Wife Exposes Mistress's Lies

My phone buzzed against my desk during the quarterly board meeting, Lucian's name flashing on the screen. I let it go to voicemail, focusing instead on presenting the Henderson account projections to the twelve stone-faced executives around the mahogany table. These were numbers I'd compiled, strategies I'd developed, yet I knew Lucian would take credit later.

The phone buzzed again. Then again.

"Excuse me," I murmured to the board members, stepping into the hallway. Before I could even speak, Lucian's voice cut through the line like a blade.

"Genesis is in the hospital. Emergency surgery. I need you here now."

Not 'how are you,' not 'sorry to interrupt.' Just demands, as always.

"I'm in the middle of the Henderson presentation—"

"The doctors say she needs a blood transfusion. Her type is rare." His voice carried that edge of barely controlled panic I'd heard only twice before—once when his grandmother had her stroke, and once when our son had fallen from his bike. "You need to get here. Saint Mary's Hospital, room 314."

I pressed my back against the cool marble wall of the corridor. "Lucian, I have my own medical appointment this afternoon—"

"Cancel it." The words came sharp and final. "Genesis could die, Serenity. She needs your blood type."

My blood type. Not me. Just my blood.

"I'm not a walking blood bank," I said quietly, watching through the glass doors as the board members checked their watches, their patience wearing thin.

"No?" His laugh held no warmth. "Then maybe our son can help instead. He's got the same type, doesn't he? I could always pick him up from school—"

The threat hung in the air like poison. My hand tightened around the phone until my knuckles went white. "Don't you dare."

"Then get here. Now."

The line went dead.

I stood there for a moment, my reflection staring back from the darkened window across the hall. Five years of marriage, and he'd just threatened to use our eight-year-old son as a blood donor for his mistress. One hundred and two.

I returned to the boardroom, my smile perfectly composed. "Gentlemen, I apologize, but there's been a family emergency. I'll have the complete Henderson analysis on your desks by tomorrow morning."

---

Saint Mary's Hospital smelled like disinfectant and broken dreams. I found room 314 after twenty minutes of navigating sterile corridors, my heels clicking against the linoleum like a countdown.

Genesis lay propped against white pillows, her usually perfect blonde hair artfully tousled, wearing a hospital gown that somehow looked fashionable on her. She'd even managed to apply lip gloss. When she saw me, her eyes widened with what might have been surprise or calculation.

"Serenity! You came." Her voice carried that breathy quality men seemed to find irresistible. "I'm so grateful. The doctors say—"

"Where's Lucian?"

"Getting coffee. He's been here for hours, so worried." She touched her stomach delicately. "The pain was unbearable. I thought I was dying."

I took the chair beside her bed, studying her face. Her color looked perfectly healthy, her breathing steady. "What exactly is wrong with you?"

"Severe abdominal cramping. The doctors think it might be appendicitis, but they need to run more tests." She shifted against her pillows, wincing dramatically. "I'm just so scared, you know? If something happened to me..."

Her phone buzzed on the bedside table. She glanced at it, and her entire demeanor shifted—her eyes softened, a genuine smile playing at her lips.

"Excuse me for just one second," she murmured, answering the call. "Hello, darling."

I went very still.

"I miss you too," Genesis continued, her voice dropping to an intimate whisper. "This weekend can't come fast enough. I can't wait to see you again." She giggled—actually giggled—like a schoolgirl with her first crush. "The reservation at the Ritz is confirmed for Saturday night? Perfect. I love you too."

She ended the call and looked up to find me watching her intently. The color drained from her cheeks.

"That was... my sister," she said quickly. "She's planning a surprise party for my mother."

"Your sister calls you darling?"

Genesis's laugh sounded forced. "We're very close."

A nurse entered before I could respond, wheeling in equipment for the blood draw. "Mrs. Carter? I'm Nancy. Thank you so much for coming in to help Ms. Willis. It's wonderful that you two have compatible blood types."

"Compatible types?" I looked between the nurse and Genesis. "How did you know we were compatible?"

Nancy smiled brightly as she prepared the needle. "Oh, it's in Ms. Willis's employment file. She was specifically hired because her blood type matched yours—a precaution in case you needed a donor during your pregnancy complications. Very forward-thinking of the company, really."

The words hit me like ice water. Genesis's face had gone completely white now, her earlier performance forgotten.

"I don't understand," I said slowly.

"Well, with your history of difficult pregnancies and hemorrhaging, having a backup donor on staff made perfect sense. Ms. Willis was quite willing to help when she applied for the position."

I stared at Genesis, pieces clicking into place with sickening clarity. Her hiring. Her convenient presence during every crisis. Her matching blood type.

I wasn't just Lucian's wife.

I was Genesis's backup blood supply.