After My Father's Death, I Left My Billionaire Husband

"I saw this news story recently about a college girl who got harassed by a professor, and it reminded me of what happened at our school back in the day."

My fingertips went rigid.

"Come to think of it, that older student was pretty pathetic too. I heard she tried to seduce a professor just for five hundred dollars in living expenses."

"Ended up getting used and thrown away. Destroyed her uterus. Can never have children."

"But honestly, she had it coming. A woman that loose? What kind of ending did she expect?"

She stroked her belly, her smile equal parts tender and cruel.

"If I have a son, I'll make sure to teach him to protect himself so he doesn't get trapped by women like that."

"And if it's a daughter, she definitely wouldn't stoop to something so shameless."

Something inside my skull snapped clean in half.

Jesse hadn't just told her. He'd let her twist it into this filthy version and parade my scars as entertainment in front of hundreds of thousands of viewers.

I was shaking so hard I could barely type, but I poured every ounce of strength I had left into one comment.

"You're the shameless homewrecker here!"

The next second, I was blocked and muted.

Then the flood came. Calls and texts from countless unknown numbers, all at once.

"You seduced a professor, you slut, and you have the nerve to talk?"

"A woman like you can't have kids? That's karma!"

"Go die! Stop contaminating the air!"

The venom swallowed me whole.

I couldn't hold on anymore. I hurled my phone at the wall, slid down to the floor, and sobbed until I couldn't breathe.

Jesse didn't know.

That professor never succeeded.

I had gone to beg that animal to sign a pardon letter so Jesse could keep his degree.

And that sick old man had brutalized me until the damage was permanent.

I traded half my life for his bright future.

And he turned it into pillow talk with another woman.

I braced myself against the wall, found the backup phone in the house, and sent Jesse one message.

"I know about you and Edith. Let's get a divorce."

Less than three minutes after I hit send, the front door was kicked open.

Jesse stood in front of me, his face dark with fury.

"Lucretia Chavez, how could you be so shameless? Going behind my back to feed lies to Edith's parents?"

He threw me so hard my vision blurred and my ears rang. I couldn't even process what he was saying.

"Edith? What happened to her parents?"

Jesse drove his knee into my chest, pressing down with enough force to splinter ribs.

"Keep pretending! Go on!"

"Edith's parents saw the messages calling her a homewrecker. Her father had a heart attack and is in the ICU."

"Who else would do something like that if not you?"

Cold sweat streamed down my face. I clung to his wrist with everything I had, shaking my head desperately.

"I only found out about you and her today. I don't even know where her parents live. How could I have reported anything?"

Jesse's grip loosened. Something lost and blank flickered through his eyes.

Then his phone started buzzing violently.

It was Michael.

"Jesse, it's bad! Edith's gone! After those people in the livestream called her a homewrecker, she turned off her phone. Her location's dead. No one can reach her!"

The color drained from Jesse's face. He walked toward me, step by step, and the look in his eyes was the kind of unhinged that made your blood run cold.

"Lucretia. Where are you hiding her?"

"I'm not! I have no idea where she is!"

The whip cut through the air and cracked across my back.

"Talk! Did you lure her out?"

I screamed. I begged. But every word I said, he took as another lie.

Jesse wore himself out. He dropped the whip, panting, and pulled his phone from his pocket.

On the screen were the photos that animal of a professor had taken of me all those years ago.

Jesse stared at me, his expression dark.

"If you don't tell me where Edith is, I'll send these to your father. Let him see what a fine daughter he raised. Let him see how filthy she really was."

Every drop of blood in my body went cold. My heart seized like a fist had closed around it.

"Don't... Jesse, please, don't send them..."

My father's health was so fragile. A shock like that could kill him.

I lunged for the phone like a woman possessed. In the struggle, I saw Jesse's thumb hit send.

Jesse froze too.

He stared at the screen. Delivered. The color drained from his face.

He scrambled to recall the message, to delete it, fumbling so badly he could barely dial his assistant's number.

"Go! Get to the hospital! Take the phone from Lucretia's father! NOW!"

That was when Michael burst through the door.

"Jesse! Found her! Edith bought a plane ticket overseas. She went on vacation. Her phone had no signal before, she just turned it back on!"

Dead silence.

Jesse stood rigid. The phone slipped from his hand and hit the floor with a crack.

He looked at me. Panic and regret tangled behind his eyes.

He scrambled toward me on his knees, trying to undo the chain, trying to wrap a towel around me.

"Lucretia, Lucretia, listen to me. He didn't see it. I sent someone to grab the phone. They'll get there in time..."

"Don't be scared. As long as he didn't see it, nothing will happen. Right?"

He babbled at me, incoherent, like a child who knew he'd done something unforgivable.

Then his phone rang again.

"Hello? Is this the family of Percy Chavez? You need to get here now! The patient... the patient was holding his phone when he jumped off the roof!"