I Took My Husband’s Mistress To Her Appointment. Then Sent Them Both To Prison Chapter 17
I agreed to see Rhys.
Not privately.
After his arraignment, his civil attorney asked mine to arrange a video settlement conference. The conversation could address only the divorce and civil claims. The prosecution was notified, and both legal teams made it clear in advance that no one could use the meeting to influence my testimony in the criminal case.
I agreed.
We sat in separate secure conference rooms. Attorneys were present on both sides, and a deputy stood outside the door on Rhys’s end.
On the screen, Rhys wore a dark jacket. His hair was slightly disheveled. The moment he saw me, hope flared in his eyes—then dimmed when I gave him nothing back.
“Genevieve.”
I didn’t respond.
He stared at me and lowered his voice.
“Withdraw the civil suit.”
“Then tell the prosecutor you don’t want them to continue—”
His attorney interrupted immediately.
“Mr. Sterling, Ms. Rowland’s criminal testimony is not an appropriate topic.”
Rhys’s expression hardened, but his eyes never left me.
“If you stop now, I’ll deal with Livia immediately.”
“I’ll make her leave Los Angeles.”
“I promise you’ll never see her again.”
I looked at him.
“Rhys, do you still believe Livia is the problem?”
His brow furrowed.
“Of course she’s a problem.”
“She played both of us.”
“Everything she turned over was taken out of context.”
I cut him off.
“You were the one who forced me to terminate my pregnancies.”
He stiffened.
“You arranged the car that hit me.”
His face lost color.
“You forged a court judgment and marriage record to deceive her.”
“You hid me and moved her into the Bel Air estate.”
“You did all of it, Rhys.”
“What makes you think throwing Livia away will make you clean?”
His throat worked.
After a long silence, he said quietly, “I was wrong.”
In eight years, it was the first time I had heard him admit he was wrong. The words landed in emptiness.
Rhys looked at me, his voice hoarse.
“Genevieve, I know I was wrong.”
“At the time, I only…”
He stopped, searching for an excuse.
“She wouldn’t leave me alone.”
“I was trying to simplify things.”
“The baby came at the wrong time.”
I gave a small laugh.
“So you had him killed.”
Rhys turned deathly pale.
“I never meant for you to get hurt.”
“I only wanted…”
“You wanted me to miscarry.”
I finished the sentence for him.
The room became terrifyingly quiet.
His eyes slowly reddened.
“Genevieve, you weren’t like this before.”
“What was I like?”
His voice strained.
“You listened to my explanations.”
“You gave me chances.”
“You softened.”
“You believed me.”
I nodded.
“And I paid for it.”
Rhys clenched his hand.
“I can compensate you.”
“Whatever you want.”
“Money, houses, shares.”
“I’ll give you all of it.”
“Can we start over?”
I watched him.
“You’re not sorry because you finally understand what you did.”
“You’re sorry because the bill finally came due.”
His breath hitched.
Suddenly, he stood, losing control.
“But I married you!”
“Genevieve, I married you!”
“I made you Mrs. Sterling. I let you live in luxury for years—”
His attorney frowned.
Staff immediately moved closer.
Rhys kept staring at me.
“I promised to protect you.”
“No one in the Sterling family dared touch you all these years.”
“What more do you want from me?”
I rose slowly.
“I saved your life.”
“And you repaid me by torturing me inside that marriage for years.”
“Rhys, do you have any idea how repulsive that sounds?”
He recoiled as if I’d slapped him. After a long moment, his voice dropped.
“It isn’t true that I never loved you.”
“Genevieve, I just…”
“I became too used to you being there.”
Fear finally surfaced in his eyes.
“I was wrong.”
“I truly was.”
“Give me one more chance.”
“I can change.”
“From now on, I’ll do whatever you say.”
I looked at him, almost impressed by the audacity of it.
“See?”
“Even your regret is somehow my responsibility.”
He stared.
“You believe you failed to cherish me because I loved you too much.”
“You believe you hurt me because I endured too much.”
“Rhys.”
“Even your apology is disgusting.”
His face turned ashen.
Then he suddenly lunged toward the screen.
Staff restrained him immediately.
He struggled and shouted.
“Genevieve!”
“Don’t leave me!”
“I really can change!”
I turned toward the door.
Behind me, his voice grew raw.
“Genevieve!”
“Turn around and look at me!”
I didn’t.
I only said, “You don’t need to change.”
“The law will put exactly who you are on the record.”
As I left the secure area, my attorney answered a call. Several seconds later, he looked at me.
“Livia miscarried.”
My step paused.
Only for a moment.
“I see.”