My Husband’s Mistress Took My Child, I Took Her LifeChapter 1
When the picture of Carlos Phillips’s kidnapping arrived, I ran out, eight months pregnant, holding a knife. By the time I reached the last door, I was covered in blood and holding my belly. I heard laughter inside.
“The bet ended in ten minutes. Do you really think Hannah could make it here with that bump?”
“Or make this sister kneel to me and we’ll forget the wine-throwing.”
“If anything happened to the baby in Hannah’s womb, I’d take the blame.”
Then Carlos’s cold voice cut in. “What? Afraid of losing?”
“No. I just knew how hard you’d worked for this child. You were risking your wife’s life over a bet. Had you thought what would happen if something went wrong?”
“Shut up. She wasn’t a plaything, she was everything to me. If I lost the child, I could have another. But I wouldn’t let anyone hurt her.”
“Besides, I knew I’d win. Hannah would come.”
I gripped the knife tight in my hand, the taste of blood spreading in my mouth. What I thought was a kidnapping turned out to be nothing more than a bet Carlos made to protect another woman.
He had thrown away our eight-month-old child for her.
Carlos, you said those who betray will end up in hell. Let’s begin with you losing this bet.
——
I dropped the knife and leaned against the wall as I tried to calm my rough breathing. I took out my phone, sent a message to a strange number and stared at the photo it sent back. It was her.
More messages came.
“There’s no sound outside now. Looks like the result is…”
The mocking words were cut off by Carlos.
“It’s not over. Hannah fought through ten men for me. Your people are nothing to her. If it’s for me, she’ll fight until the end.”
A round of clapping followed.
“Compared to a kneel and apology, today’s bet was far more exciting. Thank you, Mr. Phillips, for feeding my urge to gamble. Nothing beats a game like this.”
Tears welled in my eyes as I remembered when I was eighteen and Carlos set fire to the nightclub where I was trapped, leaving a scar on his face that never healed.
He told me losing his face for my freedom was the best trade he had ever made and from that moment, he rose step by step, promising he would give me a better life.
As I watched his wounds grow deeper, I let go of my mother’s last wish and walked beside him on his path to becoming the feared Mr. Phillips.