The Pregnant Ex-Wife's Vengeance

Everyone said I was born a jinx.

When my adoptive parents kicked me out, I had nothing but the clothes on my back.

It was Liam who took me in, giving me a home and wrapping me in his warmth.

He married me, fought his wealthy family for me, and promised I would never cry again.

For three years, I devoted myself entirely to him and his demanding mother.

When I finally got pregnant, I thought our happily-ever-after was complete.

I rushed to his office with the ultrasound, my hands shaking with pure joy.

But the door was ajar, and I heard Chloe's unmistakable giggle.

"When will you kick her out?" Chloe purred, sitting on his lap.

"Soon," Liam's cold voice replied. "She pushed my mother down the stairs. She deserves to rot."

"I know," Liam added, kissing her neck. "Tell security to throw her into the rain."

***

I shoved the oak door open, the plastic pregnancy test slick in my sweaty palm.

My husband, Liam Preston, sat behind his mahogany desk, but he wasn't alone. Chloe Davis had her arms wrapped around his neck, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder.

"Liam," I said, my hand trembling.

Chloe turned her head, her lips curving into a vicious, mocking smile. She didn't bother moving away from my husband. Instead, she pressed herself closer to his chest, tracing a manicured fingernail down his lapel.

"Emma," Chloe sneered, her voice echoing in the large office. "The unloved one is the real mistress. Don't you feel disgusted occupying a position that was never yours?"

I stared at Liam, waiting for him to push her away, to say something, to defend me. He just watched me with those cold, indifferent gray eyes.

"Get away from him," I demanded, my voice rising.

"Why should I?" Chloe laughed. "He called me here. He needs a woman who actually understands him, not a maid who just knows how to scrub floors."

"I am his wife," I said. "I spent three years caring for this family, including your mother. You do not get to stand here and call me a maid."

Chloe pouted, looking up at Liam. "Do you hear how she speaks to me, baby?"

"Enough, Emma," Liam warned, his tone sharp. "Don't embarrass yourself further."

I ignored his warning. My flats hit the carpet as I marched toward the desk. My hands shook so hard the plastic stick clicked against my ring. I reached out and grabbed Liam's wrist. His skin was warm, familiar, yet alien.

"Liam," I shouted, my voice cracking under the weight of my desperation. "I'm pregnant!"

I held the test toward his face. Two pink lines. The proof of the family I thought we were finally building.

He glanced at my fingers clutching his sleeve, his jaw tightening into a line. He yanked his arm away, shoving my hand off with brutal force. He didn't even spare a single glance at the test.

"Abort it," he said.

His voice was ice, flat and devoid of any human warmth.

"What?" I whispered, stumbling back a step. The word struck me physically, knocking the wind from my lungs. "Liam, this is our baby. We tried for this."

"You tried for this," Liam corrected, adjusting his suit jacket. "I told you I wanted a divorce last week. A child doesn't change my mind."

Chloe gave a mock gasp. "A baby? How inconvenient. I can send you the number of a discreet clinic."

"Shut your mouth!" I screamed at her, tears finally spilling over my lashes.

I turned back to my husband. "Are you out of your mind? This is your flesh and blood! How can you just sit there and let her talk to me like that?"

"Chloe is right," Liam replied calmly. "You need to handle this problem quickly. I will write you a check for the medical expenses."

"I don't want your money!" I slammed my hands on the desk. "I am not killing my child. I am your wife, and I am not leaving until you explain this to me. How can you be so heartless?"

Liam stood up, towering over the desk. He pointed a rigid finger toward the exit. "Shut the door and get out."

"No!"

He leaned across the mahogany surface, his eyes narrowing into cold slits. "The murderer who pushed my mother down the stairs doesn't deserve to have my child."

The accusation hit me harder than his demand for an abortion.

"I didn't push her!" I cried out. "How many times do I have to tell you? She tripped on the rug! I tried to catch her! I reached out to save her!"

"Save your lies," Liam snapped. "The security footage showed you standing at the top of the stairs while she fell. You paralyzed her, Emma."

"Because I was in shock! I didn't touch her!"

"Security," Liam said, pressing a button on his intercom. He didn't break eye contact with me. "Remove my wife from the premises. If she resists, use force."

"Liam, please!" I begged, the anger draining out of me, replaced by pure terror. "Don't do this. We can talk about this. The baby..."

"Take her away," he ordered.

Two burly guards entered seconds later. They grabbed my upper arms, their grips like steel vises.

"Take your hands off me!" I kicked, twisting against them, but it was useless. "Liam! Look at me!"

He turned his back, staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows. Chloe waved at me, blowing a sarcastic kiss as the guards dragged me backward.

They dragged me through the silent lobby and shoved me outside. I hit the concrete on my knees just as the sky opened. Rain soaked my blouse and hair before I could stand, washing blood from my scraped skin into the gutter.

"Liam!" I screamed at the towering glass building.

Only the thunder answered me.

I clutched the pregnancy test to my chest. I had to get away. I had to protect my baby.

I ran without choosing a direction, driven only by the need to get away and protect my baby.

I dashed into the intersection.

The blare of a horn pierced the roar of the storm.

I turned my head. Twin headlights flared in the darkness, rushing straight at me. A black SUV hydroplaned on the slick road, the tires screeching loudly.

I froze. There was no time to jump. No time to scream.

Metal slammed into my hip.

The impact threw me onto the wet asphalt. My head struck hard enough to flash white behind my eyes, and the air vanished from my lungs.

I lay there, the freezing rain pounding against my face.

A sharp, agonizing pain ripped through my lower abdomen. It felt like a knife twisting inside my stomach.

I groaned, trying to push myself up, but my arms gave out. Warm liquid pooled beneath me, mixing with the icy puddles on the road.

I forced my eyes open, looking down.

Red. So much red.

Blood spread outward from my body, a halo washing away into the storm drains.

"No," I choked out, a sob tearing at my throat.

The luxury car screeched to a halt a few yards away. The engine idled loudly.

I curled inward, ignoring the agony in my shattered hip. I wrapped both arms protectively over my stomach, curling into a tight ball on the flooded street.

"My baby," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the rain. "My baby... please..."

The driver's door of the SUV swung open. Footsteps splashed against the pavement, growing louder, closer.

A pair of polished leather shoes stepped into my line of sight, stopping right at the edge of my expanding pool of blood.

I tilted my head up, squinting through the blinding glare of the headlights, and saw a silver cane adorned with a carved wolf's head tap against the asphalt.