My Husband Pretended to Be Crazy for Another Woman’s Love

At eighteen, Duncan Moretti had nothing—no status or power—just one of my father's lowest goons.

And yet, inexplicably, I fell for him completely.

When my father discovered the truth, he locked me in my room. The window was three stories high, and I jumped without hesitation. As a result, I broke three ribs and a leg.

In the hospital, with stubbornness burning in my eyes, I grabbed his shirt and begged him to take me away. Duncan was gentle then, just as he pretended to be now.

Later, he told me he wanted to get ahead, to stop being looked down on. So I walked that path with him, all the way to where we are now.

The promises that Duncan had failed to keep for me would now be fulfilled for someone else.

It was unfortunate they never had the opportunity.

My people arrived quicker than I anticipated. The couple who had dreamed of escaping together found their hopes dashed and were trapped, unable to move.

Duncan's eyes were bloodshot as he shouted hoarsely at me.

"Lauren! If you've got the guts, kill me with them! Do whatever you want to me, but leave Shaina alone!"

I pulled out the scalpel and tossed it at his feet.

A faint smile ghosted across my pale face. "Duncan, you know the rules. If you hurt me, someone has to pay."

The black muzzle of a gun pointed straight at his face.

He looked calm, as if ready to die. Then, blood splattered. Three of his fingers, severed and still clutching the bloody blade, landed at my feet.

He looked up at me, his eyes hollow.

"Lauren, I've paid you back everything I owed. Now, can I take Shaina and leave?" he asked.

A sudden emptiness washed over me, as if none of it mattered anymore. I waved my hand and signaled for the guns to be lowered. Let them go.

As they passed in the doorway, I smiled. "Duncan, you'd better take her and disappear. Far away. If I ever see either of you again, I'll make sure she begs for death."

I believed he would listen.

After all, from the moment my father plucked him off the street, obedience had been drilled into his bones. Still, I never expected him to bring Shaina back to the house we once shared.

It was the first home we bought together, small but full of memories. Even after years of vacancy, I could never bring myself to sell it.

Now, it has become their love nest.

Duncan had prepared everything for Shaina and the baby. The crib we had once dreamed about—after countless nights of imagining it—was built by his own hands. He packed up all of my things and threw them out to make space.

In the meantime, Shaina filmed the entire process and shared the video on her social media like a trophy.

I watched Duncan clear away our past with a blank expression.

My heart, though numbed, still ached.

At the end of the video, he picked up a wooden box and smashed it against the floor.

My breath stopped, pain tearing through me, as if my organs were glass.

He needed to know what was inside, because that wooden box was our child's urn—the same urn I had clutched while sobbing until I passed out.

After a long while, hands shaking, I tapped the little heart on the video.

Just as I had done that, Shaina called me on video.

"Oops, sorry, Lauren! I didn't mean to make you cry again!" she said, laughing. "Duncan says things from dead babies are bad luck. I'm going to feed it to the dogs later."

Her mockery cut through the screen.

I laughed coldly. "You try it. See if I don't kill you where you stand."

But Shaina only smiled.

"Lauren, Duncan's worried you'll come after me and the baby again. So he's put over a hundred people on guard. He bought the whole building—every floor. Everyone inside is ours. You might be dangerous, but I don't think even you can break through now."

"Oh, by the way," Shaina added casually, "there's something I've always been curious about… You didn't really think it was you who got rid of that bastard child in your belly, did you?"

The camera flipped, revealing the corridor outside, packed wall to wall with bodyguards.

Duncan truly did love her. But she had overestimated him, and she had underestimated me.

Thirty minutes later, I cut a bloody path through the building.

When I kicked the door in, drenched in blood, Duncan was inside, his hands busy giving Shaina a massage. The moment he saw me, he instinctively shielded her in his arms.

His gaze held nothing but pure disgust.

"Lauren, when will you stop? How long do you plan to keep pestering me? Look at yourself, do you even look like a woman anymore? You're disgusting. Don't think that chasing me all the way here means I'll go back with you. Either kill me, or get the hell out."

I had no interest in listening to more of his nonsense. I raised my arm and fired the gun. A bullet tore through his shoulder, and he cried out in pain.

The barrel of my gun was now pressed between his brows.

I studied the stunned, disbelieving look in his eyes, but my voice was cold as death.

"Duncan. I'm giving you one chance to tell the truth. How. Did. My. Baby. Die?"