He Threw Mud at His Pregnant Ex-Wife

The stench of sewage mixed with diesel oil was the first thing that hit Emília. Immediately after, the force of cold, muddy water slammed into her body like a punch to the stomach. Her light-colored blouse was stained dark brown in seconds, right over her five-month belly — where her baby was growing, the miracle doctors had once said would never happen.

Emília froze, stunned. The grocery bags slipped from her hands and scattered across the wet asphalt of Vila Madalena. Oranges rolled away, wafer packages tore open. Instinctively, she placed her hands over her belly, protecting the life she carried.

The deep roar of a powerful engine made her heart race.

A massive, luxurious black SUV screeched to a stop beside her. The tinted window slowly rolled down, revealing a face Emília would recognize anywhere — even after six years.

Ricardo.

The same man who once swore eternal love to her. The same man who turned away when their daughter, Sofia, died in her arms at the maternity ward. The same man who abandoned her soon after, saying she was “too broken” to be a wife or a mother.

Now, his face was twisted with contempt.

— I can’t believe it… Emília? — he sneered. — Still living like the poor, bankrupt, sterile woman I left behind.

The expensive scent of his cologne clashed with the mud dripping down her clothes.

— Just look at you — he went on. — Grocery shopping like some desperate housewife. Couldn’t even keep a real husband, huh?

Ricardo’s eyes dropped to Emília’s belly, and his smile turned cruel.

— And you actually found someone stupid enough to get you pregnant. We both know your useless body can’t carry a child. You’ll lose this one too… just like you lost our daughter.

The words were more violent than the dirty water.

Emília felt the air leave her lungs, but she didn’t cry. Memories of the hospital, the pain, the loneliness came crashing back — yet she stood her ground.

In the passenger seat, Valéria — the mistress now promoted to “executive assistant” — laughed loudly, flaunting designer sunglasses and a handbag worth a fortune.

— My God, Ricardo, what a scene! Is this the ex? — she mocked.

— Unfortunately — he replied with a shrug. — Good luck keeping that thing alive, Emília. We both know how this story ends.

The car sped off, splashing more mud as it disappeared down the street.

Emília stood there for a few moments, soaked, trembling… but not broken.

Because Ricardo Bittencourt had no idea.

No idea that the woman he had just humiliated was no longer the fragile Emília from six years ago. She was now Emília Camargo Sterling — the wife of one of the most influential billionaires in the country, heir to an international empire of technology and philanthropy.

He had no idea that the man she loved now attended every medical appointment, spoke to the baby every night, and had given her back everything Ricardo tried to destroy: dignity, security, and love.

A few days later, at a business event broadcast live, Ricardo nearly dropped his glass when he saw Emília walk into the hall — elegant, confident, with her husband by her side, a name that made everyone stand in respect.

Pregnant. Happy. Untouchable.

That was the moment Ricardo understood.

The mud he threw at her on that street didn’t stain her.

It only revealed who he had always been.

And who Emília had become.