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My Husband Murdered Our Baby to Protect His Mistress's Child Novel Cover

My Husband Murdered Our Baby to Protect His Mistress's Child

A grieving mother’s world shatters when she learns her husband intentionally killed their infant to save his mistress’s child. Driven by agony and a relentless pursuit of justice, she delves into the dark secrets behind his monstrous betrayal. As she untangles a complex web of deception and hidden agendas, she meticulously plots her revenge. She is determined to dismantle his existence and force him to answer for his unforgivable cruelty.
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Chapter 3

The private jet touched down in Kilimanjaro at sunset, the sky bleeding orange and red like an open wound. I watched the colors through the window and thought about how easy it would be to disappear here. How many people vanished in Africa every year? How many bodies were never found?

Leonardo's hand settled on my knee. "Smile for the cameras, darling. This is supposed to be a reconciliation."

Through the tinted glass, I could see the press gathered on the tarmac. He'd leaked the trip himself, spun it as a romantic gesture—a husband trying to save his marriage after his wife's "emotional breakdown." The narrative was already written. I was the unstable one. He was the devoted spouse.

Veronica descended the stairs ahead of us, her linen dress catching the wind. She turned back, one hand resting on her stomach, and smiled. The cameras ate it up.

"Remember," Leonardo murmured against my ear, "one wrong move and that memorial garden becomes a parking lot."

I smiled for the cameras.

---

The lodge was all teak and canvas, luxury disguised as wilderness. Our suite overlooked a watering hole where elephants gathered at dusk. It should have been beautiful. Instead, it felt like a cage with a better view.

I'd managed one encrypted message to my mother before Leonardo confiscated my phone. "Working on it," she'd replied. "Stall."

So I stalled.

Dinner was served on the terrace under a ceiling of stars. Veronica wore white—virginal, if you didn't know better. The candlelight made her skin glow, and she kept touching her stomach like she was cradling something precious.

"I've been craving the strangest things," she said, cutting into her steak. "Pickles and ice cream, can you believe it? So cliché." Her eyes found mine across the table. "Did you have cravings, Thea? Before?"

The wine glass stem felt fragile between my fingers. "I wouldn't know. I didn't get that far."

"Oh." She pressed her hand to her mouth, the bracelet—my bracelet—sliding down her wrist. "I'm so sorry. That was thoughtless of me."

Leonardo leaned back in his chair, swirling his scotch. He was watching us the way a scientist watches rats in a maze. Curious. Detached. Waiting to see which one would break first.

"Veronica's right," he said. "We should be more sensitive. Thea's been through a lot." He reached across the table, his fingers closing over mine. "But we're here to heal. To move forward as a family."

Family. The word tasted like poison.

Veronica's smile sharpened. "A family. Yes. That's what Leo and I want for our child. Stability. Love." She paused, her tongue darting across her lower lip. "Things every child deserves, don't you think?"

I pulled my hand free from Leonardo's grip. "Excuse me. I need air."

Neither of them tried to stop me.

---

Derek Garcia was waiting by the fire pit, his face half-shadowed by flames. Veronica's cousin. The one Leonardo had insisted join us for "security purposes."

"Mrs. Stone." He stood when he saw me, his posture stiff. Uncomfortable.

"You don't have to call me that."

"Your husband prefers formality."

I studied him. He had Veronica's dark eyes but none of her venom. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets, and he wouldn't quite meet my gaze.

"You know what she is," I said. Not a question.

His jaw tightened. "She's family."

"That's not an answer."

For a long moment, he said nothing. Then: "Be careful tomorrow. The game drive. Leo's planned the route himself."

Something cold crawled up my spine. "What does that mean?"

But he was already walking away, disappearing into the darkness beyond the firelight.

---

The Land Cruiser left at dawn. Leonardo drove, Veronica beside him in the passenger seat. Derek and I sat in back, the space between us thick with unspoken warnings.

We drove for an hour, leaving the marked trails behind. The landscape shifted from grassland to scrub, the vegetation growing sparse and hostile. No other vehicles. No rangers. Just us and the vast, indifferent wilderness.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

Leonardo's eyes found mine in the rearview mirror. "Somewhere private. I thought we could use some time away from the crowds."

Veronica laughed, the sound bright and terrible. "Leo knows all the best spots. Don't you, darling?"

The engine coughed. Once. Twice. Then died.

Leonardo turned the key. Nothing. He tried again, his movements deliberate, unhurried. "Well. That's unfortunate."

"What's wrong?" Veronica's voice had lost its playful edge.

"Not sure. Might be the fuel line." He climbed out, popped the hood. "Could be a while."

I looked at Derek. His knuckles were white where they gripped the seat.

Through the window, I could see them. Three lionesses, maybe two hundred yards away, their bodies low in the tall grass. Watching. Waiting.

Leonardo leaned against the hood, his phone in his hand, not even pretending to check the engine. He was smiling.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" he called back. "Apex predators. They can smell fear from miles away."

Veronica's hand found the door handle. "Leo, this isn't funny."

"I'm not laughing." His eyes locked on mine. "Are you afraid, Thea?"

The lionesses were moving closer.

And Leonardo just stood there, watching me, waiting for me to break.

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