After His Mistress Caused My Miscarriage I Divorced Him

On Thanksgiving, my husband suggested a night skiing trip, and along the way, we picked up his "blast from the past." What was meant to be a romantic getaway for two suddenly became an awkward trio. Sensing my frustration, Legacy Clark tried to ease my mind with a smile, "Estrella, don't overthink it. I'm just doing this as a favor for her brother." But Arabella Elliott, a skiing novice, refused to hire an instructor and instead begged Legacy for lessons. Without hesitation, he started giving her private coaching. As expected, Arabella lost control and crashed into me, despite my pregnancy. Her ski pole pierced my abdomen, leaving me in a pool of blood, my life hanging by a thread. Meanwhile, Legacy didn't even glance my way, his focus entirely on comforting Arabella, who’d merely taken a minor spill. In that instant, I realized this marriage was beyond saving. As I lay on the ground, feeling the blood drain from my body, Legacy was oblivious. His attention was solely on soothing the teary-eyed Arabella.

Chapters

Chapter 3

I spent the entire Thanksgiving alone in the hospital. Most of my time was spent gazing out the window, admiring the snowy landscape, the starry sky, and the fireworks lighting up the night. During this time, Legacy never called. Instead, Arabella Elliott flooded Instagram with countless photos of them traveling together. Their mutual friends left teasing comments beneath the pictures.

"You two spent the whole holiday together—might as well make it official. You're a match made in heaven!"

"Arabella, keep those pictures coming! You're such a stunning pair!"

I stared at the screen, feeling a strange calm, like a still pool of water. I refreshed the page and saw Legacy replying to a few comments.

"Stop with the nonsense. I'm just keeping Arabella company while she's alone in New York for the holidays."

"Just to clarify, Arabella and I are just really good friends. Everyone, relax."

His replies only added fuel to their excitement. They continued to promote the idea of them being together. I knew those people never accepted me, nor did they believe in my marriage with Legacy. But we weren't divorced yet—did they have to be so ruthless? I swallowed my tears of humiliation and replied:

"Looks like good news is on the horizon, congrats."

As soon as I posted my comment, Arabella deleted all her recent posts. I silently chuckled, finding her actions pointless—they were meant for me to see, after all. I expected Legacy to call and berate me for upsetting Arabella. Sure enough, the phone rang shortly after. I picked up to find Arabella on the line.

"Estrella, did you misunderstand me and Legacy? I truly see him like a brother. If you're upset that he spent the holidays with me, I'll leave New York right away."

Her tearful voice pierced through the phone. I frowned, my patience wearing thin. Before I could respond, Legacy's voice, heavy with anger, took over the line.

"Arabella, I'm your brother's friend; it's only right to look out for you! People with bad intentions should be ashamed!"

Arabella continued to sniffle. I listened silently. No one spoke after that, and I thought that was the end. But Legacy, clearly not done expressing his anger, grabbed her phone and shouted at me furiously:

"Are you happy now, Estrella? Are you satisfied after making Arabella cry?"

"How could you be so heartless? No wonder, among the three of us skiing, only you ended up seriously injured—you deserved it!"

The sound of fireworks exploding outside drowned out Legacy's angry rant. Tears welled up in my eyes once again. For the first time, I hung up on him.

Continue to next part

Three months into their marriage, Stella Dawson had been diligently playing the role of a delicate, spoiled flower-pushing every button she could-until she finally drove the CEO to the brink of madness. Alexander Sterling coldly tossed the divorce papers at her. "Let's get divorced." Tears welled up in Stella's eyes, but inwardly, she was grinning from ear to ear. *Good riddance to being the CEO's wife! I'm going back to being the richest woman alive!* Alexander was certain he'd never regret his decision. That is, until he saw his ex-wife surrounded by admirers, amassing wealth, and dominating every industry she touched. Power players from all fields bowed before her, declaring, "Little sister, just say the word, and we'll take down anyone who dares mess with you!" Swallowing his pride, Alexander squeezed his way into the crowd of handsome men. "Sweetheart, I take it back. Let's get back together."

