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My Husband’s Mistress Killed Our Baby Novel Cover

My Husband’s Mistress Killed Our Baby

I spent all afternoon in the kitchen. The pasta was from scratch. The sauce had been simmering since two. I'd even found the good candles—the tall ivory ones we bought in Florence on our honeymoon—and set them in the silver holders I'd polished that morning. Three years. I wanted tonight to feel like something. I touched my stomach without thinking about it. Just a light press of my palm against the front of my apron. Eight weeks. I hadn't told anyone yet.
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Chapter 3

I signed my name on the dotted line. The metal pen felt cold against my fingers. The dark ink bled slightly into the thick paper, sealing the end of my marriage. I didn't hesitate. I didn't let my hand shake.

Lorenzo stood right behind my chair. He had refused to wait outside. His imposing frame seemed to suck all the air out of the room. He smelled of cedar and quiet power. He wore a dark, tailored suit that screamed old money. Beside him, Jericho’s flashy chrome office suddenly looked cheap and hollow.

Jericho stared at my signature. A small twitch pulled at the corner of his jaw. He picked up the paper, his eyes darting to my face, searching for a crack. He wanted tears. He expected me to drop to my knees and beg for a piece of the life I had actually built for him.

"Just like that?" Jericho sneered. He tapped his gold pen rapidly against the mahogany desk. A nervous tell. "You’re really going to walk away with nothing?"

"I'm walking away," I said flatly.

Jericho flushed. My cold indifference was a direct hit to his fragile ego. He loosened his silk tie, his neck turning a mottled red. "Don't come crying to me when you're on the streets, Ellie. I won't save you."

Lorenzo shifted. The movement was small but lethal. He placed a warm, heavy hand on my shoulder. "She will never need your saving," Lorenzo said. His voice was a low, smooth rumble. Dangerous.

Jericho glared at him, intimidated but trying to mask it with arrogance. "Who the hell are you?"

"We are done here," Lorenzo said, ignoring Jericho completely. He looked down at me, his dark eyes softening just for a second. "Let's go."

I stood up. I didn't look back at Jericho. I just walked out.

Lorenzo drove me to the marital apartment in his Maybach. I needed one last thing. Maxie. She was my golden retriever, the only pure thing left in that place.

"I can go in with you," Lorenzo offered, putting the car in park across the street.

"No," I said. I looked up at the fourteenth floor. "I need to do this quickly. I'll be right out."

I took the private elevator up and used my key. The apartment smelled like expensive vanilla candles and fresh paint. It used to be my sanctuary. Now, it just made my stomach turn.

I stepped into the foyer. "Maxie?" I called out softly.

Instead of the familiar click-clack of paws, I heard a sharp, high-pitched yelp. It came from the living room.

My heart dropped. I threw my purse on the console table and ran.

I rounded the corner and froze. Vivienne was there. She wore my favorite white silk robe. She had a tissue pressed to her nose, her face twisted in an ugly sneer. Maxie was backed into the corner by the sofa, her tail tucked tight between her legs. She was whimpering, her paws slipping on the hardwood floor.

"Stupid, filthy mutt," Vivienne hissed. She pulled her foot back and kicked Maxie hard in the ribs.

Maxie let out a pained cry and scrambled sideways.

A blinding, white-hot fire exploded in my chest. I didn't think. I just moved.

I crossed the room in three fast strides. I grabbed Vivienne by the shoulder and spun her around. Before she could even process my face, I swung my hand back and slapped her.

*Smack.*

The sound cracked like a whip in the quiet room. The force of it sent Vivienne stumbling backward. She tripped over the edge of the rug and fell hard onto her hands and knees. Her hand flew to her cheek. An angry red handprint was already blooming on her pale skin.

"Are you crazy?!" Vivienne shrieked. Her eyes were wide with shock.

"Don't you ever touch my dog," I snarled. My knuckles were white. My whole body vibrated with a rage so deep it scared me.

"Ellie!"

I whipped my head around. Jericho stood in the hallway. He dropped his leather briefcase. It hit the floor with a heavy thud. He ran straight to Vivienne and helped her up.

"What is wrong with you?" Jericho yelled at me. His face was purple with anger. "She's allergic! The dog was attacking her!"

"Maxie was cowering in a corner," I said. My voice dropped to a deadly, quiet whisper. "She kicked my dog, Jericho."

"It's just an animal!" Jericho shouted back. He wrapped his arms protectively around Vivienne, who was now forcing out fake, breathless sobs. "Vivienne is having a severe reaction! You're out of your mind. Take your mutt and get out of my house!"

I stared at him. The man I had loved for years. The man I had secretly bankrolled, protecting his pathetic pride at the cost of my own happiness. He looked so small right now. So weak. He was defending a cruel, greedy woman who was only here for the money. Money he didn't even know was gone yet.

I didn't argue. I didn't scream. The last thread connecting me to him just snapped.

I knelt on the floor. Maxie crawled into my arms, shaking violently. I buried my face in her soft golden fur and clipped the leash to her collar. "I've got you, girl," I whispered. "We're leaving."

I stood up. I held the leash tight. I looked at Jericho and Vivienne one last time.

"You two deserve each other," I said coldly. "Enjoy the apartment, Jericho. Enjoy the life. Let's see how long you can keep it."

I turned my back on them. I walked out the door with Maxie by my side. I didn't slam the door. I just let it click shut behind me. The sound was final. It sounded exactly like freedom.

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