Bruce gently helped Tessa get dressed.
“I’ll head back first,” he said softly. “You should get some rest too.”
Tessa kissed him lightly on the lips and, with graceful elegance, picked up her purse and turned to leave. But just as she passed the corner where I was hiding, she suddenly paused.
“Miss Griffin,” she said smugly, “snooping around like this isn’t exactly classy.”
Knowing I’d been caught, I stepped out of the shadows with my head held high. Tessa folded her arms and gave me a slow, shameless once-over.
“Mr. Howard really knows how to please a woman,” she said with a sly smile. “I’m guessing you’ve never experienced that side of him, Miss Griffin. Poor thing. Allow me to give you a little peek into what you’ve been missing.”
I was stunned by her audacity.
“You’re nothing but a mistress,” I snapped. “And yet you act like you own the place. Is this what your parents taught you?”
She scoffed, eyes flashing.
“And you still think you’re worthy of being Mr. Howard’s wife? Don’t forget, you killed your own parents and brought ruin to the entire Griffin Family. If it weren’t for Mr. Howard’s kindness, you’d be begging on the streets by now.”
Her words cut deep, but she wasn’t finished.
“Elise, you—born without a mother’s love—dare to talk to me about dignity? The child I’m carrying is the rightful heir, the eldest son of the Howard Family. You think Mr. Howard wanted a child with you? He only gave in because his mother forced him!”
She leaned closer, voice dripping with venom.
“The latecomer overtakes the early bird, sweetheart. Soon, you’ll be out on the streets—and I’ll be the one he calls ‘Mrs. Howard.’”
Her sugary voice, sharp as razors, buzzed in my ears. After over twenty years of being with Bruce, my childhood sweetheart, I had been completely replaced by a woman he hadn’t even known for a year.
My eyes burned with tears. I turned to walk away—but suddenly, my bag strap was yanked backward. I turned and gasped. Tessa had pulled out my medical file.
“Mid-to-late stage liver cancer?” she read aloud, her eyes lighting up with malicious glee. She began circling me like a predator.
“So… you don’t have long left? The baby’s fine, but what’s the point? His mother’s going to die anyway! Honestly, this is too good. You and that bastard child of yours—both destined for early graves.”
Her grin was vicious.
“This is karma, Elise. You brought this on yourself.”
I couldn’t take it anymore. I lunged for her, grabbing a fistful of her long hair, desperate to get the report back.
“Give it back to me!”
But instead of fighting, she let out a wail, tossed the papers in the air dramatically and collapsed to the floor in exaggerated sobs.
“I’m sorry, Madam!” she cried. “I never meant to seduce Mr. Howard—we just fell in love! Please don’t hit me!”
She tore at her blouse and curled up on the floor like a helpless victim.
“I’ll do what you say! I’ll abort the baby, I’ll quit the company—I’ll disappear, I promise!”
I stood frozen, unable to process how quickly she’d twisted the entire scene.
Before I could speak, I felt someone grab my collar—and the next second, a harsh slap stung my cheek.
“Elise, have you lost your mind?” Bruce roared. “You’re pregnant and yet you’re running around my company causing drama?”
He rushed to Tessa’s side, helping her up and gently patting her back like she were made of glass.
“Mr. Howard, please… don’t be angry with her,” Tessa whimpered through tears. “She’s right—I’m of low birth. I’m not worthy of loving you, let alone having your child.”
“She’s just upset because she’s ill. I understand. Don’t blame her. If it makes her feel better, she can hit me. I won’t fight back. Just… don’t take it out on the baby.”
Bruce wrapped his arms around her waist and wiped her tears with painstaking care.
“Illness?” he scoffed. “Let’s see what kind of story she’s made up this time.”
He bent down to pick up the medical documents from the floor.
“You’re pregnant too, Elise. Can’t you at least think about others? Tessa is already seven months along. Are you trying to make her miscarry? How selfish can you be?”
I stared blankly at the papers in his hand, my voice barely a whisper.
“Bruce… I have cancer.”
His face faltered. He glanced down at the report, reading the words slowly.
“Liver cancer… terminal?”
A flicker of guilt passed through his eyes. He reached out to touch my face—but before his hand could land, Tessa spoke sweetly, ever so innocently.
“Doesn’t liver cancer cause ascites? The symptoms must look an awful lot like pregnancy…”
His hand froze midair. The guilt vanished instantly.
With one swift motion, he ripped the report in half and slapped the torn pieces against my face.
“I knew it! You forged this to get my attention. You’re pathetic, Elise! Always scheming!”
His eyes blazed with fury.
“Cancer? Really? You’re dying, huh? Then do it—go ahead and die! Take that bastard in your belly and die together! It’d save me the trouble of divorcing you!”
The sharp edges of the paper cut into my cheek, but they were nothing compared to the pain in my heart—the hatred in his eyes, the cruelty of his words.
Tessa’s smug grin shimmered in the corner of my vision.
I clenched my fists, my nails digging deep into my palms.
Then, slowly, I knelt, picked up the torn medical report and prenatal documents and walked away—one heavy step at a time.
