Part 2The Husband Who Stole My Memory

The Mistress Arrives

Damon was excellent at hiding his mistress.

Too bad his mistress was bold, and her ambition was even bigger than her stomach.

The girl, Blair Miller, showed up at my doorstep with a prominent baby bump, ready for a showdown.

“Sister, I’m having twins, a boy and a girl. The doctor says they’re incredibly healthy.”

“Daddy feels so bad about how hard this pregnancy is. He massages me every night now, and only goes home to his tired wife after I’ve fallen asleep.”

“He says he can’t wait to meet our babies!”

I lifted my eyes, giving her a slow, pleasant smile, a cold spark flickering deep within.

“Did your baby’s father forget to tell you who I am?”

Since Damon was so keen to see the babies, perhaps I should help him along?

Twenty minutes later, an expedited delivery arrived at the towering Blackwood Holdings building downtown.

I sipped my Earl Grey tea and enjoyed the view from the company’s security feed.

When Damon received my package, the stern, controlled lines of his face melted into pure, liquid anticipation.

The moment he opened it—his face turned to ash.

Inside was a detailed lab report confirming the recent termination.

Along with the tangible, undeniable proof of what they’d lost.

Forty minutes later, Damon was home.

Blair lay on a temporary hospital bed set up in the study, sobbing hysterically the moment she saw him.

“Damon! She killed our babies! They were the ones you’d been waiting for, the ones you prayed for night and day!”

“Kill that bitch for me and take your revenge!”

A flash of raw, unbearable pain crossed Damon’s eyes.

He grabbed my wrist, his voice low and hard, clearly struggling to contain his fury.

“Vivian, she’s just a college graduate! Do you really have to be so venomous?”

Four years married, and this was the first time he’d ever raised his voice to me.

And it was for another woman.

I threw my phone onto the floor between us.

The screen displayed a chat log full of intimate videos of Damon and Blair, along with her vulgar threats demanding I make way for her.

“Your little girl sent these to provoke me. As your wife, I was hurt. A little pushback is out of the question?”

Damon paused.

He gave Blair a brief, chilling glance.

Then, his eyes softened, and he sank down to one knee before me, gently taking my hand.

“Sweetheart, you misunderstood.”

“I was only trying to spare you the pain of childbirth, Viv. I intended for her to carry the baby for us, for you to raise.”

“I swear on my life, I only love Vivian St. Clair.”

I believed he meant the last part.

When we’d considered having a child, he’d insisted on trying one of those male pregnancy simulators.

That was the first time I’d ever seen Damon Blackwood cry.

He’d hugged me tight, his face pale with horror.

“Viv, why does having a baby hurt so much?”

“Let’s forget the baby, okay? I can’t stand the thought of you suffering.”

But because he couldn't stand the thought of me suffering—

He’d let another woman carry his twins for me?

I laughed dryly, glancing over at Blair. Her eyes were wide, a look of pure, disbelieving horror plastered on her face.

I offered a small, cool smile.

“Damon, you are truly a cruel man—you just gutted both of us with one sentence.”

“So, what’s your next move?”

“When someone used to upset me, you’d use every power you had to crush them, run them out of Manhattan. I expect no less now.”