My Husband’s Mistress Drained My Life to Bear His Heirs

I woke to the sound of hushed voices outside my bedroom door. The guest house was quiet at this hour, with only the occasional creak of the old floorboards breaking the silence. But these voices were different—urgent, secretive.

"She's sleeping," Sydney whispered. "Now's your chance."

My eyes snapped open. Sydney wouldn't betray me. Which meant...

I slipped silently from the bed and moved to the door, pressing my ear against the cool wood.

"Are you sure this will work?" Kaia's voice, trembling with desperation.

"It has to," came the reply—Dr. Whitfield's assistant, whom I recognized from previous visits. "The curse is weakening. We need to reinforce the bond."

I heard the soft rustle of cloth, then a sharp snick—scissors cutting through fabric.

"Take it," Kaia hissed. "Take it now."

I yanked the door open just as Sydney stepped back, her phone held high, recording everything.

"Stealing my hair?" I asked coldly. "How primitive."

Kaia spun around, her face contorted with rage and fear. In her hand was a lock of my hair—cut from the brush I'd carelessly left on the dresser.

"The Gemini Blood Pact requires a physical connection," she spat, backing toward the door. "You've been fighting it somehow. This will ensure you feel every moment of my children's birth."

Sydney stepped forward, her phone still recording. "Is that why you've been experiencing pain? Because Mrs. Matthews has been manipulating the curse?"

Kaia's eyes widened as she realized her mistake. She'd just confirmed everything on camera.

"You bitch," she hissed at me. "You think you're so clever."

I smiled—not the warm smile of the woman I once was, but something colder, sharper. "I'm not playing defense anymore, Kaia."

---

The night before the Christmas Gala, I stood in the bathroom, water cascading over my body. I twisted the knob to the left, and the scalding heat seared my skin. Then quickly to the right—ice-cold water that stole my breath.

Back and forth I went, alternating between extremes. Each change sent shockwaves through my system, and with each shock, I knew Kaia was feeling it too.

"Again," I whispered to myself, forcing my body to endure the contrast.

Downstairs, I could hear the commotion—Kaia's cries of pain, Eleanor's panicked voice calling for Dr. Whitfield, Luca's frustrated demands for explanations.

"She can't attend the rehearsal dinner," Sydney reported, appearing in the doorway with a towel. "Fever of 102. Chills so bad they had to wrap her in heating blankets."

I stepped out of the shower, my body pink from the heat and cold. "Perfect timing."

"The staff is whispering," Sydney added, handing me the towel. "They're saying you've put a hex on her."

"Let them talk," I said, drying my hair with deliberate slowness. "It's almost over."

Luca appeared in the doorway, his face a mask of concern and accusation. "What have you done to her?"

I met his gaze steadily. "Nothing she hasn't done to me."

"She's carrying our children!" he hissed. "Your jealousy is putting them at risk."

Something inside me—something that had once loved this man—died completely in that moment. I laughed, a sound so cold and hollow it didn't seem like mine at all.

The laughter startled him. He took a step back, his eyes widening with something new—fear.

---

The morning of the Christmas Gala dawned clear and cold. I stood at the window of my dressing room, watching the sun glitter on the snow-covered grounds of the estate.

"Everything is prepared," Sydney said, entering with a garment bag. "The car will be waiting at the service entrance at midnight. Luggage is already loaded."

I nodded, my mind perfectly calm. "And the documents?"

"In the safe in the car. Once you sign them at the lawyer's office tomorrow, you'll be free."

Free. The word tasted sweet on my tongue.

I moved to the vanity and opened the jewelry box, selecting a single piece—a blood-red ruby pendant that caught the light like a drop of frozen blood.

"The dress," Sydney said, unzipping the garment bag.

The gown emerged like a creature from its chrysalis—a creation of blood-red silk that seemed to flow like liquid. I touched it gently, feeling its cool surface against my fingertips.

"It's time," I said softly.

I slipped into the dress, watching as it molded to my body like a second skin. The color was striking against my pale complexion—the white of bone, the red of blood.

Sydney helped arrange my hair, pinning it up in an elegant chignon that exposed the long line of my neck.

"You look..." she hesitated.

"Like what I am," I finished for her.

I turned to the mirror, studying the woman who looked back at me. She was beautiful in a terrible way—all sharp edges and cold perfection.

"Goodbye, Valeria," I whispered to my reflection. "The old you dies tonight."

The woman in the mirror smiled back at me, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.

Tonight, at the Christmas Gala, I would destroy them all.