The honeymoon had barely ended when the recording arrived.
The voice on the other end claimed to be me—speaking from the edge of death, seven years in the future.
"Divorce Victor Weston. He'll cheat on you with Georgia Kaufman. And eventually, he'll get you killed."
That night, I slapped divorce papers onto the table.
Victor didn't take it well. He pleaded, raged, even dragged university leadership into our marriage to pressure me. But my resolve was iron.
The next day, I went to Skyfire Group headquarters to terminate my lab's cooperation with his company. But as I approached his office, I heard voices.
I stopped. Through the cracked door, I saw my husband—panting, his body pressed over my former student, Georgia Kaufman.
"Don't be brainless like her," Victor sneered. "Give me a smart son, not a fool."
Georgia murmured something inaudible. Victor laughed.
"That AI recording was just to trick her. Didn't expect she'd actually believe it. It's 2025—who's still that gullible?"
He pulled away to light a cigarette, smoke curling around his smirk. "Once the brat's born, I'll marry you. Who says I owe her anything? I was born owing her nothing."
He exhaled. "But this stays buried. Understand?"
As a professor of life sciences at Riverdale University, I knew AI's limits. I knew what could be faked. But I also knew that warning hadn't been a trick—it was a lifeline.
——
I didn't storm in. Not yet.
I messaged Victor's secretary: Send every department manager to Mr. Weston's office. Now.
Moments later, the door swung open. Confused executives flooded in.
Georgia scrambled like a startled rabbit, ducking behind the mahogany desk to hide her disheveled state.
Victor opened his mouth to roar—then saw me step out from behind the crowd.
He froze.
"Grace..." His finger trembled as he pointed. "You set this up!"
I ignored him. My gaze swept the discarded clothes on the floor, then locked onto the woman cowering behind the desk.
"Georgia Kaufman," I said, voice calm but cutting. "Last week, you swore you'd never have any improper relationship with my husband."
Victor's face flushed crimson. Being caught like this by his entire executive team—a fatal blow to his ego.
"Grace Sullivan!" he snapped. "What are you doing? You're acting like a shrew, not a professor!"
I scoffed and walked toward the desk.
When I reached Georgia, I grabbed her wrist. My grip was unyielding.
"Your father beat your mother to death," I said, loud enough for the room. "I fought to get justice for her. I put him behind bars."
Georgia trembled, eyes darting.
"You said you didn't want to rot in the mountains. So I brought you to the city. Paid for high school. Sponsored you through university. Gave you a life."
I leaned closer. "You told me you'd spend this life repaying my kindness."
My gaze dropped to her rounded belly.
"This is your repayment? Climbing into my husband's bed and carrying his bastard?"
Whispers erupted.
"She's the student Mrs. Weston sponsored?"
"Slept with her mentor's husband? Got pregnant? That's lower than dirt."
"Her father killed her mother? And she does this to the woman who saved her?"
"Bad blood. Like father, like daughter."
I yanked Georgia's wrist, dragging her from hiding.
"No!" She broke free and crawled toward Victor. "Victor... help me..."
His humiliation boiled over.
"Get out!" he roared at the staff. "Whoever says another word is fired!"
The managers fled, eager to escape but desperate to spread the news.
When the door clicked shut, Victor slumped against the desk, rubbing his temples.
"How much did you hear?" His voice dropped dangerously low.
Georgia snatched her clothes, clutching them to her chest.
"Enough," I said coldly. "I heard you stripping her."
He cursed, then guided me to a chair, his demeanor shifting from rage to manipulation.
"Gracie, be reasonable. I'm the founder of Skyfire Group. I built this empire."
He met my eyes—no remorse.
"Without an heir, who inherits the company? You lost our child. You can't conceive anymore. What choice did I have?"
