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The Bottom Line: His Suffering Novel Cover

The Bottom Line: His Suffering

My husband Gabriel's affair with his young protégée, Kaia, had already cost me everything. Our marriage was a hollow shell, and his cruelty had even led to the miscarriage of our child, leaving me broken. But the day he defended Kaia by slapping my ten-year-old niece, Bea, so hard he ruptured her eardrum, something inside me finally snapped for good. He stood over her small, unconscious body and screamed, "She deserved it!" He had already financially ruined my brother and now had brutalized a child-all to protect his mistress. The man I had loved for sixteen years was a monster. All the pain and grief I'd carried for so long burned away, leaving only cold, hard resolve. He expected tears. He expected hysterics. Instead, when I found him at the hospital, I walked straight up to him and slapped him across the face. "My family is my bottom line, Gabriel," I said, my voice dangerously calm. "You crossed it. And now, I will make you suffer."
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Chapter 3

Allison POV:

The lukewarm water in the bathtub felt like a shroud, clinging to my skin as if to remind me of the emptiness inside. Gabriel had left me there, just as he had left me in every other way imaginable. Minutes stretched into hours, the silence of the large house pressing down on me. My body throbbed with a dull ache, a constant echo of the life that had been snatched away.

He returned briefly, sometime later. He brought me a glass of water, his face a mask of weary concern. "Are you feeling any better, Allison?"

I just nodded, my voice gone. He lingered for a moment, then his phone buzzed. He glanced at it, and a flicker of something, urgency, crossed his face. "I have to go," he said, his voice clipped. "Kaia… she needs me."

And just like that, he was gone again. The door clicked shut, leaving me in the cold silence of the large, empty bathroom. I lay there, too weak to move, too heartbroken to care. The physical pain was a dull throb, but the emotional agony was a gaping wound. My body grew stiff, my muscles seizing. I couldn' t even lift my hand to call for help.

When the nurse finally found me, hours later, I was shivering uncontrollably, my lips blue. She helped me out, her face etched with concern. She gave me painkillers, wrapped me in warm blankets, and sat by my side.

"Your husband said he' d be back soon," she offered gently.

I just closed my eyes. He wouldn' t. He hadn't bothered to stay even a moment when my body was still reeling from the trauma he caused.

The next morning, the nurses decided I needed more comprehensive care. They transferred me to a different hospital wing, one with better facilities for post-operative recovery.

We were in the elevator, the nurse pushing my wheelchair, when the doors opened on the third floor. And there he was. Gabriel. His arm was around Kaia' s waist, his head bent, murmuring something to her. She giggled, a bright, carefree sound that shredded my last nerve. She was wearing a flimsy silk nightgown, a delicate, pale blue one that I recognized instantly. It was my favorite, a gift from Gabriel on our honeymoon.

My stomach lurched. The pain, physical and emotional, was a tidal wave. They looked up, saw me. Gabriel' s smile faltered. Kaia' s eyes widened, then quickly narrowed as she recognized the nightgown on herself, then on my face.

"Allison," Gabriel said, his voice flat. He pulled Kaia closer, as if to shield her from my gaze.

Kaia leaned into him, her hand touching his chest. It was a public display of ownership, a deliberate barb. My heart, which I thought had nothing left to give, twisted in agony. A sharp, searing pain tore through me, like a thousand tiny needles piercing my flesh. I felt lightheaded, a deep, hollow ache in my chest. It felt like my very essence was being ripped from my body, leaving behind a gaping, bleeding void.

The nurse, seeing my ashen face, quickly pushed the wheelchair past them, muttering, "Excuse us."

"I' m so sorry, Mrs. Kaufman," the nurse whispered, her hand briefly touching my shoulder. "I didn' t know…"

"It' s not your fault," I managed to say, my voice hoarse. My eyes were fixed on the rearview mirror of my soul. I had watched him, the man I loved, choose her, protect her, cherish her, right in front of me, after he had just murdered our child and left me bleeding. He had seen my pain, my humiliation, my brokenness, and chosen to display his infidelity even more brazenly. The last shred of trust, of hope, of any emotional connection, was gone. It was a clean break, brutal and final.

