My Husband Killed My Father for Power

“Are you really leaving?” my friend asked anxiously as I stepped out of the president’s office.

“You’ve been married for seven years, and your wedding ceremony is only three months away. You slipped a divorce agreement and resignation letter into the stack of documents for him to sign. Aren’t you afraid… he won’t let you go?”

My steps faltered. My eyes landed on the crutches by my side.

Would he be reluctant to let me go?

I shook my head bitterly.

For seven years, I stood behind him in the shadows, helping him rise to become the powerful Nathan Blake. I worked through nights, closed deals, brought in clients—yet he handed all my hard-earned achievements to Madeline Klein, the university student he sponsored.

“She just graduated,” he told me once. “She needs a strong start in the company. You don’t need these things—you have me.”

I was foolish enough to believe he was simply helping a promising student.

Until the day I saw the dagger that killed my father—at an auction.

Each time I raised my bid, Nathan raised his higher. I burned through my entire inheritance, but still lost.

And then I watched as he handed that evidence—my only hope to clear my father's name—to Madeline.

“She just closed a hundred-million deal,” he said. “This is all she asked for.”

I stared at him, my lower lip bloodied from biting down too hard.

“That deal was mine,” I whispered. “And you know that dagger can overturn my father’s case. He was only accused of murder because he saved you!”

“Eva, that was years ago!” Nathan snapped. “I never asked your father to save me. I’ve treated you well all these years out of guilt—don’t keep throwing that in my face!”

And then he walked away with Madeline.

My father was awaiting trial. That dagger could’ve saved him.

I chased after them, tried to grab it from her. A car came out of nowhere.

Nathan pulled her to safety. I was the one who was hit.

My leg shattered on the spot, and I lay screaming in the road while he stood nearby—blowing gently on a scratch on her arm.

I spent a week in the hospital. Alone.

No one visited. No one called.

Only Nathan’s impatient voice came through the phone:

“When will the Blackwell Industries proposal be ready? Madeline needs to buy a house. We’ll use the earnings from this deal as her bonus.”

“And stop playing dead—I know your injury isn’t that serious. You scratched Madeline, and you haven’t even apologized…”

His words blurred in my ears, drowned by the tears pooling in my eyes.

A call from the lawyer pulled me back to the present. I turned to my friend with a small smile.

“Don’t worry. In seven days, I’ll be free of him—completely.”

---

I stood outside the company building, phone pressed to my ear.

“Ms. Eva,” the lawyer said, “in seven days, we’ll have complete evidence of Nathan’s extramarital affair. You’ll be able to file for divorce.”

I exhaled slowly. But the relief didn’t reach my chest.

My father’s injustice still weighed heavier than any divorce.

I hailed a taxi and headed across the city—to the most popular cake shop.

Just before I left the office, Nathan had stopped me.

“Pick up the cake I ordered from Summit Capital.”

For a moment, my heart stirred—today was our seventh wedding anniversary.

But then he crushed that hope with one sentence.

“Madeline has been craving that cake. Get it and deliver it to my office in half an hour.”

I froze, staring at him.

He met my eyes briefly, then glanced down at my crutches—before looking away.

“She said if you bring it yourself, she’ll give you the dagger.”

I closed my eyes and turned, leaning heavily on the crutches.

Once, I was the youngest project director at Blake Corporation—the woman who made him what he is today.

Now, I was just an errand girl.

Everything I built—my title, my projects, my pride—he had wrapped up in a bow and handed to Madeline.

When I finally limped into the office and placed the cake on his desk, out of breath, Nathan frowned.

“What took you so long?”

He didn’t even look at me—just picked up his phone and called her in.

Madeline walked in without glancing at the cake. She turned and dropped into his lap.

“Took you that long for a cake?” she scoffed. “The cream’s too soft. I lost my appetite just looking at it.”

He chuckled, hugging her closer. “Then don’t eat it.”

“You like cake, right?” she said with a smirk. “Let her have it.”

Then she tossed the box at me.

It hit my chest and crashed to the floor.

I looked down at the shattered cake, my heart twisting painfully in my chest.

Seven years.

And all that remained… was contempt.

He never let me go because he cared.

He kept me because he hated me.