After He Faked His Death, I Chose to Live

I drifted awake to the sound of nurses whispering in the room.

"Miss Mason only had a little scare with the baby, and her husband moved her straight into a VIP suite. He's been by her side the whole time, terrified something might happen to her."

"And then there's this one. The glass nearly hit her carotid artery. Do you know how close that was? She's been awake for a while now, and not a single person has come to see her. It's just sad."

"How can two people's lives be so different?"

After the door clicked shut, I slowly opened my eyes and let out a bitter laugh.

My hand drifted to the gauze on my neck. Tears slid down my cheeks. I wiped them away and swung my legs off the bed to go find the billing desk.

I had barely sat up when Anthony shoved the door open and stormed in. He seized my wrist, his voice ice-cold.

"Nora, what the hell are you trying to do?"

"Lying to you was my decision. Victoria had nothing to do with it!"

"If you have a problem, take it up with me. Why did you have the media drag her name through the mud online, calling her a homewrecker?"

"She just woke up, saw those posts, and got so worked up she nearly jumped off the balcony. Did you know that?!"

His grip was brutal. The color drained from my already pale face.

I wrenched my wrist free with every ounce of strength I had and fired back.

"Anthony, I never did anything like that!"

He let out a contemptuous scoff and shoved his phone in my face.

The screen was flooded with posts calling Victoria Mason the other woman.

Henson Group's wife Victoria Mason — a mistress who clawed her way to the top.

Beyond that, there were lengthy threads detailing how Anthony Henson had faked his own death and spun an elaborate web of lies to deceive his girlfriend, all for the sake of his mistress.

Henson Group's stock had been in freefall ever since.

And the outlet that had broken the story was the same one where my best friend used to work.

Anthony's eyes were glacial, his tone dripping with mockery.

"Still denying it? Your little friend worked right there, didn't she?"

"When it comes to you, she's always been the first to charge in without a second thought."

I stood frozen, struggling to explain through the frustration choking my throat.

"She moved abroad three years ago. She hasn't worked there in—"

"Stop lying to my face!"

Anthony cut me off, his voice sharp as a blade, his eyes heavy with disappointment.

"Nora, when did you become so calculating?"

"You used to be such a kind person. Now you'd rather drive Victoria and her unborn child to their deaths."

He paused. When he spoke again, his tone softened in a way that made no sense.

"Have you forgotten how much pain you were in when you lost your own baby?"

My head snapped up. I locked onto his gaze and held it.

My heart felt like a dull knife was sawing through it, tearing open scars that had barely held together.

The memory surged back unbidden. Six years ago, the day I found out I was pregnant, I walked into our apartment and found Anthony tangled up with Victoria in our bed.

I had only just discovered the affair. Before I could even confront him, the shock sent me to the hospital.

I made it home in a daze, only to hear the unmistakable sounds of a man and a woman behind the bedroom door.

I lost my mind. I flew into the kitchen, grabbed a knife, and charged at them. But Anthony threw himself in front of Victoria, shielding her, and shoved me so hard I slammed into the vanity.

A searing pain ripped through my abdomen. Something warm and wet spread between my legs. The baby was gone. Just like that.

After that came his tearful apology, his threats to kill himself if I left. And after that came my surrender, my foolish belief that he had changed.

Bitterness coated my tongue like ash. I forced a hollow smile, my voice so hoarse it barely sounded human.

"Anthony, Victoria Mason will never shake that label. Not in this lifetime. What the two of you have will always disgust people."

"And you don't get to mention my baby. Ever."

"Nora, shut your mouth!"

Anthony's brows twisted into a hard knot as he barked the words. His eyes were sheets of ice, and in them there was not a single trace of guilt.