When Your Lover Surpassed You, You Destroyed Them

Paisley's POV

But youth was restless. She couldn’t keep her temper and came to find me herself.

“Have you been looking for him lately? I’ll tell you straight, he’s with me.” She arrived in a fitted dress, all smug satisfaction. “You really thought getting rid of my baby would solve everything?”

She leaned in, pride written all over her smile. “As long as his love is with me, you can take away every child I carry, and he’ll only love me more. He’s been trying even harder lately. Thanks for the assist, sis.”

Her low-cut blouse revealed a flawless neck and a half-exposed breast. There, countless kiss marks mapped her body, an open proclamation of how completely Geoffrey had loved her. She then cradled her flat belly like a trophy and announced, almost gleefully, “Too bad for you. I’m pregnant again.”

Not paying her any attention, I took a quiet sip of coffee while she perched on the custom sofa I’d had made, propping her chin in her hands. “I heard you and Geoffrey haven’t produced an heir in three years,” she said. “It's really hard to get pregnant, isn't it?”

She then laughed at something she found amusing. “Well, sometimes it really isn’t the man’s fault.”

The cup clicked on the table. Then she screamed.

The bodyguards stood frozen as Audrey clutched her stomach and bled from below.

“Paisley! You’ll pay for this!” she shrieked.

They dragged her toward the door while she tore at the air. “Paisley! Aren’t you afraid Geoffrey will get revenge on you for this?”

Fingertips tapped the marble tabletop as I replied coolly, “You should know, being a wife isn’t just about having a man’s love.”

That night, Geoffrey came home with dozens of men, filling an entire floor of the estate. He was never so showy unless he was facing a difficult opponent. Clearly, this time, he was on edge.

We sat at opposite ends of a long negotiation table, each flanked by dozens of people.

“Twice now,” he said, his long fingers rapping the marble. “Paisley, you should apologize to her.”

“She came to my house like a fool, so she must take responsibility for her recklessness,” I shot back.

Half his face was swallowed in shadow, expression unreadable.

“Do you think your wife will simply endure quietly if some mistress shows up?” I asked.

A lighter flared in the dark as I lit a cigarette and let the ember glow for a moment. “Geoffrey, remember all those years clawing your way through the business world? I bled with you, right? So why would I let that canary stand opposite me? Are you insane, or is she?”

For the nth time, I slid a divorce agreement across to him and blew a smoke ring. “This is your last chance.”

Moonlight washed the marble but not our faces. We stared at each other out of the darkness.

“You helped me kill my monster of a father and storm the household for me when I was a child. In exchange, I gave up a child for you and bled for you. So now, let’s end this cleanly, Geoffrey. We both walk away. No debts, no blood left owing. This is the best thing we could do.”

“The best thing,” he laughed low, echoing in the dark.

He then picked up the papers. The lighter flared against a cigar as he watched the pages curl and blacken. As such, the divorce agreement turned to ash.

“After tonight, she won’t appear before you again.” He blew the ashes out, drifting in the air.

Then he stood, gathered his men, and left the estate in a slow, imposing procession.