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My Wife Tried to Kill Me,So I Filed for Divorce in Front of Her Whole Family Novel Cover

My Wife Tried to Kill Me,So I Filed for Divorce in Front of Her Whole Family

When Hester Cobb fractures her leg and ribs in a car accident, her husband rushes to the hospital, only to be met with fierce hostility. A distraught young dealership employee aggressively blames him for the crash, yet Hester warmly defends the emotional stranger instead of her own spouse. Realizing his wife's heart now belongs to someone else, the billionaire protagonist detaches emotionally. Rather than starting a scene, he calmly prepares to unleash Ball Group Legal and the police on the dealership.
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Chapter 2

Joshua pressed a small, delicately carved peachwood talisman sword into Hester's palm.

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, gazing up at him with a softness that could melt steel.

Anyone watching would've sworn these two were more than colleagues.

Joshua bit his lip, reluctance written across his face as he finally pulled away. Passing by me, he lowered his voice in explanation:

"Darrell, this is my fault. I let Ms. Cobb drive off before the car was properly inspected, and then the accident happened."

"Please don't misunderstand—I carved that peachwood sword myself. I'm hoping it'll ward off any bad luck for her."

The car wasn't properly inspected?

But the dealership had called me to pick it up.

And that brake failure last time—was that also due to a shoddy inspection?

"Darrell, I've been meaning to talk to you about the dealership situation."

Hester's voice pulled me back to the present.

We were alone in the hospital room now. A smile spread across her face as she carefully set the talisman sword aside, then reached for my hand.

"Joshua just graduated, and it happened to be his birthday. It was just a gift. Don't tell me my CEO husband is jealous?"

She said it like it was nothing—like she'd given away some worthless trinket.

I shifted, avoiding her touch.

"So this is what you're into?"

The air went still.

Hester's expression flickered. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"I didn't tell you because I was worried you'd overthink it. Joshua and I are innocent. We—"

"I don't care."

I cut her off, my tone detached.

"I haven't caught you in bed together, I'll admit that. But I don't tolerate even a grain of sand in my eye, Hester. Whatever ideas you're entertaining—drop them. I have no interest in making this ugly."

Hester looked up at me, disbelief clouding her features.

"You don't believe me?"

I gazed down at her, my eyes flat and unreadable.

Silence was answer enough.

She opened her mouth to say more, but the phone on the nightstand buzzed.

The name on the screen—Joshua—burned into my vision.

Hester hesitated, then answered. Joshua's pitiful voice immediately drifted through:

"Ms. Cobb, is Darrell giving you a hard time? Even if he's angry, please don't fight with him, okay?"

"I ordered some bone broth from Fortune Kitchen for you. I didn't want Darrell to get the wrong idea, so I won't deliver it myself."

Two sentences. He'd managed to play the devoted puppy while subtly reminding her just how close they really were.

I didn't move.

Hester glanced at my face and hung up.

A cold laugh echoed in my chest. I had no patience left for this charade. I turned and walked toward the door.

"Darrell!"

Hester called after me, frantic.

"You're really angry?"

"I promise I'll stay away from him. No more contact, ever. Please don't be so cold to me?"

"My leg hurts..."

I paused, turning my head just slightly. My voice could've frozen the air.

"If your leg hurts, call a doctor. I have work. Rest well."

Outside the hospital, the cold wind hit my face, finally tamping down the fury coiling in my chest.

I pulled out my phone and dialed my assistant.

"Evan Brooks. Dig into Joshua Delgado. I suspect he had something to do with my brake failure last time."

After that last service appointment, my brakes had given out mid-drive. I'd swerved into a landscaped median to avoid a catastrophic crash.

That evening, Nina Caldwell—manager of an upscale watch boutique—arrived at my door on Hester's orders. She presented dozens of luxury timepieces for my selection.

"Ms. Cobb certainly knows how to take care of you," Nina remarked, admiration in her voice. "Such devotion. It's enviable, really."

I glanced over the watches, feeling nothing but bitter irony.

"You're reading it wrong. The night a man cheats, he tells his wife 'I love you' over and over—trying to drown out his own guilt."

"Women are no different."

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