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

The heavy clang of the cell door opening made me lift my head. Nathan stood there, flanked by two officers. His eyes were dark, his jaw clenched tight.

He stepped inside, and before I could say a word, his hand connected with my cheek.

The sharp crack echoed in the small space.

“You disgust me,” he spat, and then hit me again. My head snapped to the side, the metallic taste of blood flooding my mouth.

“Stop—” My voice shook.

“I have proof, Jasmine!” he barked. “You tried to kidnap your own sister and tried to kill her baby! The man told us! You paid him!”

“It’s not me, Nathan! I don’t even know what you’re talking about. I was framed—”

“Lies.” He grabbed my arm so hard I thought it might bruise instantly. “Do you know what the men are saying? They said you wanted the baby gone because you lost yours.”

“That’s not true,” I gasped, my voice shaking. “I would never—”

He slammed his hand against the wall beside my head. “Then what?!” he roared.

I glared at him through my tears. “You care so much about her son—rushing to protect them, acting like you’d die for them—while us? While our baby? You didn’t even bother to protect us! You were late. And now I wonder… is that even her son? Or is he yours?”

For a split second, something in his eyes flickered, then vanished. “Don’t start with your drama, Jasmine,” he said coldly. “You’re just trying to make excuses for what you did.”

“I’m asking you, Nathan,” I said, my voice trembling but steady enough to cut through the silence. “Is that your son?”

He smirked, a humorless, cruel curve of his lips. “You’re pathetic. I pity you. That baby will have a father… yours didn’t.”

My chest constricted so hard I could barely breathe. “You’re heartless.”

“Don’t you dare talk to her,” he snapped as movement caught my eye.

Behind him, Carrie appeared—face pale, lips trembling. She clutched her stomach as though there was something precious inside. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Why, Jasmine?” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Did you do this because you lost yours? Are you… jealous of my baby? You think that because of the baby I’m gonna steal Nathan? But he was mine first… you stole him!”

“I didn’t steal him! You left him!”

“Don’t you dare talk to her,” Nathan said again, his voice low and dangerous. “You’ll spend the rest of the night here. Tomorrow, you’re coming to the presentation with me—whether you like it or not.” He leaned closer, his breath hot against my ear. “And if I don’t get the deal, if I find out you’re lying about all of this… I’ll make sure you never see the light of day again.”

He stepped back, gave me one last look full of nothing but hatred, and left—Carrie following close behind, dabbing her fake tears with a handkerchief.

The door slammed shut, the echo reverberating through my chest.

I sat back down, my hands trembling. The pain in my cheek throbbed, but it was nothing compared to the fire in my chest. I could barely breathe—not from fear, but from pure rage.

Rage at Nathan. Rage at Carrie. Rage at every single person who had stood there and believed her lies over my truth.

Hours passed—how many, I didn’t know. I tried to sleep, but the metal bench bit into my skin, and every time I closed my eyes, I saw Nathan’s face, cold and unforgiving.

I had almost given in to the thought that I’d be left here overnight when the sound of approaching footsteps made me look up.

The guard unlocked the cell door. “You’re free to go.”

My brow furrowed. “What?”

And then I saw him.

Jameson.

He stood there, his suit impeccable as always, his expression unreadable except for the faint curl of satisfaction at the corner of his lips.

“Come on,” he said simply. “I pulled some strings. He’d think you’re missing after this,” he cut in, waving off the guard. “Consider it my wedding gift because you’re mine from now on.”

“Better than my asshole ex-husband I guess,” I replied.

The car was waiting for us outside. He opened the door, and I slid in without a word. Within minutes, we were boarding his private plane.

Once inside, I pulled my phone from my pocket, yanked out the SIM card, and tossed both into the small trash bin beside my seat.

Nathan’s POV

The morning sun spilled through the blinds, but I barely noticed it. Today was too important—the presentation I’d been working on for months for a billion-dollar project. Everything had to go perfectly.

I adjusted my tie in the mirror, rehearsing my points in my head. “Flawless,” I muttered, grabbing my briefcase.

Carrie leaned against the doorway, cradling a cup of tea. “Are you sure,” she asked slowly, “you’d really let her go after what she did?”

I glanced at her reflection in the mirror. “I’m not letting her go,” I said flatly. “I need her for the presentation. Without her, the project will be incomplete. Whatever else she’s done, she’s still my architect.”

She tilted her head, feigning innocence. “And after?”

I gave a faint, humorless smile. “After… we’ll see.”

I turned away from her, my tone brisk again. “Have the car ready,” I told the butler. “And go pick up Jasmine in the cell and have her dressed. She needs to be here on time.”

The butler hesitated. “Sir… there’s a problem.”

I froze mid-step. “What problem?”

He swallowed hard. “The police just called… they said… Ms. Jasmine is missing.”