Ruthless Husband Poisoned Me & Our Daughter, but Killed by His Mistress’ Son

On my daughter's 18th birthday, we were both poisoned.

The damage to my kidneys was severe—I would have to undergo dialysis for the rest of my life. But for Sophie, it was worse. Her voice, the very thing she cherished most, was gone. She could no longer sing.

A week later, the national singing competition was set to begin. Sophie had been the favorite to win, the one everyone had their eyes on. Now, she couldn't even speak properly. Her voice was hoarse, fragile, broken.

In our darkest moment, when we were drowning in despair, Harris Gilliam, my husband, held my hands and promised, with tears in his eyes, "I will take care of you both for the rest of your lives."

But then, by sheer accident, I saw his chat messages with Wilma Jansen on his phone.

Wilma: [Harris, thank you for poisoning Sophie's voice. Without her, my son will definitely win the championship in the next final.]

Harris: [Sophie is too talented. The only way Yulian has a chance is if she’s out of the picture. For you and our son, I’m willing to do anything.]

Wilma: [But what if Sophie and her mother find out?]

Harris: [They never will. They can't survive without me. They'll have no choice but to live under my mercy.]

I felt my entire body go cold. The truth was like a blade slicing through me. Harris had planned everything.

He had poisoned us—his own daughter—just to clear the path for Wilma’s son. Every word of comfort, every tear he shed, had been a lie. There was no love in his heart for us. Only Wilma and her son, Yulian McGregor.

And Sophie... Sophie had lost everything because of him.

——

Since that day, she had locked herself in her room, refusing to eat, refusing to drink. The girl who used to fill our home with music now sat in silence, her dreams shattered. She hated me.

She believed it was my fault. That my carelessness had led to the poisoning. That I had ruined her life.

Tonight, I gathered the courage to bring her some medicine. But the moment I stepped into her room, she knocked it right out of my hands.

"Get out!" she shouted, her voice raw, painful. "I don’t want to see you!"

Tears welled in my eyes. "Sophie, please... I—"

"You ruined everything!" Her fists clenched as she trembled with rage. "I practiced day and night for that stage. I worked so hard! And now? It’s all gone because of you!"

She let out a bitter laugh, but it cracked halfway, like she was choking on her own grief. "You’re not worthy of being my mother."

I reached for her, desperate to hold her, to comfort her. But she slapped my hand away, recoiling as if I were something disgusting.

"Sophie, it's not like that," I pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper. "I swear, I would never—"

"Stop talking!" she cut me off. "I don't want to hear any of your excuses!" And with that, she slammed the door in my face.

I slumped to the floor, completely drained, my tears falling uncontrollably.

Harris was the reason my kidneys were failing. He was the reason Sophie lost her voice. Yet now, my own daughter blamed me for everything. She hated me.

Her yelling must have carried through the house because Harris strolled out of his room, looking irritated, like I was the problem here.

"Our daughter is already suffering, and you're just making it worse," he said, his voice full of blame.

Then, without another glance in my direction, he walked into Sophie’s room. His whole tone changed. He spoke softly, gently, like the perfect father. "Sophie, sweetheart, I know it’s hard. But I'm here. I’ll always be here."

I could hear her crying. But this time, she let him stay.

Just like that, he became her safe place. The father she depended on. The only person she thought she could trust.

But what would she do if she found out the truth? That the father she clung to had destroyed her dream? That he was the reason she could never sing again? I didn’t even want to imagine it.

A little while later, Harris got a phone call. He listened for a second, then muttered something and grabbed his coat.

"I have to go," he said, already heading for the door. Then, as if remembering something, he added, "I'll be back tonight. I’ll pick up Sophie’s favorite chocolate cake."

A week ago, the doctor told us she needed to cut back on sweets. Harris had nodded and acted like he cared. And now here he was, completely ignoring that warning like it meant nothing.

The moment he left, I wiped my face and reached for my phone. My hands were still shaking as I opened Wilma’s social media account.

Right there, a fresh post appeared, captioned: [The final is the day after tomorrow. I hope Yulian does his best and gets the results he deserves. Son, you are my greatest pride.]

I stared at the words, my stomach twisting. While Sophie was locked in her room, devastated, Wilma and her son were celebrating. All because of what Harris had done to us.