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After my husband forged a false testimony for his mistress, I could no longer tolerate it Novel Cover

After my husband forged a false testimony for his mistress, I could no longer tolerate it

My sister Lila was driven to suicide after her attacker, Ethan Cole, walked free and intimate photos leaked online. My father is comatose, my lawyer brother is wrongfully imprisoned, and the public blames us for framing the culprit. The mastermind behind this nightmare is my own husband of ten years, Liam Foster. He fabricated the evidence to protect Ethan—the brother of his first love, Vanessa. Now, I will stop at nothing to expose their lies and destroy everyone who ruined my family.
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Chapter 3

The things I should've done, the things I shouldn’t have done, the things I was forced into, the things I agreed to—I had done so many things that even I couldn’t respect myself anymore.

But now, all I wanted was to end everything as quickly as possible.

So once again, I obediently put the shoes on Vanessa.

Maybe I was too obedient, and Liam lost his amusement.

He dragged me into his room in anger and stripped Vanessa’s clothes off right in front of me.

Scenes like this—I had seen them too many times.

Sometimes Liam even asked me to step in and teach the women he brought home.

Just like before, I tore open the condom wrapper and handed it over.

But this time, Liam pushed it away.

“No need tonight.”

My hand trembled, then withdrew.

His movements didn’t stop, yet for once he actually lifted his eyes and glanced at me.

I didn’t look at him. I didn’t even care to.

Liam got angry again and locked me inside the bathroom.

That night, the wind and snow outside were fierce, and the noises outside were loud as well.

I sat there listening to it all night.

Half-asleep, I was jolted awake by an urgent ringing phone.

“Is this Miss Clara? Your mother has been in a car accident. She’s in emergency rescue right now—please come to the City People’s Hospital immediately.”

My heart tightened instantly.

“Liam!”

I began pounding on the door, trying desperately to interrupt the sounds coming from outside.

Liam opened the door wearing only a bathrobe.

His loose collar revealed kiss marks all over him, and the woman in his arms clung to him without letting go.

“What is it?”

“My mom was in a car accident. Can you take me to the hospital, please?”

I fell to my knees begging him, tears bursting from my eyes, terrified he’d refuse because he wasn’t in a good mood.

“Seriously, do you not even think when you lie?”

Vanessa let out a mocking laugh and pointed at the pitch-black sky and falling snow outside.

“It’s three in the morning and snowing. Normal people are all at home asleep. What did the car do—crash straight into your mom’s house?”

Liam laughed too, not even lifting his eyelids.

“Clara, you’re lying about something like this?”

“What, is it because you couldn’t stand hearing us?”

He locked the door again.

The more I shouted, the louder things outside became.

With no other choice left, I grabbed the stool beside me and smashed the window, then climbed out.

The sharp glass sliced open my leg instantly, blood dripping into the snow.

It was too late at night, and with the snow falling, I couldn’t get a taxi at all.

I could only run like a lifeless corpse through the streets.

In the snow, the long streaks of bright red blood were shocking to look at.

After two soft beeps, a black Cayenne pulled up beside me.

“Get in.”

Inside the dim and confined car, the man in the driver’s seat never once turned to look at me.

I thanked him over and over, yet he didn’t say a single word.

Only when I was about to get out of the car did I hear him speak:

“Clara, besides Liam… you still have other options.”

“If you think it through, come find me.”

A gold-embossed business card was handed to me.

I received it with both hands, thanking him repeatedly.

But at that moment, all I could think about was my mother, so I slipped it into my pocket without even looking at it.

I stumbled into the emergency room, not even able to ask anything before I saw a nurse pushing out a body covered with a white sheet from the operating room.

“Has the family for Linda still not arrived?”

“She’s already dead, and her daughter still isn’t here. What a sight.”

The two nurses chatting casually pierced my heart with every word.

I rushed over and lifted the white sheet.

The once well-kept face was now covered in wounds, her body and legs bruised and broken everywhere.

For the past ten years, every single minute, I had resented my mother.

I had even once wished that we could die together.

But now that she was truly dead before my eyes—all I felt was pain.

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