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

"No wonder Sophie hates you more and more," Harris said, his tone sharp but filled with smug satisfaction. He patted her back reassuringly, but the glint of triumph in his eyes was impossible to miss.

"Dad, she’s trying to push me over the edge!" Sophie sobbed, clinging to him like he was her only safe place. "She doesn’t love me! She never has! All these years, everything she did was fake!"

"Alright, alright, don’t cry," Harris murmured, stroking her hair. "As long as I’m here, no one will ever hurt you."

Then he turned to me, and for a brief second, I caught it—that flicker of amusement, of satisfaction. He was enjoying this.

I watched as Sophie finally cried herself to sleep against his chest.

Once she was out, Harris looked at me again, his voice dripping with fake sympathy. "Don’t take it to heart," he said smoothly. "She’s just upset. You should be more patient with her. Try not to stress her out."

A lump formed in my throat. My heart clenched with something bitter and unbearable. I swallowed it down.

"Of course," I said, forcing a smile. "I understand."

***

The day of the finals arrived. I should’ve stayed home, but instead, I found myself walking into the venue with Harris and Sophie.

Well. Not with them. Sophie clung to his arm the entire way, her grip tight like he was her anchor. She didn’t look at me. Didn’t acknowledge me.

I may as well have been a ghost.

The moment we stepped inside, a group of contestants spotted her. Their expressions changed immediately. "Look who decided to show up," one of them sneered.

"Still think you can win like this?" another laughed mockingly.

"With that broken, scratchy voice of yours? That’d be a miracle."

"By the way," a girl added with a smirk, "have you figured out who ruined your chances yet? When you do, make sure to thank them for me."

My stomach twisted. I turned to Sophie. Her face was paper-white. Her fists clenched at her sides, and her breathing turned shallow. She wanted to fire back, to say something—anything—but no words came out.

Anger surged in me. "Do you have any decency?" I snapped at them. "You think this is funny?"

Before I could say anything else, Sophie shoved me—hard. "Shut up!" she screamed.

My breath caught in my throat.

"You did this to me!" she shrieked, her voice shaking. "You ruined my life! You!"

And then, before I could even process her words, her hand flew up. The slap landed across my face, hard and fast. My ears rang from the impact.

Everything around me blurred. The voices faded into a distant hum. I slowly lifted my hand to my stinging cheek, my fingers brushing over the heat of it.

Then I looked at her. The girl standing in front of me, the one who had just hit me without hesitation, felt like a stranger. Someone I didn’t know at all.

"Everyone, listen up!" Sophie’s voice rang out, sharp and furious. "This awful woman poisoned me and stole my voice!"

The crowd fell silent for a second—just a second—before a wave of gasps and murmurs swept through them.

"You don’t deserve to be my mother!" Sophie kept going, her chest rising and falling with every word. "Get out of here! I don’t ever want to see you again! You deserve every bit of this!"

My stomach dropped.

She planned this. This wasn’t about watching the competition. This was the real reason she agreed to come.

And just like that, the floodgates burst open.

"She’s her mother, how could she do that?"

"Poisoning her own kid? That’s disgusting!"

"She should be locked up!"

"People like her don’t deserve to be parents!"

Spit flew in my direction, and someone actually hit me.

I flinched, but I didn’t move. I couldn’t.

The words, the accusations—they crashed over me like a tidal wave, pulling me under, suffocating me. My vision blurred. My body trembled. My nails dug into my palms, but I felt nothing except the crushing weight of their hatred.

Then, through the haze, a familiar figure emerged. Wilma.

She stepped out from the crowd, her lips curling into the smuggest smile I’d ever seen. Taking her time, she walked up to me, tilting her head like she was so concerned.

"Poor Sophie," she sighed, fake sympathy dripping from her voice. "Imagine being stuck with a mom like you."

"If I were you, I’d just end it," Wilma sneered.

Sophie nodded, her expression twisted with anger. "Exactly. People like you don’t deserve to live. If I die, at least I won’t have to see your disgusting face every day!"

The pain in my kidneys flared so hard I could barely stand. My legs gave out, and I stumbled backward. Right into Harris.

For a second, I thought maybe he would catch me. But no. He turned away and shoved me aside like I was garbage.

My head slammed into the wall, and my vision went dark for a moment. A ringing sound filled my ears, drowning everything else out.

Through the haze, I heard his voice—calm, firm, heartless.

"Since Sophie feels this way, let’s just get a divorce. A woman like you doesn’t deserve to be her mother. And you sure as hell don’t deserve to be my wife."

He looked almost... relieved. Like he had been waiting for this moment. I forced myself up, my entire body screaming in pain. I didn’t cry. Didn’t beg. I just gave him a weak smile.

"Fine. I’ll make it easy for you." And then I walked away.