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After My Husband Gave My CEO Position to His Mistress Novel Cover

After My Husband Gave My CEO Position to His Mistress

The Spencer Group's annual gala was always a spectacle, but tonight it felt different. The Grand Ballroom of the Plaza Hotel glittered with chandeliers and the polished smiles of New York's tech elite. I stood beside Caspian, my hand resting protectively over my five-month pregnant belly, feeling the gentle flutter of our child beneath my fingertips. "Ready for our big announcement?" Caspian whispered, his breath warm against my ear. His hand squeezed mine, and for a moment, I felt that familiar surge of pride in what we'd built together over ten years. "More than ready," I replied, smiling up at him. "The Stardust chip is going to revolutionize everything." The room hushed as Caspian approached the podium. I took my place beside him, my navy gown stretching comfortably over my growing bump. This was supposed to be our moment—the culmination of months of secret development, the crowning achievement of our partnership. "Thank you all for coming tonight," Caspian began, his voice carrying effortlessly across the room.
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Chapter 4

The deposition room felt like a pressure cooker. Caspian's lawyers had been grilling me for hours, their questions becoming increasingly aggressive. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, making my head pound as I struggled to focus on their latest accusation.

"Ms. Spencer, these technical specifications clearly show derivative work from Spencer Group's proprietary technology," the lead attorney sneered, sliding documents across the polished table.

I opened my mouth to respond, but a sharp pain lanced through my abdomen. I gripped the edge of the table, trying to steady myself.

"I need a moment," I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.

The attorney continued as if I hadn't spoken. "Your silence will be noted as—"

Another wave of pain hit, stronger this time. Warmth spread between my legs, and I looked down in horror to see red staining my skirt.

"Something's wrong," I gasped, clutching my belly.

The room erupted in confusion. Papers scattered as I slid from my chair. Through blurring vision, I saw Gavin rushing toward me, his face tight with concern.

"She's bleeding!" he shouted, catching me as my knees buckled. "Call an ambulance!"

One of Caspian's lawyers stepped forward, his voice cold. "This is clearly a ploy to avoid answering direct questions."

Gavin's response was immediate and venomous. "You're a disgrace to your profession," he snarled, lifting me into his arms. "She's five months pregnant and you're questioning her health?"

I felt myself being carried, heard urgent voices calling for help. The last thing I saw before darkness claimed me was Gavin's face, set in lines of fury and fear.

---

I woke to the steady beep of monitors and the antiseptic smell of hospital sheets. For a moment, panic seized me until I felt the gentle swell of my belly beneath my palm.

"The baby?" I croaked, my throat dry.

A nurse appeared at my bedside, her smile reassuring. "Your little one is fine, Ms. Spencer. But you need complete bed rest for at least two weeks. The doctor will be in shortly to explain everything."

Relief flooded through me, followed immediately by frustration. Two weeks in bed meant two weeks away from Luminary Tech—two weeks for Caspian to destroy everything we'd built.

I reached for my phone on the bedside table, only to find it missing. Instead, Gavin sat in a chair by the window, typing rapidly on his laptop.

"Looking for this?" He held up my phone with a raised eyebrow. "Doctor's orders—no screens for at least twenty-four hours."

"But my team needs me," I protested, trying to sit up. "We have deadlines—"

"And you have a baby to think about." Gavin's voice was gentle but firm. "I've already set up a command center in the corner of your room."

I looked where he pointed and saw a small desk with multiple monitors and a secure connection to our servers. "You did what?"

"Your team can send updates here," he explained, moving to adjust my pillows. "I'll act as your proxy until you're cleared to work again."

Something in his expression shifted as he looked at me—a softening I hadn't seen before. "You're not alone in this, Bella."

---

The days blurred together in a haze of medical tests and strategic planning. Gavin proved to be an efficient proxy, conveying my instructions to the team with precision. But I could tell something was wrong when he entered my room with a grim expression on the fourth day.

"They launched it," he said without preamble.

I sat up straighter, ignoring the protest from my lower back. "Launched what?"

"Their new product based on the data they stole from us." He pulled up a news article on his tablet. "It's crashing systems everywhere."

I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face. "The honeypot worked."

"Better than you planned," Gavin confirmed. "Spencer Group's stock is already down eight percent."

Before I could respond, the door to my hospital room swung open. A woman in her sixties entered, her designer suit and perfect coiffure screaming old money. Margaret Spencer's cold eyes swept over me with undisguised contempt.

"Mrs. Spencer," she said, her voice dripping with false concern. "How... unfortunate to see you in this condition."

Gavin stood, positioning himself between us. "This is a private room, ma'am. You need to leave."

Margaret ignored him, her gaze fixed on my belly. "I've come to discuss arrangements for my grandchild."

"Your grandchild?" I repeated, ice forming around my heart.

"Yes." Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "Once the baby is born, we'll be filing for full custody. A single, bankrupt workaholic is hardly a suitable mother."

Gavin stepped forward, but I placed a hand on his arm, stopping him.

"You have judges in your pocket," I said quietly, remembering her implied threat from years ago.

"We have resources," Margaret corrected smoothly. "The child deserves better than what you can provide."

As she turned to leave, she added casually, "Oh, and Bella? Caspian sends his regards."

The door closed behind her with a soft click that echoed like a gunshot in my ears. A cold, terrifying rage settled in my chest—not hot anger that clouds judgment, but the icy determination of a woman with nothing left to lose.

They wanted war? They would have it.

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