Page 1 of My husband bet I’d miscarry and made 1 billion

Three years after our marriage, I got pregnant.

My gambling-addicted husband Roman Patel was so excited he nearly went insane, actually setting up betting pools across the entire city on the gender of the baby in my womb.

Later, I miscarried. Heavy bleeding, and we couldn't save the child.

But Roman was thrilled like a madman, rushing off to announce the "good news" first thing. He said since the baby was gone, the betting result would be "neither boy nor girl," and he won all the stakes.

With that huge sum, he bought the biggest hospital in the city.

Roman walked over to my hospital bed, his eyes bloodshot as he told me, "Valentina, this hospital is ours now." Valentina Brooks is my name.

He also said, "The doctors here will definitely get you pregnant again as fast as possible. Then I can set up another betting pool."

Thinking of our family's curse that "the first child must die," I smiled.

I said, "Alright, Roman. This time we should definitely bet big."

Roman's eyes were bloodshotnot from grief, but from the excitement of running betting operations for days on end.

He leaned down close to me, his heavy cologne mixed with the hospital's cold disinfectant smell making me nauseous.

Roman said, "Valentina, look, all of this is ours now."

He spread his arms wide, smugly surveying the various medical equipment filling the room.

He continued, "This equipment is all top-of-the-line globally. The specialists are also ones I hired from abroad at great expense."

Roman lowered his voice, his breath hitting my ear.

He said, "They have only one jobto restore your health as quickly as possible so you can give me another child."

Roman paused for a moment, reaching out to stroke my belly.

He said, "Valentina, let's go big this time. We'll bet on boy or girl, bet on twins or fraternal twins. How about it?"

Looking at his face twisted with excitement, I smiled obediently.

I said, "Okay, I'll listen to whatever you say."

My compliance clearly pleased Roman.

He reached out and pinched my cheek, his fingertips pressing hard, as if evaluating the quality of merchandise.

He said, "You're so good."

Just then, the hospital room door was suddenly pushed open. Roman's mother Layla Patel rushed in carrying a large thermos container.

Upon entering, she first glared at me, then ran over to Roman with a smile.

She said, "Roman, I made you soup. You've gotten so thin lately from developing your business."

Layla set the thermos down heavily on the bedside table, splashing a few drops of soup.

Roman didn't even look, waving his hand impatiently.

He said, "I've told you before, bring these things for Valentina. If her health isn't good, how can my plans proceed?"

The smile on Layla's face froze for a moment, then quickly returned.

She said, "My memory is so bad. Of course it's for Valentina."

Layla efficiently ladled out a bowl of medicinal soup and held it in front of me.

She said with a cold smile, "Valentina, drink this quickly. As long as you drink it, the next pregnancy will definitely give me a boy I'll love."

The medicinal soup was very dark, its fishy smell making me nauseous.

I didn't take it.

Layla's expression immediately darkened: "What? Do you still think you're the precious daughter of the Brooks family? If it weren't for you, would my grandson be gone? Now I'm asking you to drink a bowl of soup, and you're giving me attitude?"

Roman also frowned: "Valentina, my mom means well."

I looked up and smiled gently at them both.

I said, "Roman, Layla, it's not that I won't drink it. It's just that this hospital is ours now, so we should trust science, right? The doctor just instructed that my diet should be light and I can't drink random things. What if it conflicts with the doctor's treatment and delays your important business?"

Roman's expression softened somewhat. He nodded slightly and said to Layla, "Mom, Valentina's right."

He took the medicinal soup and continued, "Don't make these unscientific things anymore. I didn't spend big money buying this place to listen to quack remedies."

He walked to the window and poured that bowl of dark soup into the orchid plant Layla had brought earlier.

Layla's face looked terrible. She stared at me, her lips trembling, but couldn't say a word.

I lowered my head, hiding all my thoughts.