After My Husband Sacrificed Our Baby for His Mistress

Aspyn’s twenty-seventh birthday party was the biggest event of the month. She had booked the Grand Ballroom at The Plaza Hotel.

Three days before the gala, Kian tossed a heavy, gold-embossed envelope onto the kitchen island.

"You're coming," he said, taking a sip of black coffee.

I looked at the gold lettering. "I'd rather stay home."

"It would look strange if you didn't come," he snapped. His voice was clipped and irritated. "People talk. Mother will be there. You will smile, stand beside me, and behave."

I didn't answer. I just picked up his empty cup and put it in the sink.

The next afternoon, Aspyn came to our penthouse.

She wore a soft pink sweater and jeans that cost more than a month's rent. She said she was helping Kian pick an antique watch for the gala’s charity auction.

"Just borrowing him for a little while, Katalina," she said, giving me a sweet, patronizing smile.

While Kian took a business call on the terrace, Aspyn asked for a glass of water. Then she excused herself to use the bathroom.

I was at the stove making tea. Down the hall, I heard the faint, dull click of my bedroom door shutting.

I frowned. The guest powder room was right by the foyer. She had no reason to go into the master suite.

A minute later, she walked back into the kitchen. Her cheeks were flushed. Her lips curved in a tight, secretive smile.

"Thanks for the water, sweetie," she said breezily.

She left shortly after.

I didn't realize what she had done. Inside my walk-in closet, tucked beneath my winter scarves, was a small locked jewelry box. In the bottom velvet drawer lay the Tear of Aphrodite.

It was a custom diamond pendant on a platinum chain. Arlo had designed it himself and ordered it from a jeweler in Paris. He had planned to ask me to marry him with that necklace the very night a truck ran a red light on the FDR Drive.

Months after the funeral, his mother Eleanor had brought the small black box to my apartment. She had cried in my arms. It was the last physical piece of Arlo's love I had left in this world.

And now, my drawer was empty.

***

Friday night arrived.

The Grand Ballroom at The Plaza was dazzling. Over two hundred guests filled the room. Wall Street executives, fashion designers, and socialites mingled beneath massive crystal chandeliers that hung like frozen waterfalls. Soft classical music floated over the hum of chatter and clinking champagne glasses.

I wore a simple black floor-length dress. I carried a small black satin clutch.

The moment we walked through the double doors, Kian left my side without a word. He walked over to a cluster of hedge fund managers by the bar, acting as if I didn't exist.

I stood by the coat check, trying to blend into the shadows.

"Katalina! You actually came!"

Aspyn glided toward me. She looked radiant in an emerald green silk gown with an open back. Diamond studs glittered on her ears.

Before I could take a step back, she threw her arms around my neck.

It was a dramatic, public embrace. Her jasmine perfume filled my lungs.

"I’m so happy you're here," Aspyn whispered near my ear.

Her hands slid down my shoulders, smoothing the fabric of my dress. Her fingers lingered at my waist, brushing lightly against the open seam of my clutch. It was so fast, so smooth, I barely felt the weight shift.

She pulled away with wide, sparkling eyes. A few nearby photographers took pictures of our "warm" reunion.

"Enjoy the party," Aspyn chirped, then turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Twenty minutes later, the music abruptly stopped.

A sharp screech echoed from the speakers.

Aspyn stood on the raised stage at the front of the room. She held a wireless microphone in trembling hands. Her other hand was pressed flat against her bare throat.

Her face was pale. Her eyes were rimmed with red.

"I'm so sorry, everyone," Aspyn said into the mic. Her voice was breathy and broken, perfectly pitched to carry across the quiet room. "I hate to ruin the mood. But... something terrible has happened."

A murmur swept through the ballroom.

"My grandmother’s necklace," Aspyn sobbed, a single tear spilling over her cheek. "The Tear of Aphrodite. It’s an irreplaceable family heirloom. I left it in my purse in the private lounge just minutes ago, and it's gone."

Gasps erupted around the tables.

"Please," Aspyn wept into the mic. "It's all I have left of her. Security is going to do a quick check of everyone's bags before anyone leaves. If you have nothing to hide, please cooperate. I just want it back."

Two burly security guards in dark suits moved down the main aisle.

Guests opened their bags readily, whispering and craning their necks, eager to see the drama unfold.

One of the guards stopped directly in front of me.

"Ma'am," he said in a low, stern voice. "I need you to open your clutch."

"Of course," I said evenly. My conscience was clear.

I unclasped the small satin purse and held it open for him.

The guard peered inside, frowned, and reached in.

His fingers pulled out a platinum chain. Dangling from the end was a large, pear-cut diamond. Under the chandeliers, the stone blazed with brilliant blue-white fire.

The entire room seemed to suck in a breath.

A wave of loud gasps rippled through the crowd.

Immediately, dozens of phones shot into the air. Camera shutters clicked like frantic gunfire. Flashbulbs blinded my eyes.

"Katalina..." Aspyn gasped from the stage. Her voice cracked with heartbreaking disappointment. "How could you? After everything... why would you steal from me?"

The room turned into a wall of hostile eyes and angry whispers.

I stood frozen in the glare of the lights, staring at the diamond in the guard's hand.

Across the ballroom, Kian stood among his friends.

He didn't ask a question. He didn't ask for an explanation.

He just looked at me with flat, cold disgust.