You Murdered My Mother for Your Mistres, Now You Must Pay the Price

I covered my mouth tightly, leaning against the wall as my body trembled uncontrollably.

Tears kept rolling down because I still couldn't believe that Henry and Willa had teamed up to murder my mother.

Suddenly, my phone charm slipped from my hand and hit the floor with a sharp clink. The sound jolted me back to my senses. I forced myself to my feet and rushed toward the elevator.

In the dark, deserted early morning, I made my way to a park beside the hotel. As soon as I arrived, my legs gave out and I dropped to my knees, all the strength in my body completely drained.

Overwhelmed by agony, I screamed at the lake in front of me.

Just then, two unfamiliar women emerged from the dark shadows behind the trees. They approached me relentlessly, a cold smile playing on their lips.

While my mind was still in turmoil, they lunged at me, grabbing my hair.

They pinned me to the ground, punching and kicking me until I felt like I was going to die right there.

When they were done, they calmly took out their phones. After the camera flash flickered twice in my eyes, they turned and left.

I dragged myself home, covered in wounds, only to find Henry had returned first.

The moment I entered, Henry's expression froze, his eyes instantly filling with rage. "Suzanne, where did you go today?"

My breath caught in my throat. I didn't want to answer, but that man gripped my chin tightly, forcing me to look up. When his finger brushed the cut at the corner of my mouth, a sharp sting shot through me and I couldn’t help but flinch.

"Don't touch me, Henry!" I cried out.

The thought of him having just slept with Willa in that hotel room, coupled with the truth about my mother's death, made his touch feel utterly disgusting.

My attempt to dodge him made his face turn completely dark.

Just then, Willa walked out of the bathroom wearing the new nightgown I had just bought. Seeing the injuries on my body, her eyes widened and she grabbed my hand while feigning deep concern.

"Suzanne, what happened? Why are there so many red marks on your face and arms?"

Even so, I noticed a hint of smugness in Willa's expression. Could it be that the two women who attacked me tonight were sent by her?

As soon as Willa spoke, Henry's face turned deathly pale with anger. He spoke slowly, as if he might strangle me in the next second.

"Did you get these bruises while fooling around with some other man? How many shameful things did you do behind my back while I was gone this week?"

Willa then tried to reassure him. "Henry, please calm down. I know these scars look like they were made with some kind of specialized tool, but is it possible you've misunderstood Suzanne?"

Henry clenched his fists tightly, his chest heaving with anger. "As a professional doctor, I'm not so incompetent that I can't distinguish between assault wounds and something else. Suzanne, don't you even want to explain yourself?"

His words stripped away any desire I had to explain. I looked into his eyes calmly and said, "I have nothing to explain. You can believe whatever you want."

The words had barely left my mouth when Henry raised his hand and slapped me across the face. His eyes burned with fury as he stared at me.

"How dare you say that! During this week I was gone, you claimed you were being discharged from the hospital after a car accident, yet today you show up at home covered in these marks. Suzanne, you are truly shameless!"

Tears slid down my cheeks as I felt the muscles in my face contort slightly. My heart pounded with pain and my vision blurred like a fog, obscuring Henry's face.

"Then what about you, Henry? What were you doing this past week? And why did Willa come home with you? Why don't you explain any of this?"

I lost control and shouted at the top of my lungs, looking like a madwoman.

Henry frowned, watching my breakdown with cold indifference and clear displeasure.

"Why should I explain anything I do to you? You, on the other hand, are skilled at sharing a bed while dreaming of someone else and playing with people's feelings, aren't you?"

As he spoke, he picked up the notebook I kept in the safe and waved it in the air.

"So this is your 'affection.' While pursuing me, you were pouring your heart out to this 'Mr. H' in your diary. Suzanne, you make me feel sick!"

Henry had finally discovered this diary. Back when I was pursuing him, I'd poured my heartfelt love into its pages.

Afraid someone might find it, I used the initial H to refer to him. I never imagined that now, it would be misunderstood and turned into a weapon to humiliate me.