
After My Cheating Husband's Betrayal, I Fought Back
Noah · Completed · 10.3k Words
Introduction
My husband would gently help me into my shoes, rest his hand on my belly and whisper to our baby. My father would tie on an apron and cook dinner just for me.
Then a video from an unknown number shattered everything.
Inside a chapel, the four of them stood side by side.
My husband holding the hand of my father's mistress's daughter. My father arm in arm with the woman who once knelt before my mother begging for mercy.
And my wedding — the one the whole city had witnessed — had been nothing but a lie from the very beginning.
That evening.
He picked the bones from my fish, tucked a cushion behind my back, kissed my forehead — same as always.
I didn't confront him. I simply handed him a document to sign.
He thought I was still the naive little lamb he'd been deceiving all along. What he didn't realize was that he had just signed away his last card.
Chapter 1
Six months into my pregnancy, I went to a prenatal checkup alone for the first time.
Before I left, my father straightened my scarf, while Daniel crouched at the entryway and personally helped me into a pair of non-slip flats.
"As soon as the financing meeting wraps up, I'll come pick you up at the hospital."
His palm rested against my pregnant belly, his voice tender as if he were coaxing a child.
"Be good, little one. Don't give Mommy a hard time."
My father smiled and chimed in, "Tonight Daddy's cooking dinner himself — my way of making it up to our little princess."
Once upon a time, I would have been touched.
But that day, for reasons I couldn't explain, watching the two of them walk away side by side filled me with an inexplicable sense of dread.
It wasn't until ten minutes before my checkup that I received a video from an unknown number.
The footage showed a seaside chapel draped in flowers, every pew filled with guests.
My father, Richard Harper, stood in a tailored suit, taking Monica's hand.
That woman had once knelt before my mother with a swollen belly, begging her to step aside for the sake of her and my father's love. After my mother's death, my father swore on her portrait that Monica would never set foot in the Harper household.
Now, he was slipping a ring onto her finger with his own hands.
The camera panned. Another couple made their entrance.
Daniel wore the suit I had chosen for him. Beside him stood my half-sister, Vivian.
Her belly was slightly rounded. Beneath the veil, her smile was radiant — and triumphant.
The officiant opened two marriage certificates.
The registration date was the day before my wedding to Daniel.
A ringing filled my ears, drowning out the sounds of the hospital around me.
Two years ago, Daniel had proposed to me on a citywide livestream.
On our wedding day, he told me the paperwork had been handled by his assistant — that all I had to do was be the happiest bride in the world.
It turned out that lavish ceremony had been nothing but a performance from start to finish.
The video continued.
My father raised his glass with a laugh. "Elena was spoiled from the start — big temper, always suspicious. Luckily Daniel had the patience. Two years of keeping her sweet, and he finally got the proxy vote."
Daniel turned to Vivian, and the tenderness in his eyes was painfully familiar.
"She's pregnant. She won't be going back to the company. Once the asset transfer is complete, I'll tell her the truth."
Someone asked, "What about the baby?"
Daniel smiled faintly.
"She and I were never legally married. What the child's last name turns out to be — what does that have to do with me?"
The video cut off abruptly.
A nurse pushed open the door and called my name, but I couldn't bring myself to stand.
The baby inside me seemed to sense my emotions and gave a sudden, forceful kick.
I pressed my hands to my belly, my fingertips ice cold.
"Ms. Harper?" The nurse looked at me with concern. "You don't look well. Should I call a family member?"
Family member.
The words struck me as laughable.
"There's no family member."
I braced myself against the wall and rose to my feet.
"Let's do the checkup."
Throughout the entire examination, I kept my eyes fixed on the small silhouette on the screen.
The doctor said the baby was developing normally — but my emotional fluctuations were too severe. I needed rest.
Over and over, I told myself: don't cry.
At least not here.
After leaving the exam room, I opened the video again.
This time, I didn't look at Daniel. I didn't look at either couple.
Instead, I stared at a projection that flickered briefly in the background.
It read:
"Harper Group Core Asset Transfer Countdown: 72 Hours."
I immediately logged into the company intranet.
Password invalid.
Electronic seal authorization suspended.
Even the brand management account my mother had left me was showing an ownership transfer in progress.
Moments later, the unknown number sent a scanned document.
It was an asset transfer authorization worth nearly one billion dollars, and there — in the signature line — was my name.
The handwriting was almost identical to mine.
But I had never seen this document before.
My phone rang.
It was Daniel.
I stared at the screen for a long time before pressing accept.
"Is the checkup done?"
His voice was the same as always.
"I'm still tied up here for a bit. Are you tired? Did you behave and listen to the doctor?"
Nearby, a shopping mall's giant screen was playing a Harper Group family promotional video.
In the footage, Daniel draped a coat over my shoulders. My father placed the seal of inheritance into my hands.
The caption read:
"Love and Legacy. Never Forsaken."
I looked up at the screen and suddenly asked, "Daniel, where are you right now?"
A beat of silence on the other end.
"At the financing meeting."
"With my father?"
"Of course."
He even let out a small laugh.
"What, can't stand being apart for two hours? Miss me already?"
I gripped the checkup report in my hand.
"Yes. I miss you."
I wanted to see just how shameless one person could be.
Daniel relaxed completely, his voice turning soft and sweet. "I'll hold you when I get home tonight."
After I hung up, I deleted his custom ringtone.
The unknown number sent a third message almost immediately.
[If you want to keep everything your mother left behind, come to the old garment factory in the South District before midnight tonight.]
The signature was a single letter.
[L.]
Lucas Stone.
The man who had been my rival in business for three years. The one who had publicly declared that the Harper Group would eventually be destroyed by my father.
Also the last person on earth I wanted to ask for help.
I stared at the name for a long time before finally replying:
[Bring all the evidence.]
The response came almost instantly.
[Done.]
[One more thing — the signature on that authorization is only the beginning.]
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