she didn’t answer, Leo continued, “If you’re not available—”

“I’m in.”

Sloane snapped back to the moment and answered with quiet certainty.

This time, Leo fell silent.

He knew better than anyone how hard Sloane had fought just to be worthy of standing beside Jaxson.

Now that she finally had what she wanted—marriage, a baby on the way—how could she possibly walk away?

He’d only mentioned the last slot on a whim, testing the waters.

“Professor Grant,” Sloane said.

Leo replied, “Come by my office tomorrow at ten.”

“Okay.”

He hung up without another word.

Sloane set the phone down and let out a long breath. For the first time in a while, it felt like the clouds had parted, letting a sliver of moonlight through.

She needed to wake up.

A man who didn’t love you—no matter what you gave him, no matter if you bore his child—would never stay. He wouldn’t even glance back.

Her phone rang again. This time it was Wren, asking her to come back to the Cole Estate. Sloane agreed. It was probably about the baby.

Now she finally had a bit of energy.

She went to the bathroom and took a long, hot shower.

Afterward, sitting at the vanity, Sloane studied herself in the mirror—puffy face, dark circles under her eyes, sunken eyelids, cheeks dotted with freckles.

Looking this worn down… who wouldn’t be repulsed?

How could someone like her ever deserve to stand next to Jaxson?

She put on makeup, slipped into a pink puffer jacket, and pulled on a white beanie. She looked much more presentable.

She’d planned to drive herself back to the main residence.

But the moment she stepped outside, Jaxson called. His voice came through flat and cold. “Come out.”

Sloane startled.

Wren must’ve told him to come back too.

She answered, “Okay.”

Outside the villa, his Rolls-Royce sat idling at the entrance.

Two hours ago, that same car had picked up another woman and dropped her off somewhere.

Sloane took a deep breath, walked over, opened the door, and got in.

The moment she sat down, she caught a faint scent—sweet and young. On the seat beside her sat a pink teddy bear, the kind of plushie a girl would adore.

When she lifted her gaze, she noticed a hair tie wrapped around the man’s wrist.

A quiet claim.

Jaxson must really like that girl.

Sloane swallowed the sour ache rising in her chest, sat up straight, and buckled her seatbelt.

The driver pulled away smoothly.

Sloane stared out the window, silent.

Before, every moment alone with him had been something to treasure. She’d inch closer, start conversations over and over, even if he looked down on her.

Because she’d foolishly convinced herself they were already husband and wife—that they had a child, that there was a long future ahead. If she became a good wife, a good mother… maybe one day Jaxson would finally turn and see her.

But in the end, it had all been lies she told herself.

The man didn’t care about her feelings. As always, he was detached, asking in a casual tone, “What’s the baby’s gender?”

Sloane answered, “A girl.”

Hearing that, nothing shifted in Jaxson’s sharp, handsome features. He only said flatly, “After the baby’s born, we’ll get divorced.”

The words landed.

Sloane’s fingers tightened.

It felt like a hand had clenched around her heart, making it hard to breathe.

This marriage was never meant to last. She’d always known. But hearing him say it—now, like this—still cut deeper than she’d expected.

She bit her lip and answered, “Okay.”

Jaxson turned his head to glance at her, as if surprised she’d agreed so easily.