I didn’t sleep that night. By morning, my eyes burned from tears, but my mind was clear. If James thought I would crumble, he underestimated the woman he married.
I walked into the hospital. When I reached Dr. Evans’s office, his secretary tried to stop me, but one look from me was enough.
“Tell him Nicole Wilson wants to see him,” I said sharply. “Now.”
Her eyes widened, and within seconds, I was standing inside his office.
He looked startled when he saw me. “Mrs. Wilson, I—I wasn’t expecting—”
“Cut the act,” I interrupted coldly, slamming my bag onto his desk. “You already know why I’m here.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed nervously. “I’m not sure what you mean—”
“Oh, don’t lie to me.” My voice was low but dangerous. “I know James paid you. I know what he made you do. You think I don’t know why my daughter died? You think I’m that blind?”
He paled instantly, his mouth opening to deny it—but I didn’t give him the chance.
“Tell me, Doctor,” I continued, stepping closer, “how much did he pay you to stay quiet? Whatever the amount was, I’ll double it. No—triple it. All I need are the documents proving my husband’s involvement in my daughter’s death.”
His hands trembled. “Mrs. Wilson, please… if I give you those files, he’ll—he’ll destroy me. My family—”
I smiled bitterly. “Then maybe you’ve forgotten who I am.” I leaned closer, my voice turning sharp. “Before I was Nicole Wilson, I was Nicole Reid. My family built the Reid Group—one of the most powerful conglomerates in the city. If James Wilson tries to touch you or your family, I’ll make sure he disappears before he even has the chance.”
His eyes widened, shock flickering across his face.
“Choose, Doctor,” I said coldly. “Help me, or I’ll make sure you regret protecting a murderer.”
For a moment, the room was silent except for the sound of his shallow breathing. Then, slowly, he reached for the drawer of his desk, pulled out a brown envelope, and slid it across to me.
“These are copies of the medical records,” he whispered shakily. “And the transfer documents… showing that the heart meant for Amelia was redirected. Please, Mrs. Wilson, don’t tell him I gave them to you. He’ll ruin my life.”
I took the envelope, gripping it tightly. “Don’t worry,” I said, my tone softer now. “I’ll protect you. You’ve done enough.”
When I walked out of that hospital, the weight in my chest felt heavier—but this time, it wasn’t grief. It was fury. Controlled. Sharp. Burning quietly beneath my skin.
The next stop was my lawyer’s office.
He looked up from his desk in surprise when I entered. “Mrs. Wilson,” he greeted. “What brings you—”
“I want a divorce,” I said flatly, placing the envelope on his desk. “And those are my reasons.”
He opened the file, his brows furrowing as he skimmed through the documents. “This… this is serious. Are you sure about this, Mrs. Wilson? James Wilson won’t let this go easily.”
“I don’t need his approval,” I said coldly. “File it. Once I’m gone, release the documents to the media in five days.”
He hesitated. “Gone? Where will you go?”
“Somewhere far enough for him not to find me,” I said simply. “Just make sure the truth comes out.”
I left without looking back.
By the time I returned home, the sun was already setting. The house was quiet, too quiet—until I heard the sound of laughter coming from the living room.
A small, innocent laugh.
When I stepped inside, I froze.
Nico. The five-year-old boy Sasha brought into our lives years ago. She had told me she didn’t know who the father was, that she was struggling, that she needed help. And I—foolish, trusting—had taken pity on her. I even told James we should help raise him.
I remembered telling the boy to call James Daddy. I remembered how happy James looked whenever Nico hugged him. I thought it was kindness. Now I knew it was guilt.
Because Nico was his. Their son.
My throat tightened as I stared at him. The same eyes. The same smile. The same face as the man who destroyed me.
“Auntie!” Nico said happily, running toward me. “Let’s play a game! Please?”
I shook my head, voice barely steady. “Not now, Nico.”
“Please, Auntie, just one game—”
“I said no!” The words came out sharper than I intended.
He flinched, his small hands tightening around his toy. “A-Auntie?”
“I said I don’t want to play!” I shouted, my voice breaking.
The room fell silent just as James and Sasha appeared from the hallway.
“What’s going on?” James demanded, rushing forward as Nico began to cry.
Sasha placed a hand on his shoulder, feigning concern. “I’m sorry, Nicole. We didn’t mean to disturb you. Nico just wanted to say hello… maybe this isn’t a good time.”
I laughed bitterly through my tears. “You’re right. It’s a bad time. In fact, it’s a bad life.” I turned to her, my tone cold. “Get out of my house.”
“Nicole—” James started, but I cut him off.
“I said get out!”
Sasha quickly scooped up the boy, her eyes flickering with false worry. “Come on, sweetie. Let’s go. Auntie’s just tired.”
When they were gone, James turned to me, frustration written all over his face. “What the hell is wrong with you, Nicole? You scared the kid!”
I stared at him, forcing my trembling hands to stay still. “The kid?” I repeated softly, my voice almost calm. “You mean Nico?”
He frowned, still defensive. “Yes, Nico. He’s just a child, for God’s sake. You didn’t have to yell at him like that.”
I let out a hollow laugh. “Right. Because you care so much about children, don’t you?”
His brows knitted. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Before I could move, he raised his hand—anger flashing in his eyes.
The slap echoed through the room.
For a moment, I just stood there, stunned. Then I laughed—low and broken. “You slapped me… for him?”
He hesitated, guilt flickering in his eyes. “Nicole, I—”
“Enough.” I took off my wedding ring and threw it at him. It landed with a soft clink on the marble floor. “Congratulations, James. You’ve finally set me free. Let’s divorce now.”
