My Husband and Son Chose His Mistress Over Me

Nash hurriedly hid the drawing behind his back, his small voice tinged with guilt and unease.

“N-No, it’s nothing...just a regular school assignment.”

Catherine looked at her son, catching the guilty flicker in his eyes. Disappointment welled up inside her.

Even now, he was still lying to her.

She took a deep breath and held out her hand toward him, her tone firmer than intended.

“Let Mommy have a look.”

But Nash shook his head hard and stepped back, keeping the drawing hidden behind him.

His resistance stabbed at Catherine’s heart.

She got up and reached for the paper, but Nash grew impatient and shoved her—hard.

“Ahh!”

She had been sitting on the edge of the bed, and the sudden push sent her crashing to the floor.

The vase on the nearby nightstand toppled over and smashed against her temple, leaving a terrifying gash.

Blood streamed from her brow, dripping into her eyes, burning them with pain.

“Nash! What are you doing?!”

Leandro had entered the room at some point. His face twisted with panic as he rushed to help her up, pulling her into his arms.

But when he saw the blood pooling at her temple, his voice turned sharp with anger.

“Nash, why did you push your mother?”

Nash’s eyes welled up with tears. But he stubbornly raised his chin and said stiffly, “She tried to take my drawing! I didn’t mean to hurt her...”

“What drawing?”

After a moment of hesitation, Nash reluctantly pulled out the hidden picture and handed it to Leandro.

“It’s just the family portrait assignment from school... Daddy and Teacher Nina helped me with it...”

Catherine could clearly feel the moment Leandro saw the drawing.

His body stiffened, and the arm wrapped around her tightened instinctively.

He quickly shoved the drawing back at Nash, urging him to put it away as if he were afraid she'd see it.

Only when Nash carefully tucked the picture into his backpack did Leandro finally relax a little.

“You still can’t push your mother,” he scolded. “Now apologize to her.”

“...I’m sorry, Mommy.”

Catherine stood frozen, watching the whole scene play out like a carefully rehearsed drama. Her heart turned cold.

So the “family portrait” was a group project completed by the three of them.

And she, the mother, the wife, had been kept in the dark like a complete fool.

When she didn’t respond to Nash’s apology, Leandro assumed she was simply in pain.

He leaned closer and gently blew on her wound with concern.

“Does it hurt? Let me take you to get it dressed.”

As he bent over, his collar slipped open, revealing faint traces of lipstick and love bites. The scent of perfume mixed with sweat hit her sharply in the nose.

Catherine clenched her fists at her sides and turned her face away, pushing him off.

“No need. I’ll stay in the study tonight. Didn’t you say the company’s facing a major decision and needs my divination?”

Without waiting for a reply, she lowered her gaze and walked out of the room.

She didn’t want to see the marks another woman had left on her husband—not the scent, not the evidence, nothing.

It only made her sick.

Leandro watched her retreating back, an unfamiliar unease stirring in his chest.

He suppressed the feeling, pressing his fingers to his brow with a heavy sigh.

“Nash,” he said, his tone low. “You have to be more careful around Mommy. She must never find out about this, understand?”

“...I understand, Daddy.”

—

Catherine stayed in the study all night, performing a full divination session.

It wasn’t until morning light streamed through the windows that she finally stopped, exhausted.

She stared at the result on the table. Her heart gave a violent jolt.

“Great misfortune.”

Her brows furrowed.

Even if they were no longer truly husband and wife, she didn’t want to see Leandro make a costly mistake. She resolved to warn him before she left—if only for the sake of caution.

But before she could even open the study door, she saw Leandro and Nash rushing toward her in a panic.

“Catherine! Come quick!”

They pulled her into a guest room. Her face turned pale the moment she saw the unconscious figure lying in bed.

Nina.

“She suddenly collapsed this morning,” Leandro said, his face filled with worry. “The doctors couldn’t find anything wrong. Can you divine what’s causing it—and how to treat it?”

Catherine heard the urgency in his voice.

And without thinking, she immediately refused.

“No. I can’t.”