I Took My Husband’s Mistress To Her Appointment. Then Sent Them Both To Prison Chapter 07
The moment I said it, Rhys’s expression froze.
He looked as if the words had failed to register. His throat bobbed before he managed, “What did you say?”
“I said I want a divorce.” I repeated it slowly, giving him no room to pretend he had misheard.
“Rhys!” Livia nearly cheered. She clung to his arm, her face lighting with wild joy.
“She’s finally leaving! That pathetic woman who’s been clinging to you finally understands.”
“Have your attorney file the agreement right now. The moment the judgment is final, we’ll go to the County Clerk’s Office, get our license, and have the ceremony. Hurry!”
Rhys seemed not to hear her.
His brow tightened. He stared as if he could peel back my skin and expose the trick he was certain lay underneath. Then his mouth curled in a knowing sneer.
“Genevieve.” He shook his head, weary contempt in his voice. “You think threatening divorce will make me chase you?”
“It won’t work on me.”
“For the sake of our history, I’ll give you one last chance. While I still have patience, get out of my house. The money will be in your account tonight, every dollar of it.”
“Do not test me again.”
He was so certain I couldn’t leave him—so certain he still controlled me—that the sheer absurdity pulled a smile from my lips.
Of course he didn’t believe me.
In Rhys’s mind, I had become his shadow from the moment I fell for him during a guest lecture in my sophomore year. No matter how cold or distant he was, I swallowed every humiliation.
I chased him from campus into adulthood and fought for a place in his world. I had even risked my life and run into a burning building to save him.
In his eyes, I had given up my pride and my sense of self years ago. I had made myself small enough to live at his feet.
How could a woman like that ever let go and ask for a divorce? This had to be another clumsy attempt to get his attention and win back his affection.
I swallowed the cold rising in my chest—and smiled.
“All right.”
I met his gaze, utterly calm.
“I hope the number isn’t insulting.”
Then I turned and walked away.
Behind me, Livia screamed curses. A glass shattered against the floor.
I didn’t look back.
I simply pulled my phone from my pocket. The red recording light was still on.
When we entered the house, I had clearly told Livia that I would record the handoff as part of the patient-advocacy handoff documentation. She had waved off the warning and agreed.
After Rhys arrived, I pointed to the phone on the table in front of him.
“The care handoff is still being recorded. If you continue speaking, you’re consenting to the recording.”
He had replied coldly, “Record whatever you want.”
I stopped the video and backed it up with the original metadata intact. Then I opened their carefully curated couples account on TikTok and began preserving everything: screenshots, screen recordings, original links, timestamps, and full copies of every relevant post.