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The Lace Bra Under My Husband’s Pillow Isn’t Mine Novel Cover

The Lace Bra Under My Husband’s Pillow Isn’t Mine

Three months into her pregnancy, a woman discovers a stranger's lace bra under her husband's pillow, exposing his affair with their supposed cousin. After surviving their toxic attempt to kill her unborn child, she exposes the lovers at a family gala. Yet, as her husband's life crumbles, she uncovers a darker mystery: the mistress is a mafia syndicate operative, and her lethal debt now targets the pregnant survivor.
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Chapter 1

The front door clicked shut behind me. I dropped my keys into the ceramic bowl on the console table.

The metallic clatter echoed sharply through the quiet house.

I set the plastic bag of prenatal vitamins down next to them. Two hours early. Damon expected me to be at the clinic all afternoon, trapped in the usual waiting room purgatory.

A sudden blur of movement near the hallway caught my eye.

Mia darted across the living room carpet, heading straight for the kitchen. Her bare feet slapped loudly against the hardwood transition.

"Mia?" I called out.

She froze. Her shoulders jerked upward, and she spun around to face me.

Our live-in nanny looked nothing like the sickly, bedridden girl I had left behind this morning. She wore an oversized silk nightgown that hung loosely off one shoulder. The collar was stretched wide, exposing a vast expanse of her collarbone. A deep, blotchy red flush stained her neck and crept up her cheeks. Her hair stuck up in wild, tangled knots, clinging to her forehead with sweat.

"Sophie!" She grabbed her collar, yanking it up to her neck. Her fingers trembled visibly. "You're home early."

"The doctor ran ahead of schedule," I said. I set my bag down and took a step toward her. "Are you feeling worse? You look awful."

She let out a short, nervous laugh that sounded more like a choke.

"No, no. I just..." She stammered, backing away as I approached. "My fever broke."

"You're sweating," I pointed out.

"I took a heavy nap and slept right through the afternoon under too many blankets."

"And now you're sprinting through the house?"

"I just woke up," she insisted, her voice pitching a full octave higher than normal. "I realized what time it was and I was rushing to start dinner for you and Damon."

"You don't need to run. It's only four o'clock."

Mia blinked, her eyes darting wildly toward the wall clock. "Oh. I guess my alarm was wrong."

I frowned. A strange, cold knot formed in my stomach.

"Don't worry about cooking," I told her, keeping my tone perfectly even. "You're sick. Go back to bed. I'll order takeout."

"Are you sure?" She took a quick step backward, retreating toward the kitchen island. "I can just throw something together. It's no trouble at all."

"Positive. Go rest."

"I feel bad leaving you to handle dinner. Especially after your appointment."

"I said go rest, Mia." My voice sharpened, just a fraction.

Mia flinched. She nodded quickly, keeping her head down as she scurried past me and disappeared down the hall to her bedroom.

A sharp click broke the silence.

The study door swung open.

Damon stepped out into the hallway. He wore a crisp white button-down shirt, tucked perfectly into his tailored slacks. His tie was perfectly knotted. He rolled his shoulders, rubbing the back of his neck like a man exhausted from hours of grueling work.

"Soph?" He blinked, feigning a look of mild surprise. "I didn't even hear you come in."

"I just got back a few minutes ago."

He crossed the distance between us in three long strides. He wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close, and pressed a kiss to my forehead. His skin felt unusually warm against mine.

"How was the checkup?" he asked, his voice low and smooth. "Did the doctor say everything is on track?"

"Everything is fine. The baby is healthy."

"Thank God." He let out a long, heavy sigh, leaning his forehead against mine. "I hated missing it. You know I did."

"I know. Mia had that sudden fever this morning, so I just went by myself. It wasn't a big deal."

"Right." Damon didn't even glance down the hall where Mia had vanished. "I've been locked in that study since lunch. That international merger meeting dragged on forever. Those overseas executives love to talk in circles."

I glanced toward the closed study door, then back at his perfectly pressed shirt. "You look exhausted. Did you even take a break?"

"No time for breaks today. Just a massive headache." He squeezed my hip gently. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there with you today. Once this quarter ends, I promise I'll make it up to you. I'll take a week off. Just you, me, and the baby."

I stepped back, putting an inch of space between us. A strange numbness settled in my chest. Instead of feeling comforted, his promises rang hollow.

"I'm in the early stages, Damon. I can handle a routine doctor's appointment alone. You don't need to worry about me."

"I'm your husband. It's my job to worry. What do you want for dinner? Takeout tonight?"

"Thai food."

"Perfect. I'll order it right now. Why don't you go upstairs and put your feet up? You've had a long day."

"Did you hear Mia running around earlier?" I asked.

"Mia? No. I had my noise-canceling headphones on the whole time. Why?"

"Nothing. She just seemed

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