I Took My Husband’s Mistress To Her Appointment. Then Sent Them Both To Prison Chapter 12
We met at a neighborhood diner that looked as though it hadn’t changed in decades. When I arrived, the woman was already sitting in a corner booth.
She looked to be in her forties. Her coat had faded from years of washing, and both hands clutched a black cloth bag.
The moment she saw me, she stood.
“Ms. Rowland?”
I nodded.
She glanced at the attorney behind me, then quickly lowered her eyes.
“I only want to speak to you.”
I sat down.
“He’s my attorney.”
“Anything you tell me may become evidence.”
The woman went pale. Her fingers shook badly. After a long silence, she pulled an old phone from the bag.
“My husband was the driver who hit you six months ago.”
I held her gaze as an invisible fist closed around my heart.
Tears spilled from her eyes.
“He’s dead.”
“He died not long after the crash.”
“They said it was an accident, but I don’t believe them.”
My attorney confirmed that she consented to being recorded before switching on a digital recorder.
She nodded.
Then she opened an audio file on the old phone. A man’s rough voice filled the booth.
“I only did it for the money.”
“They said not to kill her.”
“Mr. Sterling said the baby had to die, but the woman had to live.”
My fingers slowly curled.
The man’s voice cracked on the recording.
“I didn’t know she was four months pregnant.”
“I swear I didn’t.”
“Then Ms. Kessler offered more money and said it would be better if the woman could never get pregnant again.”
“I was scared.”
“I was so scared.”
The recording ended.
The diner fell so quiet I could hear the refrigerator humming behind the counter. The woman covered her face and wept softly.
“I was too afraid to say anything before.”
“They paid us, and they threatened me.”
“But my husband is dead now. I can’t let him die for nothing.”
When I spoke, my voice barely sounded like mine.
“Why give me this now?”
She lifted her head. Her eyes were red.
“Because the Sterling family is in trouble.”
“I was afraid before.”
“Now I’m willing to take the risk.”
“Ms. Rowland, I don’t want money.”
“I only want to know whether they killed my husband to silence him.”
My attorney accepted the old phone.
“We’ll turn it over to the police for forensic examination.”
The woman nodded repeatedly.
I stood.
She suddenly called after me.
“Ms. Rowland.”
“I’m sorry.”
I didn’t turn around.
“You should say that to my child.”
She broke down behind me.
I left the diner.
The wind outside was cold.
My attorney followed, his voice low.
“If the recording is authenticated, Livia will be pulled into the criminal investigation too.”
“Because she’s pregnant, public reaction may become complicated.”
I stopped.
“I was pregnant too.”
He fell silent.
I watched people move along the sidewalk.
“My baby never had the chance to be born.”
“Why should her pregnancy shield her from consequences?”
“I understand,” he said quietly.
Across the city, at the Sterling estate in Bel Air, Livia frantically deleted posts from the couples account. Every time she removed one, someone uploaded another screen recording. The more she deleted, the angrier the comments became.
“Feeling guilty?”
“Stop deleting. The internet remembers.”
“You knew he had a wife and still bragged about it. Disgusting.”
Livia hurled her phone onto the bed.
Rhys entered the room.
She rushed toward him.
“Rhys, what are we going to do?”
“Everyone is attacking me!”
“Make your PR team bury the hashtags and take down those videos.”
Rhys looked at her.
His eyes were cold.
Livia stopped.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
He approached one step at a time.
“The crash six months ago.”
“Were you involved?”
Her expression changed instantly.
“What are you talking about?”
“I asked whether you were involved.”
Tears flooded her eyes.
“You suspect me?”
“Rhys, I ended thirty-three pregnancies for you, and I’m carrying your child right now.”
“And you’re suspicious of me?”
He stared without answering.
Unease spread across her face.
Then she laughed.
“Fine.”
“Now you care about Genevieve?”
“You didn’t seem conflicted when you ordered the hit, did you?”
The room went deathly still.
Rhys’s expression turned lethal.
A second later, his palm cracked across her face. Livia fell against the side of the bed, her ears ringing. She covered her cheek and stared at him in disbelief.
“You hit me?”
His voice was ice.
“You need to control your mouth.”
Her tears fell harder, but the hurt vanished from her eyes.
Only hatred stared back at him.
She rose slowly, one hand over her stomach.
“Rhys.”
“If you ruin my life…”
“I’ll make sure you don’t walk away clean.”