Page 1 of My bodyguard husband beat me into a miscarriage

I was the real daughter the Foster family had found.

But this family never truly accepted me. Their hearts always favored my sister Malia, who had stolen everything from me.

Throughout college, she repeatedly had others humiliate me.

Someone would sneer as they shoved my head into a toilet, men's hands tearing at my clothes.

Just when I despaired, Spencer appeared.

Just like years ago at the orphanage, he shielded me and drove everyone away.

I saw him as my salvation, believing there was still one person in this world who truly loved me. So I built a family with him despite his poverty.

When Liam was born and diagnosed with leukemia, Spencer never complained, just silently took on more work, running around day and night.

Life was hard but happy, until the day Titus made him Malia's bodyguard.

The day he was to start protecting Malia, I grabbed his arm, my face pale: "Don't go, Spencer. I can dance to earn money. Please don't become Malia's bodyguard. You know what she's like..."

He clenched his fists, his eyes conflicted, finally interrupting me softly: "Harley, stop dwelling on the past. Malia has changed. Besides, this job pays wellwith the money, we can treat Liam's illness."

Looking at frail Liam in his hospital bed, I let go of his arm.

I watched helplessly as the one person who had ever loved me turned to protect Malia, who had stolen my family and hurt me.

Even worse, to protect Malia, he actually hurt me.

The first time, because I didn't smile when I saw Malia, she cried pitifully and asked if I still resented her for taking my parents away.

Titus immediately ordered Spencer to tear my mouth.

The second time, at a dance performance when someone publicly praised my dancing, Titus commanded Spencer to sever my Achilles tendons.

The ninety-sixth time, Malia accidentally shattered my mother's urn, and the fragments cut her hand.

Titus made Spencer take a knife and personally carve one hundred wounds into my body.

Now, this was the ninety-seventh time.

My mother was the only person in this world who was ever kind to me. The day her urn shattered, I wanted to take her away from this house, but I happened to run into Malia.

She caressed her swollen belly and whispered in my ear: "The child in my womb isn't Mr. Gibson's at allit's Spencer's. Everything you want will belong to me."

I stared at her belly, eyes widening, then looked at Spencer standing nearby with reddened eyes.

Before I could speak, Malia suddenly screamed.

Spencer instantly rushed forward, forcefully shoving me aside to hold her tightly in his arms.

I stumbled toward the staircase, and Malia seized the moment to push me.

As I fell, I saw her lips silently mouth: "Who do you think he'll believeme or you?"