The first night my husband came home after three years away, I noticed something strange: he no longer slept on his back. Instead, he wrapped an arm around my waist as if he’d been doing it for years. “Who taught you to hold me like that?” I asked. He sighed and replied, “If you pretend you don’t know, you can keep being my wife.” I didn’t argue. The next day, I called my lawyer because I already had proof of what he had been doing for those three years.

I stared at the black folder in my hands, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Julian smoothly took a sip of his bourbon, his eyes scanning the crowded ballroom to ensure we weren't being watched.

He explained that Chloe had been planted in his company by a rival tech conglomerate to steal proprietary data.

Ethan, blinded by his own ego and lust, was the perfect gullible target for her corporate espionage.

Julian needed my help to expose them both without tanking Vance Global's stock prices.

He promised that if I played along, he would personally ensure my stolen money was returned tenfold.

I didn't have to think twice before agreeing to his dangerous proposition.

My first task was to return home tonight and pretend that Ethan's threats had genuinely terrified me.

When I arrived back at the house, the atmosphere was suffocatingly tense.

Ethan was sitting in the dark living room, staring into the fireplace with a glass of whiskey in his hand.

I walked in slowly, keeping my head down, playing the role of the broken, defeated wife perfectly.

I told him I was sorry for showing up at the gala and that I didn't want to fight anymore.

Ethan scoffed, taking a long drink before standing up to tower over me.

He pulled a legal document from his briefcase and threw it onto the coffee table.

It was an aggressively predatory post-nuptial agreement that would leave me with nothing if we divorced.

He demanded I sign it right then and there, or he would release embarrassing, fabricated information about my family's business.

Tears sprang to my eyes, real tears born of pure hatred, as I picked up the pen and signed my name.

Ethan smirked, looking incredibly satisfied with his easy victory.

He turned his back on me to put the document away, completely dropping his guard.

While he was distracted, I slipped my hand into his discarded suit jacket draped over the armchair.

I pulled out the burner phone Julian had told me to look for and slid it into my purse.

I excused myself to the upstairs bathroom, locked the door, and turned on the shower to mask any noise.

When my newborn 'passed away,' my mother-in-law leaned in and said

My Husband Left Me Alone in My Car While I Was in Labor

“You’re Dead When We Get Home,” He Snapped

I booted up the burner phone, bypassing the passcode with the sequence Julian had provided.

The first message thread I opened wasn't from Chloe, but from a hitman Ethan had apparently hired to tamper with my car's brakes.

Chapter 4 - The Poisoned Apple