The Mistress Came to Kill Me on Our Anniversary Night

James clearly didn’t expect me to agree and sneered, “Who do you think you are? You’re threatening me? Do you honestly think anyone would want you after divorcing me? That bastard child of yours is unwanted trash!

“You worthless woman! You’re as stupid as a pig! I only put up with you because you were pregnant, but now you dare to push your luck?

“Where are you right now? Do you actually think I’m scared to divorce you just because you’re pregnant? Fine, divorce it is!”

I replied calmly, “Alright. I’ll send you the papers immediately. Don’t forget to sign them.”

Before he could say another word, I hung up.

His stream of insults reminded me once again that this man no longer loved me. The slap he’d planted on my face earlier still stung, not just my skin but my very soul.

The other patients in my hospital room were still chatting, oblivious to my pain.

“Hey, did you see the news? The CEO of that multinational corporation used a helicopter to rush his lover to the best private hospital. Isn’t that just the most romantic thing ever? I heard he even organized those city-wide fireworks displays just for her! So enviable.”

“You haven’t seen the latest update? Apparently, Mr. Fletcher had crates of fresh, nutrient-packed ingredients delivered just so he could cook for his beloved wife and help her recover faster!”

“They’re just so sweet! No wonder everyone’s talking about them. And they’ve been through so much together, both in love and at work. What an inspiring couple!”

…

I glanced down at my now-flat stomach. A dull, relentless pain throbbed in my abdomen.

When their conversation finally ended, I sighed in relief, glad to no longer hear the nauseating tales of James and his mistress.

It was then that the hospital director, the one who had donated blood to save me, came to check on me. He expressed his condolences for my miscarriage and urged me to stay strong.

Surprisingly, I felt a sense of relief at the loss of my child. At least this way, they wouldn’t have to suffer in the future and wouldn’t have to learn that their parents had never truly loved each other.

After the doctor left, I picked up my phone and checked the latest developments online. The hate against me had grown terrifying, fueled by the army of trolls James had paid to escalate things. They painted me as a venomous and spiteful woman, accusing me of harming Lisa out of jealousy.

Lisa even posted a video, tearfully pleading with netizens to stop harassing me. But every word she spoke subtly fanned the flames, escalating the hatred against me. Her carefully crafted performance turned me into public enemy number one, drawing more people into the fray to condemn me.

Any posts I made trying to explain myself were dismissed as lies, further fueling the outrage.

Over the following days, I could feel the hostile stares from those around me. Some even took to loudly insulting me in public, instantly garnering support from bystanders. Every day, I received hateful and threatening private messages from strangers across the internet.

I no longer had the strength to defend myself.

The day before I was discharged, I sent James a message, “Let’s go to the lawyer’s office tomorrow and finalize the divorce.”

He called back immediately.

“How dare you show your face again? I gave you a chance, but you refused to apologize to Lisa! Everything that’s happening now is your own fault!

“If it weren’t for Lisa’s kindness, begging me to show mercy, I would’ve reported you to the police by now! Fine, let’s get divorced. Afterward, your child will be nothing but an unwanted bastard!”

Before I could respond, he hung up.

Silently, I opened the home surveillance app on my phone and saved the footage from that day—the recording of Lisa showing up at my door with a knife. Then I contacted the property management office and retrieved the stairwell security footage, which showed her pushing me down the stairs.

The next day, after I was discharged, I went straight to the lawyer’s office with my documents in hand.

However, the one standing at the entrance was Lisa.

“Well, what a pleasant surprise. Isn’t this the great Mrs. Fletcher? Are you in such a rush to beg James not to divorce you?” Lisa’s lips curled into a mocking smile as she looked at me.

“You really are shameless, clinging to him like a parasite. What can a housewife like you possibly compete with me for? You’re nothing more than a stray dog that nobody wants. Your husband already does whatever I say.”

Her gaze dropped to my stomach, and her grin widened.

“What’s wrong? Couldn’t even protect your bastard child? How pitiful. Then again, even if you’d given birth, it wouldn’t have survived long. Who knows when it would’ve dropped dead…”

I had no interest in her taunts. Ignoring her, I tried to push past and enter the lawyer’s office.

But before I even touched her, Lisa threw herself to the ground, clutching her face as tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Lisa!”

James came rushing out of his car. From his perspective, it looked as though I had deliberately pushed her in a fit of rage.

Without hesitation, he stormed over and slapped me hard across the face. The force sent me tumbling to the ground, my cheek stinging as blood trickled down my face. He immediately pulled Lisa into his arms, gently soothing her as she sobbed.

He turned back to berate me but froze when his eyes landed on my flat stomach. His face went pale, and his voice trembled as he spoke.

“Where’s my child?!”