Accused of Causing My Husband's Mistress Miscarriage

Clifford Delaney's spoiled girlfriend had a miscarriage. At the company's annual meeting, for the first time, he lost his composure in front of everyone.

"Faith, I told you the child was innocent and wouldn't affect your position. Why can't you just tolerate it?" he yelled, his face red with fury.

"Now Denise's child is gone, and the one in your belly won’t survive either!" His words were laced with venom.

With rage in his eyes, he tied me to the bed and performed the abortion himself.

The procedure left me bleeding heavily, and one of my fallopian tubes had to be removed. Meanwhile, he was at an auction, bidding on sky-high collections to "compensate" his girlfriend. The scene, with him adoringly pampering her in the media, made me realize that this marriage was beyond repair.

I picked up the phone and called across the ocean. "Do you still mean it? Do you still want to marry me?"

There was a slight pause on the other end before a soft laugh. "Of course."

——

When I returned to Clifford's house after being discharged, I froze in shock at the sight of a pair of elegant high heels at the door. Before I could process, Clifford's lazy voice came from the sofa.

"You're back... Just in time. Denise isn't used to having strangers around, so I gave the house staff a few days off. Can you make some chicken soup for her to help her recover?" His tone was casual, but I saw her—Denise—nestled in his arms, her delicate face peeking out.

"Clifford, Faith is still weak from her surgery. Let me do it…" Denise's soft voice tried to intervene, but it only ignited Clifford's fury.

"Don’t be fooled. She’s the best at pretending. It was just a small procedure, but she dragged it out for over half a month before being discharged. She did it for my sympathy!" His words were sharp, his anger palpable. "Faith, don't think I’ll feel guilty. You owe Denise that child!"

I let out a bitter laugh. A month ago, Denise had been told by the doctor that her pregnancy was ectopic and needed a uterine curettage. But Clifford, believing gossip from somewhere, accused me of bribing the doctor to kill Denise’s child. No matter how I explained, he refused to believe me.

At the company’s annual meeting, Denise played an audio recording of a conversation between me and the doctor, publicly accusing me of conspiring against her.

In an attempt to comfort Denise, Clifford, without any regard for my three-month pregnancy, forcibly tied me to an operating table and personally removed my child, while burying Denise's child with it.

He didn’t wait for me to recover but whisked her away on a trip abroad. He spent a fortune at an auction, buying expensive collections and even a medieval crown, all in an attempt to make it up to her.

Meanwhile, I was left alone in the hospital, suffering from heavy bleeding. One of my fallopian tubes was taken, and no one cared enough to stay with me.

Now, he accuses me of owing Denise. It’s laughable.

As I walked calmly toward the kitchen, Clifford raised an eyebrow, continuing his demands.

"Don’t forget, Denise doesn’t eat coriander. Make sure the fish is boneless and light…" His words were dripping with thoughtfulness, a gesture that made Denise giggle as she flirted with him, hands playing with his collar.

I shut the kitchen door, blocking out the sounds of their affection. Suddenly, I remembered—after five years of marriage, he couldn’t even name a single dish I liked, yet he knew Denise’s every preference.

A mist rose in my eyes, and I wiped it away, forcing myself to focus.

After finishing the last dish, I turned to go upstairs to pack my things, but Clifford stopped me.

"I forgot to mention, I had someone pack your things in the guest room. Denise can’t get used to the northern room. She’s been spoiled since childhood..."

I immediately sensed something was wrong and rushed to check the guest room.