Returning To Ruin My Cheating NHL Husband

Avery POV:

The call connected. But before anyone said hello to me, Clara's husky, breathy voice filtered through the phone speaker. She had obviously answered the call, but deliberately chose to speak to the man on top of her first, making sure I heard every explicit detail.

"Ah... Babe, slow down... please..." Clara whined playfully, her voice laced with heavy pleasure. "There's a call... you're moving so fast I can't even speak..."

"You answer it, then," Liam's deep, rough voice replied, sounding completely lost in lust. "I'm not stopping."

The wet sound of skin slapping against skin didn't stop. In fact, it seemed to grow louder and more aggressive. Clara let out another soft, drawn-out moan of pleasure before finally speaking into the receiver, her tone dripping with lazy, post-coital sweetness. "Hello? Who is this?"

She didn't use my name. She knew exactly who was calling—my name would have been flashing brightly on Liam's screen—but she played dumb, deliberately trying to provoke me and make Liam think I was just some random caller.

In the background, I heard Liam let out a low, territorial growl. "Is that your persistent admirer again?" he asked, deliberately picking up the pace, making Clara gasp loudly. He was putting on a show, claiming his absolute dominance over her, entirely unaware that he was performing for his dying wife.

My knuckles turned stark white as I gripped the phone. The sheer audacity, the blatant, disgusting disrespect—it was nauseating. The man I had loved for years was currently sweating over my worst enemy, completely unbothered by the fact that he hadn't heard from his heavily pregnant wife all night.

Fighting down the acidic bile rising in my throat, my sorrow instantly crystallized into a frigid, unyielding rage. I quickly swiped my screen and hit the record button. I needed every piece of evidence. I needed to remember this exact moment of humiliation.

"Where is Liam?" I asked, my voice a shard of absolute ice, refusing to let her hear even an ounce of my pain.

Clara let out a condescending little giggle, completely ignoring my direct question. "Oh, my husband is right here next to me. Do you need him? He's a bit... busy right now... ah... making me feel so incredibly good..."

My face darkened into a stormy, murderous scowl. While I had been bleeding out on an operating table, hovering on the very edge of death, having my blood completely drained and replaced to bring our child into this world, my husband was vigorously thrusting into another woman.

I ended the call without another word.

To listen to another second of their filthy display would be to debase myself further. Tears burned my eyes, hot and furious, but I fiercely swiped them away. You don't get to cry, Avery Hayes. Not anymore. You have a daughter to fight for, and a war to win.

In that moment, a meticulous plan began to bloom in the frozen wasteland of my heart. I would make this cheating bastard and his manipulative mistress pay dearly. I would strip them of their dignity, their wealth, and their happiness. And above all else, Liam Sterling would never, ever know that he had a daughter fighting for her life in the NICU. He didn't deserve her.

The door to my hospital room burst open. My best friend, Delaney Sullivan, rushed in, her hair disheveled and her coat thrown haphazardly over her pajamas. She was carrying a thermos. Her eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, widened in absolute terror when she saw my pale face, the IV drips, and the sheer amount of medical equipment surrounding me.

She was my second emergency contact at the hospital. The moment she got the critical condition call in the middle of the night, she had driven at breakneck speed from out of town, terrified she wouldn't make it in time.

"Ave? Oh my God, what happened? I've been calling you all night! I thought you were dead!" She rushed to my bedside, dropping the thermos and grabbing my hand.

Seeing her, the iron band crushing my chest loosened just a fraction. I squeezed her trembling hand. "Delaney," I whispered, my voice steady. "I had the baby. It's a girl."

She froze, her gaze dropping to my now-flat stomach under the thin blanket, then back to my face. Disbelief warred with shock. "You... what? But you're a month early! Where the hell is Liam? Why isn't that useless piece of trash here?"

I told her everything. The restaurant. The diamond bracelet. The bleeding. The phone call he coldly ignored. And the sickening audio I had just recorded.

Delaney's expression shifted from shock to disbelief, and then to a white-hot, volcanic rage that made her entire body tremble. "That absolute bastard. And that filthy bitch. I'm going to kill him. I'm going to castrate him and feed him to the dogs!"

She spun around, ready to march out of the room and commit murder. I grabbed her arm firmly. "Delaney, don't."

"Why not? He can't get away with this, Ave! You almost died!" Her eyes were red with fury and unshed tears.

I looked at her, my eyes as cold as a winter storm. "He won't. But I have a much better plan. Death is too easy for him."

I laid it all out for her. To hide the birth. To let everyone, especially Liam and his image-obsessed family, believe I was still pregnant. To use their ignorance as a weapon to tear them apart from the inside.

Delaney listened, her initial rage slowly morphing into a dawning, brilliant admiration. A slow, dangerous, predatory smile spread across her face.

"Yes," she said, her voice low and fierce. "Ave, I'm in. Whatever you need, I'll make it happen. First, I need to get you out of this hospital. The Sterling family can't find out you were ever here. I have a friend who owns a top-tier private wellness center on Long Island. The security is insane. I'll get you the best suite."

"And my daughter..." My voice softened.

"I'll get the best lawyers on it. We'll make sure that asshole never gets within a hundred feet of her," Delaney vowed.

Clara POV:

Liam collapsed heavily beside me, his broad chest heaving, his powerful, muscular hockey player physique slick with sweat. He pulled me possessively into his arms, burying his face in my neck and pressing soft kisses against my skin.

"What did that persistent stalker of yours want this time?" he asked, his voice rough and incredibly sexy.

I froze for a second, almost forgetting the lie I had spun earlier to make him jealous. "Oh, just begging for another chance. I told him I was busy with my man."

Liam chuckled, his massive ego sufficiently stroked. He didn't suspect a single thing. He closed his eyes, a highly satisfied smile on his face, and relaxed into the pillows, drifting into a light, exhausted doze.

While his eyes were closed, I glanced down at his phone, which I was still holding in my hand. The screen lit up, revealing not just the call I had just ended with Avery, but a long, frantic list of missed calls from last night. Dozens of them. Some were from Avery, and several were from a local hospital.

A wicked, triumphant smile touched my lips. It was a very good thing I had secretly turned his phone on "Do Not Disturb" mode last night while he was distracted. Otherwise, our perfect, romantic birthday celebration would have been completely ruined by whatever pathetic, attention-seeking drama Avery was trying to pull.

Moving quickly and quietly, my fingers danced across the screen. I deleted the entire call history from last night and this morning. Every single missed call, every trace of her desperation, vanished into thin air. Then, with a quick tap, I turned off the "Do Not Disturb" mode, restoring the phone to normal.

I placed the phone innocently back onto the nightstand and snuggled deeper into Liam's chest, wrapping my arms around him as if absolutely nothing had happened.

So what if Avery was legally married to him? Liam's heart, his body, and his attention clearly belonged to me. He believed every single word I said. As for that pathetic loser Avery, she was probably crying like a beaten dog in some dark hospital room right now, wondering why her husband had abandoned her.