Jonathan had no intention of missing that chance. He had already hurt Anna so much, but still wanted her back. This child couldn't be allowed to live; its birth would end any hope for him and Anna. He hardened his heart, ordering his bodyguards to drag Isabella to the hospital.

Isabella struggled and resisted, but the bodyguards overpowered her, leaving her on the cold operating table. The anesthetic was administered, and she lost consciousness. When she awoke, her stomach was empty; the child was gone. The abdominal pain was excruciating, even the slightest movement agonizing. The child was truly gone.

Isabella lay in despair, still under the bodyguards' watch, waiting to apologize to Anna. Soon after, Jonathan saw Isabella's online apology video. He smirked, but couldn't bring himself to laugh. He still hadn't found Anna; she seemed to have vanished without a trace, as if she never existed. If not for her online presence, he might have believed she was a dream.

"If only I hadn't seen Isabella the day Anna left… maybe things would have turned out differently," he muttered. "If only I had stayed true to myself…"

Jonathan sat in a private bar room, frustrated, drinking bottle after bottle. He hadn't slept properly in ages. The scent of Anna, once so pervasive in their home, was fading, making the house unbearable. Despite the liquor, he wasn't drunk; he was soberly aware that she was gone.

"Heh," Jonathan laughed bitterly, holding the bottle. "Anna, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let you smell the alcohol on me. Come back, will you scold me? Please, if you appear, I won't drink anymore."

He behaved like a spoiled child. Hearing of his presence, friends sent in young, beautiful women.

"Girls, comfort President Jonathan. You'll receive glory and wealth!" a man in a wine-red shirt whispered.

They approached, each sitting closer. A woman reached for Jonathan, her fingers like serpents, attempting to unbutton his clothes. His face darkened, and he smashed a wine bottle over her head. Blood flowed; she screamed, but he kicked her away.

"Who gave you the guts, disgusting thing? Get out!"

The women fled. It was better to leave than risk injury for nothing.

Jonathan's brow furrowed. He rubbed his forehead and opened another bottle, drinking directly from it. His friends exchanged glances, sighing.