The Billionaire's Betrayed Wife My Revenge Starts Now

"Mildred, you're carrying our baby—is this your Valentine's gift to me? I love it so much."

I froze, my gaze dropping to that worn, dog-eared test result.

Dominic grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the door, his voice brimming with the excitement of a first-time father.

"Come on, let's go pick out baby clothes and a crib right now."

I didn't move. My voice came out cold—terrifyingly so.

"Dominic, we're broke. We can't afford a child."

His spine went rigid. He'd finally remembered the bankruptcy charade he'd so carefully constructed.

Panic flickered in his eyes. He crouched down, pressing his face to my belly, and spoke with forced conviction.

"Just give me a few more days. Things might turn around soon."

A dense, stinging ache spread through my chest. I pulled my lips into a bitter smile, watching his pathetic performance.

A shrill ringtone shattered the moment.

I caught a glimpse of the name flashing on his screen: Kitten.

Acid churned in my stomach.

Dominic silenced the call and flashed me a smile.

"Babe, the little cake I ordered for you is here. I'll run down and grab it—wait for me."

He didn't even glance my way before rushing out.

Tears flooded my eyes. I stood in the doorway.

From the dark stairwell landing came the sound of breathless moaning—and Dominic's low, teasing voice.

"Didn't I just satisfy you? Why are you here again?"

"I'm warning you—my wife is pregnant now. You can't come looking for me anymore. If she finds out and it affects the baby, I won't let you off easy."

A girl's kittenish whimper drifted up, her voice so sweet it could melt bone.

"How won't you let me off? Keep me in bed forever? Make sure I can never leave you?"

His breathing grew heavier. Then came the sound of stumbling footsteps.

I clenched my fists, wanting to storm out and demand answers. Why had he betrayed me?

All these years of marriage, I'd used every connection my parents left me to build him into the respected Mr. Thorne everyone admired.

When his funding fell through, I sold every piece of my dowry and every memento my parents had left behind without a second thought.

Even after he pretended to go bankrupt, I stayed. Through every storm, I stood by his side.

I even gave up the baby I'd wanted so desperately.

I wanted to cut open his chest and see for myself—was his heart made of stone?

The clock on the wall ticked. Rain poured outside.

The ceiling grew damp, water seeping through. The whole room felt cold and hollow.

One in the morning. Dominic still wasn't home.

Three in the morning. Still no sound at the door.

I laughed at myself. I couldn't believe I'd still held out hope for him.

Four in the morning. My phone buzzed.

Even I didn't notice how desperately I grabbed for it.

But the screen didn't show an explanation for his absence. It showed a photo—intimate, unmistakable.

Dominic had his arm around a slender waist, fingers working at the clasp of her bra.

Suddenly I remembered our first time together.

He'd kissed my lips so tenderly, placed my palm over his heart, and whispered his promise.

"Mildred, my heart beats only for you. I will never betray you. You're the one I love most in this life."

Those words, once so full of devotion, now felt like a slap across my face.

They finally woke me up.

I dug out a phone number I'd sworn never to use again and typed a message.

"Uncle Raymond, I've changed my mind. I'm ready to come home and stay by Grandmother's side."

The reply came quickly. Just one word.

"Good."