My Husband's Mistress Blames Me for Her Sister's Death
Chapter 1
The year I felt most unloved, Benjamin Carter tattooed my favorite rose on his chest.
He promised me, “Love will never be my shackle.”
Three years ago, I gave up my career and married him for love.
Three years later, I decided to leave him behind.
I looked at the tattoo on his chest, now distorted, and remembered the moment he kicked my seven-month-pregnant belly.
Taking a deep breath, I finally spoke the words: “Let’s divorce.”
Benjamin frowned, his voice laced with disbelief.
“Amelia, you want to divorce me over a tattoo?”
I met his gaze, my tone icy.
“Yes. Just for this.”
The venomous snake entwined around the rose had suffocated it, much like he had suffocated me.
It was time to let go.
Alone, I went to the hospital and made the painful decision to remove the baby I could no longer protect.
That evening, Benjamin returned home reeking of alcohol.
His shirt was stained, and without a word, I reached to unbutton it, intending to clean it.
But as the fabric slipped away, I froze.
The once-delicate, vibrant rose on his chest had been consumed.
A venomous snake wrapped tightly around it, its fangs poised to tear the rose apart.
The ink was fresh, the red marks of the needle still visible.
My heart raced wildly, but the moment shattered when Benjamin’s impatient voice cut through the air.
“Don’t touch me. I’m sleeping in the second bedroom.”
Before I could ask why, he slammed the door behind him.
I sat in silence, my eyes drifting to his phone as its screen lit up.
“This is so funny hahaha.”
A woman’s intuition whispered that this wasn’t innocent.
I reached for the phone, but the lock screen wouldn’t budge.
The password had been changed—just like everything else about him.
Benjamin’s voice cut through the room, sharp and impatient.
“Amelia, who the hell gave you permission to touch my phone?”
I held my ground, my voice steady.
“Who is she?”
He snatched the phone from my hands and turned his back to me, his fingers tapping rapidly on the screen. He didn’t answer.
“Benjamin, who is she?” I repeated, louder this time.
Without warning, he shoved me hard. I stumbled, my stomach slamming into the edge of the cabinet. Pain surged through me, leaving me gasping on the floor.
“Benjamin, my stomach hurts,” I whimpered, clutching at the ache radiating through my body.
He looked down at me with cold indifference, his phone still in his hand.
“Stop pretending. Don’t think I’ll go easy on you just because you’re pregnant.”
A notification lit up his screen, and I saw the faintest smile flicker across his face—a smile he never gave me anymore.
His cruelty pierced deeper than my pain.
“He’s your child too. How can you be so heartless?” I managed to say, my voice trembling.
His gaze was icy, devoid of any guilt.
“Amelia, you know better than anyone how this child came to be.”
He sneered.
“If you wanted this baby, don’t expect me to take responsibility.”
My body ached, and panic surged as I felt warmth spreading beneath me. Blood.
“Benjamin, please,” I begged.
“Take me to the hospital. Please, I’m in pain!”
He didn’t move. Instead, his phone rang, and he answered it with a voice I barely recognized—gentle, soft, filled with warmth.
“Isabelle, I’ll be there soon.”
Desperation clawed at me. I lunged for his phone, hoping to shatter it, to force him to see me. But he shoved me away again, harder this time.
Then his foot connected with my stomach. The scream tore from my throat, the agony unbearable.
His expression didn’t change.
“Amelia, you should be thankful I took her call. Otherwise, you’d regret it even more.”
Tears blurred my vision, but anger burned hotter than the pain.
“Divorce,” I spat, my voice hoarse.
“Benjamin, I want a divorce!”
He laughed bitterly, shaking his head as he dressed.
“You’re making a fuss over nothing. Divorce? Over a tattoo?”
He looked at me as though I were nothing.
“Are you that cheap, Amelia?”
I let out a hollow laugh, my chest tight with fury and heartbreak.
“Yes. For the tattoo. For everything it means. I’m done.”
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