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.8

Beyond Betrayal: A Billionaire's Fall

8.8

I was an artist who gave up my career for my tech CEO husband, Jakob. Pregnant with our child, I believed our life was a perfect dream built on his genius. That dream shattered when I discovered his genius was a lie, built on stolen code. Then I overheard his real plan: to drug me, publicly ruin me, and auction off my body after murdering our unborn child. At our anniversary gala, he forced drugged champagne into my hand. I watched him destroy my art-my last dream-before I collapsed, losing our baby on the cold museum floor. They left me for dead, having taken everything-my love, my art, my dignity, and my child. After I survived, I walked into the interrogation room where he was being held. I showed him a fabricated DNA report proving the baby was his, alongside a real document proving he'd had a secret vasectomy. He broke down, believing he'd murdered the son he never knew he could have. "I'll do anything," he sobbed. "Then sign these," I said calmly, pushing the divorce papers and a full transfer of his billion-dollar empire across the table.

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.8

Billionaire CEO: Sweety, Don't Divorce Me!

8.8

Rumor has it that Edward Hawthorne, the world's wealthiest man, is engaged to a woman from an equally illustrious family. Yet those closest to him whisper about the first love he's been chasing for more than ten years. But as far as Alice Sterling is concerned, neither the fiancée nor this mysterious "first love" really matters. Her formidable boss, Edward, is already married-and completely devoted to his wife. He gifts her jewels worth millions without blinking, personally selects her presents from exclusive designer boutiques, and carefully plans intimate candlelit dinners. If that's not love, what is? Except.why do those multi-million-dollar necklaces keep finding their way to her? And why is the scarf he supposedly bought for his wife now wrapped around her neck? As the soft candlelight plays across his sharp features, something clicks inside Alice. It turns out the spoiled, pampered wife of the billionaire tycoon.has been her all along.

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.0

My Fiancé Impregnated My Stepmother

8.0

The scent of white lilies was suffocating. It hung heavy in the air of the Seattle funeral home, masking the damp scent of rain seeping in from the gray world outside. I stood at the mahogany podium, my knuckles white as I gripped the edges. One year. It had been exactly one year since my father, the titan behind Shaw Dynamics, had left me in this shark tank of a city. "My father believed in legacy," I said, my voice steady despite the tremor in my hands. "He believed that what we build outlasts us..." A sharp gasp sliced through the solemn silence. In the front row, Cassidy Moreno—my father’s widow, three years my junior—swayed dangerously. Her hand flew to her forehead, a perfect tableau of distress. Beside her, Archer Austin, my fiancé of five years, moved with a speed that betrayed instinct, not concern.

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.9

My Fiancé Locked Me Away for His Mistress’s Tears

8.9

The rain lashed against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Jensen estate, casting long, distorted shadows across the imported marble floors. I had come home early, the damp chill of the evening clinging to my trench coat, desperate for the warmth of the man I was going to marry. Instead, as I approached the heavy mahogany doors of the music room, the silence of the house felt suffocating, broken only by a low, frantic murmur. I pushed the door open just a fraction. The air left my lungs in a single, jagged exhale. Edison Jensen, the ruthless CEO who bent entire boardrooms to his will, a man whose pride was the very marrow of his bones, was on his knees. He wasn't picking something up. He was kneeling on the Persian rug before the piano bench. Sitting on that bench was Flora Warren, his former piano teacher—a woman woven of soft cashmere and practiced fragility. Edison gripped her pale hands, his broad shoulders hunched, his dark head bowed in absolute submission.

Billionaire Modern Romance

7.8

My Husband Chose His Widow Over Our Unborn Child

7.8

The morning light streamed through the glass walls of Alexander's office, casting long shadows across the polished concrete floor. My heart raced as I clutched the positive pregnancy test in my trembling hand. After ten years of trying—of temperature charts, hormone injections, and crushing disappointments—we'd finally succeeded. I paused in the doorway, taking in my husband's silhouette against the panoramic view of Lake Washington. Alexander's focus was locked on the streams of binary code scrolling across his three monitors, his shoulders tense beneath his tailored charcoal suit. I tapped my index finger against my temple—a nervous habit that had intensified during our fertility struggles—before clearing my throat. 'Alexander?' My voice came out softer than intended. He didn't turn immediately. When he finally did, his steel-gray eyes flickered first with surprise, then something colder that sent a chill down my spine. 'I thought you were in the lab all day,' he said, his voice carrying that clipped tone he'd developed over the past few years—professional, distant, nothing like the warm timbre that had once made me feel so secure.

Billionaire Modern Romance

After His Mistress Caused My Miscarriage I Divorced Him

Chapter 3

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