Sevlene’s POV
That very night, Charlee sent me a video.
In the video, she was sitting tipsily on Cortey’s lap, her voice soft and coy.
“Daddy, I really think Mrs. McEnroe doesn’t like me at all. And every time I donate blood, it hurts so much… Daddy… I don’t want to do it anymore.”
Cortey’s eyes filled with distress. He pulled her into his arms, his voice gentle as he coaxed, “If it hurts, then you won’t do it anymore. I’ll find someone else with a matching blood type. You’re the most important person to me, Charlee. I won’t let you suffer the slightest bit of harm.”
As he spoke, Charlee leaned closer and pressed her lips against his. In the next instant, Cortey clutched the back of her head and deepened the kiss without hesitation.
The video ended there.
But the impact it left on me felt like a violent collision straight into my soul.
It was utterly disgusting.
I saved the video and forwarded it to an anonymous number.
[There are only five days left before I leave. When the time comes, send this video along with the other evidence I’ve already given you. This one should be highlighted. Make sure it’s broadcasted on every big screen.]
What Charlee didn’t know was that every secret provocation she made behind Cortey’s back, I had quietly recorded and handed over to a hacker.
That night, I didn’t sleep. Instead, I gathered all the gifts Cortey had given me over the years and threw them away.
Even our wedding photo—I tore it from the wall, smashed it to pieces, and tossed it into the trash along with the five years of my marriage.
The next day, Cortey didn’t come home. But Charlee did.
The moment she walked in and saw my packed luggage, she let out a mocking laugh.
“Don’t tell me you’re planning to pull a runaway-wife act just to get Daddy’s attention? Useless. He’s already completely in love with me now.”
She tilted her chin, her voice dripping with provocation. “Yesterday was my first time. I even begged him to be gentle, but he wouldn’t listen. He wore me out until morning.”
As she spoke, she deliberately exposed the hickey marks scattered across her neck.
“You’ve been married to Cortey for years. Did you even know he likes being called ‘Daddy’ in bed? Yesterday, I screamed myself hoarse, but he still wouldn’t let me stop.”
My fingers tightened around the recorder in my hand. I swallowed down the nausea clawing at my throat and sneered, “To be a mistress and still act this shamelessly. Wow. You must be proud of yourself.”
She spat sharply, her eyes flashing with contempt.
“Please. The one who isn’t loved is the real mistress.”
Her tone grew colder. “And you don’t even need to bother with this pathetic runaway act. I only need one move to prove to you who he truly cares about.”
Just then, the sound of a familiar engine roared in from the courtyard.
In the next heartbeat, Charlee grabbed a vase from the table and smashed it against her own head.
Blood immediately streamed down from that crazy bitch’s forehead as she crumpled to the floor, a pitiful figure.
She glared at me through tears, her voice breaking as she accused, “Mrs. McEnroe, I promised I’d keep donating blood for your mother, but do I not even have the right to fall in love? Just because you saw these hickeys on my neck, you demand I break up with him?! Isn’t that too cruel?”
Her sobs were delicate and pitiful, as though she were the most wronged woman in the world.
Before I could even respond, a figure charged into the room.
It was Cortey. He shoved me with such force that I crashed onto the coffee table, my head slamming hard against its sharp corner. Blood instantly blurred my vision.
Meanwhile, he scooped Charlee into his arms, holding her as though she were the most fragile treasure on earth.
His eyes blazed with fury as he glared down at me.
“What the hell, Sevlene?! How could you keep targeting Charlee again and again? I’ve made up my mind—she’ll never donate blood to your mother again! Since you’re so ungrateful, figure out a way to save her yourself!”
