Accused of Causing My Husband's Mistress Miscarriage

Clifford stared at the phone screen that had remained dark and silent for far too long, his brows deeply furrowed.

She had never gone this long without replying.

In the past, even when she stormed off in anger, she always came back within three days. But this time—it had already been ten.

A creeping sense of unease settled into his chest.

Could something really have happened that day?

For the next few days, even with Denise by his side, Clifford was visibly distracted.

Even in bed, his mind wandered—haunted by the silence she left behind.

The day before his birthday, he finally caved. He dialed her number.

“Tomorrow is my birthday. If you don’t come…”

Before he could finish, the cold, disconnected tone cut him off.

He froze.

The line was dead.

His fists clenched. He slammed them against the table.

"Tyrone, find Faith for me—now!"

His voice shook with fury.

“Damn it, Faith! When I find you, you’re done!”

After all, they were childhood sweethearts. She had been there for every birthday.

Even when their relationship cracked, even when he strayed—she never missed one.

Not once.

The next night, on his birthday, Clifford reserved an entire floor of the city’s most exclusive club.

The lights, the champagne, the music—it was all extravagant.

Denise dressed to the nines, gracefully greeting guests like the rightful hostess. She was glowing, flitting through the crowd like a butterfly.

But Clifford barely noticed.

His eyes kept darting to the entrance, as if expecting someone.

Midnight was drawing near.

She still hadn’t come.

His chest tightened. The weight of her absence grew heavier with every passing second.

Just as the hour hand reached twelve and the last bit of hope dimmed from his eyes, the club door finally opened.

He sat up abruptly—heart racing—

But it was only Tyrone, walking in with a folder in hand.

"Mr. Delaney, this was sent by your wife..."

The word wife jolted him upright. He reached for the folder, lips already curling into a smug smile.

“I knew Faith wouldn’t really leave. She just wanted attention—this must be my birthday present.”

But when he opened it and saw the first page, all color drained from his face.