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Heartless Husband and His Mistress Killed My Seven Children Novel Cover

Heartless Husband and His Mistress Killed My Seven Children

Pushed from a third-floor balcony while five months pregnant, a devastated wife survives only to lose her eighth child. While grieving in the hospital, she overhears her billionaire husband, Javon Davis, discussing a dark conspiracy with his doctor. He has been systematically terminating her pregnancies to satisfy the bizarre needs of his mistress, Cynthia Whitney. Shattered by the betrayal of the man who claimed to love her, she vows to give this ruthless pair exactly what they deserve.
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Chapter 2

I knew in my heart that this was nothing but the mask he wore to deceive me.

“Must I drink it… can I refuse?”

Javon, you had already murdered seven of my children. Now, you wanted to take from me even the last right of being a mother.

He did not waver. With a gentle pat on my head, he smiled as though in doting care.

“You’re such a grown woman, yet still acting like a child. If you refuse the surgery, how can your body recover? Do you want your husband to be worried sick?”

“Come, let me feed you.”

He held the milk to my lips, forcing it upon me without room for resistance.

I shut my eyes tightly, feeling as though I swallowed not milk, but knives laced with thorns.

My consciousness slipped away. In the fog of my fading sight, I saw the doctor who had conspired with Javon step in.

“Let’s proceed with the surgery now. Also…”

Javon’s voice paused for several seconds before he spoke.

“Use anesthesia to paralyze her lower body.”

“Mr. Davis, isn’t that unnecessary? Isn’t it far too cruel?”

“Do as I said!”

I had always known Javon to be wary and suspicious, yet I never expected that simply because he saw me awake earlier, he would become this ruthless.

My child, my right to be a mother, and now even the chance to walk, he wanted to take it all away.

Javon, must you tear out my heart like this?

In despair, I screamed, struggling to rise, only to sink deeper into the darkness of unconsciousness.

When the haze of anesthesia lifted, I vaguely heard the doctor’s voice. “Mr. Davis, her uterus has been removed. Also, she will never stand again.”

Overcome with delight, Javon repeated twice, “Good! Good!”

When I fully woke, his tears dripped onto my hand, his grief appearing heartbreakingly real.

“Addison, the doctor said your uterus had rotted, you will never be able to bear children again.”

I ignored his words, desperately trying to move my legs.

But there was no sensation at all.

I broke down, sobbing until I could scarcely breathe, my body trembling as I demanded, “Javon, what did you do to my legs?”

His tears fell in heavy drops, his voice choking so hard he could barely form words.

“The anesthesia surgery went wrong. Your lower body… is paralyzed.”

“Addison, don’t be afraid. No matter what you become, I’ll never leave you. I’ll always love you.”

I never imagined Javon’s acting could be so flawless.

He sent the nurses away, personally feeding me oatmeal, wiping my body, and even cleaning my postpartum discharge with his own hands.

Busy until late into the night, he finally leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to my forehead.

“Addison, you’ve suffered so much carrying children for me. From now on, I’ll treat you twice as well.”

I glanced at his weary face, then coldly turned my eyes away.

“If you’re tired, rest for a while.”

“Alright, I’ll stay here and watch over you. Call me if you need anything.”

When his breathing deepened and he fell asleep, I reached for his other phone.

I had always known Javon kept another one, but I had thought it was only for work, so I had never checked it.

I tried once, and it unlocked immediately.

The password was Cynthia’s birthday.

The lock screen lit up with their wedding photos.

Wedding photos.

He had actually gone to take wedding photos with Cynthia. That white gown pierced my eyes like fire.

With trembling fingers, I opened his WhatsApp. Javon had saved her name as “baby”…

Message after message, the deeper I read, the colder my heart became.

So every so-called business trip had been nothing but an excuse to be with Cynthia.

I had swallowed my anger countless times, hating how he never once went with me to the hospital.

So many times, when doctors asked where the baby’s father was, I could only force a smile and answer that he was busy.

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