Betrayed Wife's Revenge

The apartment door swung open before Spencer could knock. Bella stood there in a silk robe, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, her expression shifting from surprise to calculated satisfaction when she saw me.

"Spencer, darling, you brought a guest?" Her voice dripped with false sweetness.

"Grace wanted to meet you." Spencer's fingers still circled my wrist like a shackle. "I thought it was time we all had an honest conversation."

Bella's apartment was smaller than our penthouse but decorated with expensive taste—taste funded by my husband, no doubt. She gestured toward the living room with theatrical grace. "Please, come in. Make yourself comfortable."

Comfortable. As if I could be comfortable in my husband's mistress's home.

"Spencer's told me so much about you." Bella settled onto the sofa, tucking her legs beneath her. "It must be difficult, Grace, clinging to a marriage that was never real."

Spencer released my wrist and moved to stand beside Bella, his hand resting possessively on her shoulder. The casual intimacy of the gesture felt like a knife between my ribs.

"Show her," Spencer said.

Bella reached for a photo album on the coffee table. Wedding photos. Spencer in a suit I'd never seen, Bella in an ivory dress, both of them laughing in what looked like a rustic chapel. The images blurred as my eyes burned.

"Our wedding was small but perfect," Bella said. "Just us and the people who actually matter. No performance for society pages."

"That's not legal," I managed.

Spencer laughed, cold and sharp. "Neither is stalking and illegal recordings, yet here we are. Grace, let's be clear about something. Bella is my wife in every way that matters. You're a contract. A business arrangement that's lasted far too long."

"Then let me go. Give me a divorce."

"When I'm ready." He moved closer, and I instinctively stepped back until I hit the wall. "But first, you need to understand your place. Kneel."

"What?"

"You heard me. Kneel before Bella. Acknowledge her as what she is—my real wife."

The world tilted. "You can't be serious."

"Do it, or I'll make sure your father's company suffers. One word from me about your instability, about how you've been harassing us, and the board will demand he remove you from any family involvement." Spencer's voice was ice. "Kneel, Grace. Accept reality."

My legs trembled as I sank down, the hardwood floor cold beneath my knees. Humiliation burned through me, but the baby—our baby that he didn't even know existed—needed me to survive this.

Bella stood, walking over to look down at me with triumphant eyes. "Say it. Say I'm Spencer's true wife."

The words caught in my throat.

"Say it!" Spencer's shout made me flinch.

"You're—" The words died as Bella suddenly gasped, her hand flying to her chest.

"I can't... I can't breathe." She staggered, her face contorting. "Spencer!"

He caught her as she collapsed, lowering her to the sofa. "Bella, baby, what's wrong?"

"My chest... hurts..." Her breathing came in shallow gasps, one hand clutching at her robe. "Can't... catch my breath..."

"Call 911!" Spencer barked at me. "Now, Grace!"

I fumbled for my phone, my fingers shaking as I dialed. The operator's calm voice felt surreal against the chaos.

The ambulance arrived within minutes. Paramedics swarmed Bella, checking vitals, asking questions. Spencer rode with her, and I followed in a taxi, my mind numb.

At the hospital, Spencer paced the emergency waiting room like a caged animal. When the doctor emerged, he grabbed the man's arm. "How is she?"

"Miss Hicks is stable, but she's lost a significant amount of blood due to an internal issue we're still investigating. She has AB-negative blood, which is quite rare. We need donations immediately."

Spencer turned to me, his eyes wild. "You're AB-negative. You told me when we first started dating."

"Spencer, I can't—"

"You can and you will." He gripped my shoulders. "She could die, Grace. Whatever issues we have, you're not a murderer. Donate the blood."

"I'm pregnant," I whispered. "I'm carrying your child. I can't—"

"You're lying. Another one of your desperate attempts for attention." He dragged me toward a nurse. "She'll donate. She's AB-negative."

"Sir, if she's pregnant—"

"She's not. She's making it up. Please, save Bella. Grace, if you ever loved me, do this."

The room spun. The nurse looked between us, uncertain.

"I'll do it," I heard myself say. Because what choice did I have? Let a woman die to save a pregnancy my husband didn't believe existed?

The needle pierced my vein. I watched my blood flow through clear tubes, my life draining away for a woman who'd stolen everything from me. The cramping started almost immediately—low, sharp pains that radiated through my abdomen.

"I don't feel well," I told the nurse.

"Almost done, honey. Just a few more minutes."

But the pain intensified, and something wet and warm spread between my legs. I looked down and saw blood—too much blood—seeping through my clothes.

"Something's wrong," I gasped.

The nurse's eyes widened. "Doctor! We need a doctor here!"

The last thing I saw before everything went black was Spencer's back as he disappeared into Bella's room, never once looking back at his wife bleeding out in the hallway.