My Savior Husband Hurt me the most

His head snapped to the side, a sharp silence filling the room.

The only thing louder than the crack of my palm against his cheek was the sound of my vengeance beginning.

Matteo inhaled sharply, his jaw tightening as he turned back to me, his eyes dark with something unreadable.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he growled.

I let out a bitter laugh, my chest burning with rage. “Wrong? You dare ask me that after you killed our daughter?”

His face twisted with frustration. “I didn’t kill her, Cassandra.”

“Yes, you did,” I hissed, taking a step closer. “You had a choice, Matteo! You chose Candice’s son over Amber. You let our baby die.”

He shook his head, rubbing a hand down his face. “It wasn’t that simple—”

“It was,” I cut him off. “It was exactly that simple. It was one kidney, one life to save. And you didn’t choose her.”

Candice shifted beside him, wrapping her arms protectively around her son. “Cassandra, please—”

I snapped my gaze to her, my blood boiling. “Don’t. Don’t you dare say my name like we’re still sisters.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “I didn’t mean for this to happen—”

“Oh, you never mean for anything, do you?” My voice dripped with venom. “You never meant to steal my fiancé. You never meant to take everything from me.”

She opened her mouth, but I didn’t let her speak.

“You should’ve been the one to die,” I whispered.

Candice flinched.

Matteo stepped between us. “That’s enough.”

I let out a breathless laugh. “Of course, you’d defend her. You always have.”

His hands curled into fists at his sides. “I was trying to save a child, Cassandra.”

“So was I!” I screamed. “But you didn’t care, did you? You just—” My voice broke. “You just let her go.”

Silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating.

Then, a sharp cry pierced the air.

Candice’s son.

Matteo’s body tensed immediately. He turned away from me like I wasn’t even there, moving toward the crib.

He scooped the boy up in his arms, cradling him gently, whispering soothing words as he rocked him back and forth.

The way he used to hold Amber.

I felt the breath get knocked out of my lungs.

For a split second, it was like she was still here. Like he was holding our daughter. But no—Amber was gone.

And this child, his son, had taken her place.

Something inside me shattered.

“I want a divorce,” I whispered.

Matteo didn’t even flinch.

Didn’t look at me.

Didn’t care.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. “Did you hear me?”

Still, nothing.

That was my answer.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing back the tears that burned behind my eyes. I had already cried enough for him. For her.

I turned on my heel and stormed out.

Later that night, the house was silent. Candice and Matteo had gone to sleep. The air was thick with the remnants of the day’s chaos, but I felt nothing now. No grief. No pain. Only the burning weight of knowing—

I had been robbed of everything.

I had planned to leave. I had even packed my bags.

But leaving wasn’t enough.

Not anymore.

I wasn’t going to let them win.

Moving silently through the hallway, I reached Candice’s room. The door was slightly ajar, the dim light from her bedside lamp casting a glow across the floor.

I stepped inside.

She was sitting on the edge of her bed, rubbing her eyes sleepily. When she saw me, her brow furrowed. “Cassandra?”

I shut the door behind me. Slowly. Carefully.

She sat up straighter. “What do you want?”

I didn’t answer.

I reached into my pocket, my fingers closing around the cold, smooth handle of the scalpel I had taken from the study earlier that evening.

Candice’s eyes widened.

She scrambled to her feet. “What are you doing?”

I took a slow step forward. “Do you know what I found today?”

Her breath hitched. With a swift motion, I lifted it, exposing her stomach.

A scar.

Faint, but there.

Proof.

Candice gasped, trying to shove me away, but I was faster. I slammed her back against the dresser, pinning her wrists.

“Cassandra, stop!” she cried.

I lifted the scalpel, pressing it just below the scar.

Her breathing grew ragged, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

“I know the truth now,” I whispered, my grip tightening.

Her lips parted, her entire body trembling.

“That’s my kidney,” I said, my voice laced with cold fury.

Tears streaked down her face. “Cassandra, please—”

I pressed the blade against her skin, my heart pounding with nothing but pure, unfiltered rage.

“I’m going to take it back now.”