My Husband Gave My Child To His Wife

Three years had crawled by since Juliet Dunn had been gutted by the stillbirth of her baby. She couldn't get pregnant again, no matter what she tried, and nightmares had her tossing and turning, wrecked with guilt until dawn. But the weird part? Damien Freeman had actually gotten more attentive after the tragedy.

She was at the clinic—again—hanging onto a thread of hope that she could somehow get her child back, when she overheard a nurse. "Dr. Baker, Mr. Freeman and his wife are waiting up on the top floor with the child."

Juliet knew this was the clinic Damien funded, but the words wife and child knocked the air right out of her. Before she even knew what she was doing, her feet were carrying her after them.

And there he was. Damien, holding a little boy who looked around three. Standing next to him? Charleigh Mason, the woman he'd always brushed off as a "business associate."

"Damien, is our baby gonna be okay?" Charleigh asked, tears streaking her cheeks.

Damien laid the child gently on the exam bed. "Don't worry, I'm right here."

Juliet's mind went into a tailspin. In four years together, she'd never once suspected him of cheating—let alone having a whole freaking kid with someone else. It didn't compute. Those were the exact same soothing words he'd fed her when she was drowning in grief over their lost baby.

His calm in a crisis had always been his thing. But now? It looked like he'd been living a whole other life—complete with a child from somewhere else.

Three years ago, Juliet had been rushed into an emergency C-section after she went into premature labor. When she woke up, Damien broke the news: the baby didn't make it—oxygen deprivation. She'd begged to see her child, but they said no. And no matter how hard she tried after that, she couldn't conceive again.

The pain got so bad she asked for a divorce, but Damien always shut it down. "Juliet, stop talking crazy. I'm not going anywhere over a baby. Even if we never have kids, I'll always be with you."

Like an idiot, she believed him. How could a man of Damien's status not need an heir? Even if he claimed he didn't, his powerful family sure as hell would. She stood frozen by the door, and it hit her all over again—their marriage had never been made public.

"Mr. Freeman, no need to worry—it's just a mild allergy, nothing serious. The little guy is a bit fragile since he was premature, but with proper care he'll be just fine," Dr. Baker reassured him.

Juliet's hand crept to the scar from her C-section. Premature? That was some coincidence.

She caught Charleigh's face twisting into a look of disgust. Damien must have noticed, but he didn't even flinch. "Charleigh, I'll have your driver take you and Ace home. I've got to wrap a few things up at the office, but I'll be there as soon as I can."

But Juliet didn't move. Something in her gut told her Damien would come back. She slipped into Dr. Baker's office and listened.

"When my wife is around, don't mention the premature birth or what went down back then. She's really sensitive about not being able to have children. I arranged for the early delivery to give her some sense of safety," Damien said, like it was no big deal.

Juliet's hands flew to her mouth to trap the sound that wanted to escape. That child was hers. She'd spent countless sleepless nights picturing him—his height, his weight, whose eyes he'd have.

Damien went on. "How much longer will Juliet's birth control stay effective?"

Dr. Baker hesitated. "Probably another three months. But if she keeps taking it, she could permanently lose her ability to conceive."

"Got it." Damien's voice was ice cold.

Juliet's world imploded. Every ounce of effort she'd poured into this was pointless. She was the real fool. Tears slid down her face as she hid in the shadows, her heart breaking over and over until all that was left was a dull, dead numbness.

She couldn't wrap her head around it. The man she'd loved with everything in her had done this—had stolen her own child and handed him to another woman.

The trip home was a blur. She just remembered clutching a crumpled medical report, her knuckles bone-white. The house she'd lived in for four years... it all felt like a cruel joke now.

Her phone buzzed. A text from Damien: some project had gone sideways, so he'd be working late. And Juliet realized, for the first time really, that ever since they'd met, through their entire marriage, Damien had always been "busy"—always jetting off, always working late. Now she understood. He'd been managing a whole separate life.

Her heart slamming against her ribs, Juliet sank to the floor of the nursery she'd never had the guts to take down. She pulled out her phone and dialed her lawyer. She was done. She would divorce Damien, and she would get her son back.