Chapter 200

Sarah's POV

My fingertips hovered over the screen for a moment beforeI finally dialed Philip's number. The red wine in my glass caught the light, glimmering softly as I took a sip and waited for the call to connect.

Ring.Ring. Ring.

After several rings, Philip's voice came through-hoarse and slurred. I immediately understood he was drunk again. What a weak man,only knowing how to numb himself with alcohol.

"Do you need something?" he asked, his tone as cold as if he were speaking to a stranger.

There was a time when this voice would have been elated to receive my call, but now it was so distant. A cold laugh rose within me, but I deliberately softened my voice. "Of course I do. I heard you haven't been doing well lately. Plus, you're the father of the child I'm carrying, so I wanted to check how you're doing. Are you alright?"

My finger casually traced the rim of my wine glass. This act of "concern"was a performance I'd mastered to perfection. In reality, I couldn't care less whether he lived or died-I only cared about his assets and securing my future.

"Actually, not great," his voice suddenly filled with genuine emotion. "I can't stop thinking about Annie. Since the divorce, I've realized how much I love her. I shouldn't have betrayed her, shouldn't have..." I rolled my eyes, my gaze falling on a painting hanging on the wall.It was a strange abstract piece with yellow and purple swirls intertwining,creating an unsettling visual. I started wondering why I'd bought such an ugly painting-probably recommended by some interior designer who thought they had artistic taste.

Philip continued rambling on the other end about how perfect Annie was,while I became completely absorbed in studying the painting's composition.Honestly, even a cat walking across a canvas would be more interesting than Philip's pathetic lamentations of regret. His voice became nothing more than background noise in my ear, like elevator music that lulls you to sleep.

I even began to imagine what it would be like to take down that painting and smash it over Philip's head-perhaps it might wake him up.

"Have you been drinking?" I forced mnyself to pull my attention away from the ugly painting, feigning concern.

"Just a little," Philip paused, his voice low. "Annie always said I become a different person when I'm drunk. She really knew me, and yet I..."

God, here we go again. I stifled a yawn, tapping my fingertips against the edge of my wine glass, counting the car lights passing by outside my window. One, two, three... far more interesting than listening to Philip go on about his ex-wife.

"I've told you before, I don't like men who drink," I cut him off abruptly,deliberately adding a whining quality to my voice. I needed to steer the conversation away from Annie, or this call would be pointless.

What would Philip say to placate me? Or would he offer a half-hearted apology? I waited, but what I heard instead sent a jolt through me. What does it matter to you? Sarah Johnson, I'm willing to support you only because you're the mother of my child, not because I love you."

His words hit me like a slap in the face, catching me off guard. Though I'd always known he didn't love me, hearing him say it aloud still made my stomach twist uncomfortably. I set down my wine glass and instinctively touched my belly. Damn it, this child isn't even his!

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. I needed to maintain control of the situation, needed him to continue taking responsibility for me and this child.

"Do you really not love me at all anymore?" I deliberately made my voice tremble, even squeezing out a tear that slid down my cheek. This tear was for my owvn benefit-a performance I could admire.

Silence fell on the other end. I could imagine Philip's expression-brows furrowed, wrestling with inner conflict. He was always like this, wanting to appear resolute but afraid of hurting others. Such a weak man.

"I might still consider you a friend, but as for romantic feelings between us,there's absolutely nothing left."

Friend? I laughed wildly inside. The word meant nothing to me. I never believed in pure friendship between men and women-that was just an excuse for the weak.

"But this way..." my voice nearly choked, though the corners of my mouth turned up slightly, "makes me feel so insecure. You're already neglecting Brian because you're angry. What if one day, you decide to abandon me and our baby too?"

"What would happen to us then?" I continued applying pressure, filling my voice with helplessness. "Would I have to find another man to support us? Philip, I want my child to grow up in a stable environment."

Silence on the other end.

"I understand, of course," he finally answered after a long pause,resignation in his tone. "But Sarah. I've been drinking, and my mind is numb right now. Let's discuss this properly when I'm sober."

"Okay," I responded softly, still sounding hurt, but inwardly celebrating.The first step had succeeded!

Hanging up, I finished the wine in one gulp, savoring it while contemplating tonight's gains. Through this conversation,I'd confirmed several important things: Philip had completely severed ties with Brian;he had no feelings left for me; but he still felt responsible for "his child."

All good news, but there remained one critical issue to resolve: if Philip eventually discovers this child isn't his, he'll certainly find another woman to bear his true offspring. And to ensure Philip remains forever dependent on the "counterfeit" child in my womb, there's only one solution-render him completely incapable of fathering children.

This thought excited me immensely, a strange power surging from my spine straight to my brain. My heart raced, my cheeks flushed, like a hunter smelling blood duringtheir first kill. Yes, this was exactly the plan I needed!

I picked up my phone and quickly jotted down several key points in my notes app. Tomorrow when I meet Philip, I'll propose my "perfect"solution, and that poor fool will certainly take the bait.

Philip and Betty-that mother-son duo-would definitely be difficult to handle. But so what? I've seen too many self-important elite families like theirs, gleaming on the surface but riddled with weaknesses and secrets underneath. And finding and exploiting those weaknesses happens to be what I do best.

Standing before the mirror. I examined myself. My makeup remained flawless, and my eyes sparkled with cunning intelligence."Sarah Johnson."I whispered to myself, "this is just another game you're bound to win."