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While My Husband Cheated, I Took His Company Novel Cover

While My Husband Cheated, I Took His Company

After enduring twenty-one grueling days of sleeping on an office couch and working until sunrise to finalize their IPO filing, she carried a secret: she was expecting their first child. She sacrificed her health for their future, only for Christmas Eve to expose her husband's devastating betrayal. Now, her devotion transforms into a high-stakes mission of vengeance. She will no longer play the supportive wife; instead, she is going to seize his entire corporate empire.
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Chapter 3

Carter's office door was open when I got there. He didn't look up.

"Close it," he said.

I did. I stood in front of his desk and waited. He was scrolling through something on his tablet. His jaw worked like he was chewing the inside of his cheek. A habit he'd picked up in the last year. I used to reach over and touch his face when he did it. I used to say, *You'll hurt yourself.*

I didn't say anything now.

He set the tablet down. He looked at me. Not quite at my eyes. Somewhere around my collarbone.

"We need to finalize the stage arrangement for the twenty-fourth," he said. "IPO ceremony. Plaza ballroom. You've seen the schedule."

"I wrote the schedule," I said.

He blinked. Like he'd forgotten. Maybe he had.

"Right," he said. "So you know the setup. I'll be center stage. Jazmin will be seated beside me as strategic coordinator. She's been handling the investor relations, the press prep, all the public-facing logistics. It makes sense for her to be visible."

I pressed my thumb against my wrist. I counted to four.

"What role will I hold?" I asked.

He straightened a pen on his desk. It was already straight.

"You'll be in the audience," he said. "You're the back-end person, Samantha. You always have been. The infrastructure, the filing, the compliance work—that's your strength. But the ceremony is about optics. About telling a story the market understands." He looked up. Still not at my eyes. "Let's not make this awkward."

I looked at him. I looked at the man I had carried boxes with. The man who used to angle the lamp so I got the better light. The man who had promised me, once, that we were building this together.

I looked at him for three full seconds.

Then I nodded once.

"Understood," I said.

I turned and walked out. I closed the door behind me. I walked down the hall past Raymond Cole's office, past the conference room where I'd spent twenty-one days preparing the filing that would make Carter Lawrence a public figure and a very rich man.

I walked into my windowless ten-by-twelve room. I locked both locks. I sat down at my metal desk under the buzzing light.

I opened my laptop. I opened the file I'd started three weeks ago. The one labeled *IPO Day Remarks – FINAL.*

I read it through once. Twice. I made three small edits. I saved it. I closed the laptop.

I put my hand on my stomach. Very gently. Just for a second.

*You'll be in the audience.*

I smiled.

No, I thought. I really won't.

---

The prenatal appointment was at four-thirty on Thursday. I scheduled it during Carter's standing board prep session. He wouldn't notice I was gone. He hadn't noticed I was pregnant.

The clinic was in a brownstone on the Upper East Side. Quiet. Expensive. The kind of place where they didn't ask if your husband was coming.

The ultrasound technician was a woman in her forties with kind eyes and cold hands. She squeezed the gel onto my stomach and I flinched.

"Sorry," she said. "I'll warm it next time."

Next time. Like I was the kind of person who had a next time. Like I was building something that would last longer than three weeks.

She moved the wand slowly. The screen flickered. Gray and white and something moving in the center. Small. Curled. A heartbeat I could see before I could hear it.

"There," she said softly. "Do you want to know?"

I looked at the screen. I looked at the small shape that was mine. Only mine.

"Yes," I said.

"It's a girl."

I didn't cry. I didn't make a sound. I just lay there on the table with the cold gel on my stomach and the paper crinkling under me, and I felt something I hadn't felt in weeks.

Not grief. Not anger.

Certainty.

The technician printed a photo. She handed it to me in a small envelope. "Congratulations," she said.

I nodded. I got dressed. I walked out into the cold January afternoon with the envelope in my bag and my coat buttoned all the way up.

I sat in my car for a long time before I started the engine.

I pulled a pen from the glove compartment. I found a receipt in my bag and turned it over. I wrote in the careful cursive I only used for things I meant to keep.

*Eliana Morgan.*

I looked at it. I said it out loud once, just to hear how it sounded.

Then I folded the paper in half. I put it in my wallet behind my driver's license.

I started the car. I drove back to the office. I worked until midnight.

When I finally left, the building was dark except for one light. Carter's office. I could see it from the street. I stood on the sidewalk and looked up.

Jazmin's coat was still draped over the chair by the window.

I got in my car. I drove home. I unlocked the door to the apartment Carter and I had bought together five years ago. I walked past the furniture we'd chosen together. I went into the bedroom and lay down on my side of the bed.

I put my hand on my stomach.

*Eliana,* I thought. *You're going to meet your mother on January twenty-fourth.*

*And she's going to be magnificent.*

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