My Husband and Son Chose His Mistress Over Me

Olivia Hayes lay crumpled at the bottom of the grand staircase, her manicured hands clutching her stomach.

"She pushed me, Ethan!" Olivia shrieked. She pointed a trembling finger up at the landing where I stood. "She just looked at me and shoved!"

Before the accusation fully registered, Ethan bounded up the stairs. He closed the distance between us in three massive strides. His hand connected with my cheek. The crack echoed off the high ceiling of the foyer, sharp and violent.

My vision flashed white. I stumbled back against the wall, my hands flying to shield my lower abdomen. Three months pregnant, and my husband had just struck me over a complete fabrication.

"Ethan, I swear," I stammered. My voice shook so hard the words barely formed. "I didn't even touch her. I was ten feet away."

"Shut up, Charlotte!" Ethan roared. His chest heaved, his eyes dark with fury. "I saw her fall!"

"You saw her fall, but you didn't see me push her!" I argued, pressing my back against the cold plaster. "I wouldn't do that. I was bringing down the laundry."

"You've hated her since the day she moved in," Ethan accused, his voice echoing off the walls. "You've made it perfectly clear you want her out of this house."

"Because she isn't just your dead friend's widow, Ethan!" I yelled back. "She's trying to replace me!"

He ignored me, spinning around and rushing back down the steps. He dropped to his knees beside Olivia. His hands hovered over her body, frantic and trembling, treating her with a care he hadn't shown me in years.

"My baby," Olivia gasped. She buried her face into Ethan's chest, her shoulders heaving with dramatic