Neglected Wife's Bitter Sweet Revenge

I was the perfect wife to my producer husband, Braden, enduring his coldness and affairs for one reason: his promise to release my late father's priceless songbook.

Then, at a crowded industry party, I watched him kiss his starlet mistress, Destany, for all to see. The humiliation made me collapse, and I woke up in a hospital bed to a shocking truth: I was pregnant.

Braden used our unborn child as a leash, playing the role of a devoted husband while secretly continuing his affair.

His mistress grew bolder, breaking into our home after taunting me with photos of her and Braden in Tokyo.

"That baby is just another obstacle," she whispered, her eyes filled with hate as she lunged at me.

In the struggle, she shoved me down our grand staircase. The fall was a blur of sickening thuds and a sharp, searing pain. I lost my child.

The one thing that had tied me to him was gone, stolen by his cruelty and her jealousy. The years of his lies and my silent suffering crystallized into a single, cold purpose.

When Braden knelt by my hospital bed, sobbing and begging for forgiveness, I felt nothing. I simply picked up the phone and called my lawyer.

"I want a divorce," I said, my voice like ice. "And I'm taking back everything."