He Made Me Have a Baby for His Mistress. I Made Him Lose EverythingChapter 1

For all three years of our marriage, Ethan Prescott had answered every request with the same two words.

"Just wait."

When I asked if we could have a real wedding instead of the hurried courthouse ceremony, he told me to wait until Prescott Holdings went public. When I said I wanted a baby, he told me to wait until we traded our condo for a proper family home.

Then, on the night of our third anniversary, I found a post online.

The title read, "What is it like to have a man worship the ground you walk on?"

The woman who posted it had answered her own question.

"I told him I hated children, so he made sure his wife couldn't get pregnant."

"A few days ago, I decided babies might be fun after all. He immediately told her they could start trying."

"Then I mentioned the Northern Lights, and he booked us a flight to Iceland that same night. He would never make me wait for anything."

In the last photo, a boarding pass lay beside a champagne flute. Most of the passenger's name was hidden beneath a manicured hand, but not all of it.

Ethan Pres...

My phone chimed.

Ethan: "Honey, this trip may take a while. When I get home, we can finally start trying for a baby."

Across from me, the candle flames shivered above a dinner that had gone cold.

For the first time in three years, I stopped waiting.

I opened Ethan's message and typed a single word.

"Okay."

His video call came almost at once. He appeared in a custom black suit with his tie loosened and exhaustion carefully arranged across his face.

"A cross-border acquisition blew up at the last minute," he said. "I'll be in New York for two weeks."

There was nothing behind him but a white wall. A small snowflake pin glittered on his lapel.

I knew every detail of my husband. Ethan considered decorative pins tacky. He had never worn one in his life.

"Long day?" I asked.

"Brutal." He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "But knowing we'll start a family when I get back makes it worth it. No more delays. I promise."

Yesterday, that promise would have brought tears to my eyes.

"Where are you staying?"

"The Hilton in Midtown."

I looked past him at the window reflected in a framed print. Pale sunlight still filled the sky.

"It's almost midnight in New York. Why is it daylight outside your window?"

He went still. His gaze flicked toward someone beyond the camera.

"I'm near the airport. It's one of those sleep lounges with artificial daylight."

"Ethan, your bath is ready."

A woman's voice drifted through the speaker.

Color left his face. His hand covered the microphone.

"Honey, the connection is breaking up. I'll call you later."

The screen went black.

I knew the voice. It belonged to Lila Hayes, the younger half-sister of Ethan's oldest friend. Years ago, she had received a scholarship through the Prescott Foundation. Ethan had taken a personal interest in her future ever since.

Five minutes later, an unknown number sent me a photograph. Lila stood before a floor-to-ceiling window wearing Ethan's white dress shirt. Beyond the glass, green light rippled across the Icelandic sky.

"Ethan says the Northern Lights should be shared with the person you love most," the message read. "You can stay home and wait until he decides you're allowed to have his baby."

I saved the photograph, then took screenshots of the post and every reply beneath it. When I was done, I carried the roast chicken, glazed carrots, potatoes, salad, and anniversary cake to the trash. I had spent six hours making dinner. It took less than a minute to throw it away.

The doorbell rang before I finished cleaning the table. Evan Brooks, Ethan's executive assistant, stood in the hall with a gift box in both hands.

"Mrs. Prescott, Ethan asked me to bring you this. He also said you should rest and take your vitamins so you'll be ready when he gets home."

A diamond necklace rested inside the box. Beneath the velvet insert, I found a receipt from an Icelandic duty-free boutique, timestamped less than four hours earlier.

Evan saw it and went pale.

"There must have been a mix-up. Let me take that back."

I closed the lid before he could reach for it. "Please thank Ethan. Tell him I love it."

Once Evan was gone, I opened the bottom drawer of my vanity and removed the bottle marked PRENATAL SUPPORT. Ethan had ordered it for me three months ago. The tablets inside no longer matched the ones from the first bottle.

I photographed one and sent the image to a friend who worked in clinical pharmacy at Harborview Medical Center. She called half an hour later.

"Natalie, where did you get these? They're high-dose hormonal contraceptives. If you've been taking them without medical supervision, stop now. Long-term misuse can cause serious complications."

My fingers tightened around the phone.

The baby plan had never been ours. It had been Lila's private game. When she said children were annoying, Ethan made sure I could not conceive. When she decided babies might amuse her, he gave me permission to try.

To him, my body was another asset he controlled.

I ended the call and dialed a number I had not used in three years.

"Rachel, it's Natalie Bennett. I need you to file for divorce."

My attorney was silent for a moment. "You finally made the decision?"

"Yes. Inventory every asset that belongs solely to me and begin liquidating what you can. I want a clean exit, and I want it fast."

I sealed one of the pills in a plastic evidence bag and locked the bottle in our safe.

Ethan had always loved telling me to wait.

Now it was his turn.