My Husband Cheated with the Nanny

Ana avoided my gaze in panic. I rushed forward and grabbed her arm, my voice shaking: “What do you mean about my father’s death?”

Before she could answer, Johnny kicked me away!

Caught off guard, I slammed into the wardrobe. Pain exploded through my body, leaving me crumpled on the floor.

Johnny glared at me, furious. “Lourna, instead of managing the funeral, you come here to lose your mind? Touch Ana again, and I swear—I’ll make your life worse than death!”

His words cut through me like knives, leaving my heart torn and bleeding.

Was this really the same man who used to be gentle and polite?

I looked up at him, forcing each word out: “Johnny, do you have any humanity left? Today is my father’s funeral!”

“So what?” He replied coldly, completely unfazed. “It’s just someone who died. Why are you acting like such a drama queen?”

Just… someone who died?

That someone was my father!

I snapped, my voice trembling with fury. “If not for my father, you’d still be scavenging trash in the slums! And now you dare do this at his funeral? You dare betray me?!”

He stared at me with a chill I’d never seen before—like I was nothing more than an enemy.

“Lourna, do you still think you’re the daughter of the Spencer family? Wake up. Your father’s dead. And you—an infertile hen—aren’t even a real woman! Ana is doing you a favor, solving your childless problem. You should be thanking her!”

Then he grabbed my shoulders and pushed down hard, trying to force me to kneel before Ana.

I resisted with all my strength, but he pressed harder, nearly crushing my bones.

Seeing me shaking from the pain, Ana sneered, “Sister, Johnny’s right. I serve him for your sake. You should really be grateful.”

That bitch!

“You’re delusional!” I snapped, eyes blazing, wishing I could tear her apart.

My defiance seemed to enrage Johnny even more. He slapped me hard across the face. “Lourna! Can’t you understand plain words?!”

The blow left me dazed, ears ringing, and my heart completely shattered.

A glint of satisfaction flickered in his eyes, and he looked ready to hit me again—but our shouting had drawn attention from outside.

Realizing this, he and Ana quickly scrambled to dress and escape.

I tried to stop him, but he shoved me aside like trash and then kicked me hard in the stomach!

Pain surged through me, and I instinctively clutched my belly—then I felt something warm trickling down my leg.

I looked down. Blood streamed from my thighs, the sight blinding.

My baby!

I called the hospital, barely managing to explain my condition before I collapsed from the pain.

Right before I passed out, one thought consumed me: If anything happens to my child, I swear I’ll make Johnny pay—worse than death.

When I arrived, I was lying on a hospital bed.

No one was beside me. Only a doctor stood at the foot of the bed, his expression full of pity. “Miss Spencer, I’m sorry. We couldn’t save your child.”

It felt like a gaping hole had opened in my chest, letting the cold flood in and drown me.

This was the child I’d finally conceived after three years of IVF and unbearable hardship.

I hadn’t even felt one kick. And now he was gone…

Losing my father, and now my baby—I broke. The dam inside me burst, and tears flowed freely.

The day before my father died, Johnny said he had an urgent project and insisted I go to his place.

Now that I look back, they had planned everything in advance!

I was so blind… My foolishness cost my father his life.

Hands trembling, I dialed my brother.

After ten seconds, he picked up. His voice was laced with impatience: “What is it?”

“Brother,” I choked out between sobs, “Johnny and the nanny… they had an affair. At Dad’s funeral—”

Before I could finish, he cut me off coldly. “So what? Men make mistakes. Stop being dramatic. I’m busy with company matters. I don’t have time for your nonsense.”

I was stunned. “But I think… I think Dad’s death might be related to them…”

“Nonsense!” he snapped, voice rising. “Dad died of illness! What does that have to do with anyone? Don’t ever say something like that again! If I hear more of this garbage, I’ll shut your mouth myself!”

Then he hung up.

I stared at the dark phone screen, numb.

My brother had always been the filial one—he even cared more about Dad’s health than I did.

So why was he now avoiding the topic of Dad’s death like this?

At that moment, a terrible suspicion began to grow inside me—was Dave Spencer hiding something from me too?