Chapter 4

A few agonizing weeks had passed.

Fourteen days of playing the blind, grateful wife.

Fourteen days of watching the woman who stole my life sleep under my roof, eat at my table, and kiss my son goodnight. I endured every single second of it.

But the fragile peace was shattering. Denise was growing impatient.

"I want her gone, Terrence," Denise whined against his lips, her fingers tracing his strong jaw. "I am sick of waiting. I am sick of hiding in the guest room. She needs to leave now."

"I know, baby," Terrence murmured, kissing her neck. "Just give me a little more time. I will handle it. If I push too hard, she might snap."

"Make her snap, then," Denise hissed. "I want my house back."

I backed away into the shadows, my blood boiling with a consuming rage. I reached into my pocket, my thumb resting on my phone.

The audio recording app was running, capturing every sickening word of their betrayal.

The next morning, the tension in the house was suffocating.

"I'll take that downstairs, Maria," Denise said sweetly, appearing from the hallway. "Take your break."

"Thank you, Miss Denise," Maria smiled, disappearing down the corridor.

The moment the maid was completely out of earshot, Denise’s sweet facade finally dropped.

"I am so tired of faking it, Shay," Denise hissed.

I blinked at her, playing the confused victim. "Denise, what are you talking about?"

"I am sick of playing the supportive friend," she sneered. "I am sick of pretending to care about your endless, suffocating grieving. It is exhausting."

She cornered me against the banister.

"Terrence doesn't want a weeping ghost in his bed," Denise taunted. "He wants a real woman. He wants a mother. I’m officially taking over as the mistress of this house. Pack your bags, Shay."

Before I could respond, the heavy thud of footsteps echoed from the master suite. Terrence was coming.

Denise’s eyes darted toward the sound. She looked at me, her eyes dead and soulless. Then, she looked down at Jiro.

My son was standing up, his toy train in hand, wobbling dangerously close to the edge of the top step.

"Let's speed up your departure, shall we?" Denise whispered, her voice laced with pure evil.

"Denise, no!" I gasped.

I dropped my submissive act instantly. I realized her sickening intent a fraction of a second too late. I lunged forward, desperate to protect my son.

But she was faster.

With a cruel, soulless smirk, Denise reached out and violently shoved little Jiro.

Time slowed down to an agonizing crawl.

Jiro tumbled backward. He fell down the first flight of the steep marble stairs, his tiny body hitting the hard landing with a sickening, heavy thud.

He burst into terrified, ear-piercing wails.

"Jiro!" I screamed, my voice tearing my throat apart.

But Denise didn't even look at the boy she claimed to love. She immediately threw herself onto the marble floor at the top of the stairs.

"Terrence!" Denise screamed at the top of her lungs, her voice echoing through the entire mansion. "Help us! Oh my god, Terrence! She pushed him! Shay pushed the baby!"

The heavy oak doors of the master suite flew open. Terrence rushed onto the landing, his eyes wide with panic. He saw Jiro crying on the landing below. He saw Denise weeping hysterically on the floor.

"She lunged at him!" Denise sobbed, pointing a trembling finger at me. "She was screaming out of pure jealousy! She tried to hurt my baby!"

Terrence didn't ask what happened. He marched down the stairs, his handsome face twisted into a mask of pure, unhinged fury. He scooped Jiro up, handing the crying boy up to Denise.

Then, he turned on me.

"Terrence, I didn't touch him!" I cried. "She pushed him!"

"Shut up!" Terrence roared.

He lunged forward and violently shoved me backward. I flew across the landing, my body hitting the hard marble wall with a sickening crack.

A sharp, blinding pain exploded in my shoulder, and the side of my forehead slammed against the stone. Warm blood instantly began to trickle down the side of my face, blinding my left eye.

"You are a monster!" Terrence spat, grabbing my bruised arm.

He dragged my bleeding, stumbling body down the rest of the stairs and threw me violently into the center of the living room. I crashed onto the expensive rug, gasping for air.

Terrence marched over to his briefcase. He pulled out a thick stack of crisp, white papers and threw them violently at my chest.

"Those are divorce papers," Terrence commanded, his voice a lethal, icy blade. "You are going to sign them right now. You are leaving with absolutely nothing."

I touched my bleeding forehead, my vision swimming. "And if I don't?"

"If you refuse," he sneered, towering over me, "I will have you locked in a psychiatric ward for attacking my son. You will rot in a padded cell."

I stood perfectly still, the harsh lights buzzing above me. Blood dripped from my chin onto the pristine white rug.

He expected me to fall to my knees. He expected me to beg for mercy. He wanted me to cry so he could prove I was weak and hysterical.

But as I looked at the man I had sacrificed everything for, I realized that playing weak would no longer protect my son. The desperate, foolish girl who loved Terrence died on that rug.

I grabbed the divorce papers from the floor, stood up, and threw them right back into Terrence's face. The pages scattered through the air like violent snow.

Terrence’s face turned purple with absolute, unhinged rage.

"Get out!" he roared.

He grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, physically dragging me across the grand foyer. He ripped open the heavy front doors and threw me out into the freezing, torrential rain.

I hit the wet pavement hard, the icy water instantly soaking through my clothes and mixing with the warm blood on my face.

The heavy doors slammed shut behind me, the lock clicking with a brutal finality.