Later that day, Gabriel visited. He still wore the facade of a concerned husband. "Allison, I' m so sorry about… everything," he said, his eyes avoiding mine. "But you need to understand. Kaia… she' s very sensitive. And your behavior… it' s been erratic. You need to focus on getting better."

I just stared at him. He was still spinning the narrative. Still blaming me. Still protecting her.

"By the way," he continued, his tone shifting, "that person downstairs, the one you hired… Leo. What was that all about? I saw him leaving your room the other night."

I almost smiled. "Oh, Leo. Yes. He' s a professional stand-in. I needed someone to… fill a certain role."

Gabriel' s jaw tightened. "A role? What kind of role, Allison?"

"Your role, Gabriel. The one you' d abandoned." I said it calmly, matter-of-factly, watching his face. There was no jealousy, no anger this time. Just a vacant look. He didn' t care. Not about who I brought into our home, not about what I did to cope.

He nodded slowly. "I see." He paused, then stood. "I have to go. Kaia needs me at the office."

He left. Just like that. The perfect husband facade dropped the moment he realized I was no longer a threat, no longer clinging to him.

I later learned he' d whisked Kaia away to an extravagant retreat, parading her as his partner, introducing her to his high-society contacts. He was investing heavily in her, grooming her to be the face of their future, not just professionally, but personally. He was pouring money into her career, her wardrobe, her social standing. He was building her up, just as he'd torn me down.

But he didn't know. He didn't know about the quiet transfers I' d made over the years. The hidden accounts. The assets I' d meticulously secured, piece by piece, under the radar. My mind, sharp and strategic, had been working long before my heart finally broke.

Kaia, for a while, reveled in her new-found glory. She was everywhere, draped in designer clothes, her face plastered across society pages. She was the rising star, the new darling of the real estate development scene. Until the whispers started. Whispers about her lavish spending. Whispers about the company' s mysteriously dwindling funds. Whispers that turned into shouts when a major charity event she was fronting collapsed due to a colossal financial miscalculation. She was publicly humiliated, exposed as a social climber with no real business acumen, just a pretty face and Gabriel' s money.

She ran to Gabriel, sobbing, pleading. He was furious, not at her incompetence, but at the public scandal. He blamed me, of course. For not being there to "guide" him. For making him vulnerable.

His retaliation was swift and brutal. He used his connections to have me involuntarily committed to a psychiatric facility. "For observation," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "For your own good, Allison. You' re clearly unstable."

They drugged me. They isolated me. They tried to break me. But in the quiet, padded room, my mind, sharp and clear, plotted.

When he finally came to "visit" me, after weeks of forced isolation and a cocktail of sedatives, he looked triumphant. "Feeling better, Allison?" he asked, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. "Maybe now you' ll learn your lesson. Kaia needed my protection. You tried to ruin her."

"You threw away our child," I said, my voice raspy, but steady. "You tried to destroy me. All for her."

He shrugged. "She' s young. She makes mistakes. You… you' re just bitter."

"Bitter?" A cold, hard laugh escaped my lips. "Gabriel, she tried to replace me. She attacked Bea. She' s a manipulative, venomous snake."

His eyes narrowed. "Don' t you dare, Allison. Kaia is a good person. She' s just… misunderstood. And you' re just jealous." He leaned in, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "If you ever try to hurt her again, I will make sure you disappear. Permanently."

"Why, Gabriel?" I asked, my voice flat. "Why her? Why did you throw away everything we built? Everything we were?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Allison, you were… comfortable. Predictable. Kaia… she' s exciting. She makes me feel alive."

It was the oldest cliché, spoken with practiced ease. My heart, or what was left of it, felt nothing. No pain, no anger. Just a profound weariness. His words were just noise now. Empty, meaningless noise.

"I want a divorce," I said, the words cutting through the sterile air. "I want to separate our assets. Officially."

He looked startled. "A divorce? Allison, don' t be foolish. We have too much tied up together. Our company. Our reputation."

"I don' t care about any of that anymore, Gabriel," I said, my voice gaining strength. "I want out. And I want what' s mine."

The game was over. The rules had changed. And he had no idea what was coming.

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