mistresses baby 5

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Perhaps it was the cold fury in my eyes, the undisguised disgust, that finally made them drop the act. 

“We know you’re divorcing Carter,” my father said, his voice flat. “Legally, you’re entitled to a share of the assets. But Carter never truly loved you. In his heart, you were never really his wife. Take a couple million and 

walk away. Don’t be greedy.” 

I wasn’t surprised to hear those words come out of his mouth.. 

I looked at them, my expression like ice. “What is rightfully mine, I will take. All of it.” 

My father exploded. “Don’t you dare be so unreasonable! If you take half, what will be left for your sister?” 

My mother tugged at his sleeve, trying to silence him. 

I let out a cold, humorless laugh. “How much a mistress gets depends on the baby in her belly. I don’t know i that child is even Carter’s, but I do know his parents are not fools. Especially not after what they went throu gh. They don’t trust anyone anymore. For Claire to marry into that family? It will only happen if Carter gives up his entire inheritance.” 

From the moment I agreed to the divorce, I knew Claire would never set foot in the Prescott family home as 

its matriarch. 

The only reason Carter’s parents accepted me was because I had earned their trust. When their company was failing, when old friends turned their backs, I was the one who stayed. I worked in finance then, and I called in every favor I had, begging my contacts to give the Prescotts a lifeline. 

Then, as if things weren’t bad enough, Carter’s grandmother got sick. She needed money for surgery. I was the one who borrowed it for her. 

Those two years changed Carter’s parents. They had been kind, charitable people. After being betrayed and nearly ruined, they became guarded and suspicious of everyone-including their own son. I was the only 

exception. 

When the family business was back on its feet, stronger than ever, Carter’s grandmother, on her deathbed, made him promise to marry me. “If you let that girl go,” she’d told him, “you will regret it for the rest of your 

life.” 

I married Carter because he got down on one knee, a ring in his hand, and begged me to. 

Who the hell was Claire? 

Even if she was the great lost love of his life, after what she did, the Prescotts would never let her through 

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the door. Not unless Carter was willing to be cut off without a cent. And after I took my half of his personal assets, how much would he even have left? 

My defiance made my father’s face turn purple with rage. “That is your sister, not some mistress-” 

“She is a mistress!” 

My mother sighed, tears welling up on cue. “You’re all grown up now, your wings are strong. We can’t tell you what to do. Just know that we tried to warn you. I hope you don’t live to regret this.” 

I used to fall for that act every time. Her tears were the chains she used to bind me. 

Not anymore. “Don’t worry. I won’t.” 

My indifference seemed to finally crack her composure. “Fine!” she snapped. 

As they were leaving, they made one last attempt. “It’s clear you have no room for this family in your heart anymore, is that right? Then don’t bother coming back.” 

“Okay,” I said calmly. “Let’s sever ties, then. From now on, we go our separate ways. As for the cost of raising me… if I recall correctly, in the first year of my marriage, the Prescotts gave you over three million dollars and bought a villa for Leo. That was a gift to you, on my account. Consider it payment for services rendered. Our relationship is officially terminated.” 

My calmness was terrifying. 

My mother’s eyes widened in shock. She thought she still had that power over me, and I had just stripped it 

from her, completely and irrevocably. 

Before they could respond, I shut the door. 

They never tried to contact me again. 

Claire, on the other hand, launched a public smear campaign. 

First, she hired a popular online writer to craft a beautiful, tragic love story about her and Carter. Once the story went viral, she coyly liked the post, confirming that she and Carter were the real-life inspiration. 

Her plan was to slowly control the narrative, to paint herself as the romantic heroine and me as the wicked, scheming wife. 

For a little while, it worked. People were swept up in the romance of it all, especially the dramatic kidnapping 

plot, where the “evil wife” was exposed. 

But Claire was too impatient. Before public opinion had solidified, she publicly confirmed that the story was about her, Carter, and me. 

That’s when the internet detectives got to work. They dug up the official police statement from the kidnappi- 

ng a year ago. 

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