My Husband Killed Our Son to Let His Mistress's Son Live

“Do you still want to marry me, Jameson?”

The line went silent for a moment, as if the man on the other end needed time to process what I had just said. Then… a laugh—low, deep, and dripping with disbelief.

“Well, well… Jasmine,” he said, my name rolling off his tongue like he was savoring the taste of it. “The queen who rejected me. My family’s greatest rival. The woman who humiliated me in front of the press five years ago because of that bastard Nathan.” He chuckled again, colder this time. “And now you’re calling me? Asking me to marry you? Did you finally realize your precious husband is an asshole?”

“Yes,” I said without hesitation. My voice didn’t waver, not even once.

The silence on the line shifted. His tone darkened. “Explain.”

“He betrayed me,” I said slowly, my voice tight, my fingers gripping the phone so hard they hurt. “He killed our baby, Jameson. He planned my kidnapping. He ripped my child from me before I could even hold him. And now… now he’s back with Carrie.”

Jameson said nothing, but I could almost hear the shift in his breathing.

“I want to take revenge,” I continued. “And I know you can help me. In return, I’ll do anything you want. So pick me up after five days.”

I didn’t give him the chance to answer. I hung up, my chest rising and falling like I’d just run miles.

The silence in the room was deafening. My own words echoed in my head—marry me, Jameson—and yet, I felt no regret. It was better to be with my enemy than to stay with a husband who had betrayed me in the worst way possible… who had killed our child before I could even whisper his name.

And all I could do was cry.

That night, Nathan didn’t come back. Not even the next day.

By the time the sun streamed through the blinds, my phone buzzed with a message from Nathan’s account. For a brief, pathetic moment, I thought it might be him finally apologizing, explaining, something—anything.

But when I opened it, my stomach turned to stone.

A photo. Nathan… and Carrie. Smiling. Her arms around him like she owned him.

And the message: Sorry, sister. Wrong message, but I hope you’re doing fine because Nathan’s kinda occupied with me right now. – Carrie.

Carrie. My half-sister.

When my father remarried, I tried to love her like my own blood. And for a while, I thought she loved me too. But I was our father’s favorite, and she knew it. Her smiles grew sharper. Her words, more poisonous.

When she couldn’t ruin my relationship with Nathan through rumors and petty games, she did the next best thing—she stole him. At first, I let him go. I told myself if he truly wanted her, then fine, he could have her. But fate wasn’t so kind.

Five years ago, Carrie ran away on the day of their wedding. Said she wasn’t ready. The scandal nearly destroyed both families. And to save our father’s reputation, I stepped in. I married Nathan, thinking—hoping—that maybe, with time, he would learn to love me again.

But I was wrong. Everything was a lie.

Because now that Carrie was back, I’d been tossed aside like I was nothing.

No. I wouldn’t let it happen again.

I discharged myself from the hospital. Nathan still hadn’t come nor texted. When I arrived at the house, it was dark and cold. No lights. No warmth.

The butler greeted me at the door, his eyes dropping to the floor when I asked, “Where’s Nathan?”

He said nothing, and somehow he looked at me with pathetic eyes.

I didn’t need an answer. I already knew.

I went straight to my room and locked the door. My hands shook as I called my lawyer.

“I want a divorce,” I said flatly.

The lawyer sighed. “Mrs. Jones, you know the rules of your prenuptial agreement. You can’t file unless Mr. Jones files and signs it himself first.”

“It will be signed. I’ll make sure.” I said through clenched teeth. “Just send it to my email. Now.”

Within an hour, the documents arrived. But before I could even read them, I made the mistake of glancing at Nathan’s laptop on my desk. He’d forgotten to log out of his email.

One click—and my world collapsed again.

Photos. Dozens of them. Nathan and Carrie. At the doctor’s office. At a baby boutique. At the beach, her belly just barely showing.

And then a message that made bile rise in my throat: Three months pregnant. Baby shower soon.

Three months ago… I was already pregnant. And he was already expecting another child with her.

Scrolling further, I found another set of photos. A venue. White roses. Invitations. Their wedding plans.

Something in me snapped.

I stormed into Nathan’s home office, yanked open every drawer, and pulled out every file, especially the ones marked Confidential. Contracts. Proposals. His so-called “special project” that had been in the works for months.

I stacked everything on the desk, photographed each page, and sent them to Jameson.

My message was short: This is everything. Ruin him.

His reply came within minutes.

Sure, my love. I’ll see you in days… and you’ll be with me forever.

I stared at the screen, my heartbeat slow and steady for the first time in days.