She wrapped her arms around me so tight it physically hurt, her tiny body trembling violently against my chest. I rubbed her back, kissing the top of her head while keeping my eyes locked dead on the woman on the sofa. “You have exactly one minute to take your shoe off my floor,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying enough venom to make the woman visibly flinch.
“Are you… are you the mother?” the woman stammered, trying to regain her false sense of superiority. She stood up, wobbling slightly on her one stiletto. “Look, your brat spilled juice on my silk dress. Mark told me she was poorly behaved, but this is ridiculous.
When he comes downstairs, he’s going to…” “When Mark comes downstairs,” I interrupted, my tone dangerously even, “he is going to pack a single bag, and then both of you are going to walk out of my front door, or I am going to have you both arrested for trespassing.” Right on cue, the sound of footsteps echoed on the staircase.
Mark came jogging down, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, vigorously rubbing his wet hair with another. “Hey babe, did you find the other bottle of…” He stopped dead in his tracks. The towel fell from his hands. All the blood instantly drained from his face, leaving him looking like a ghost haunting his own life.
He looked at his mistress, who was staring at him expectantly, and then he looked at me, holding our terrified daughter in my arms. He knew, in that exact split second, that his entire world was over. “Sarah,” he choked out, his voice cracking pitifully.
“You… you weren’t supposed to be home until tomorrow night. Let me explain. Please, this isn’t what it looks like.” “It looks like you let a stranger terrorize our daughter while you were showering,” I replied coldly. “It looks like you’re drinking the champagne my father bought me for my promotion.
And it looks like you’ve completely forgotten whose name is on the deed to this property.” The mistress looked back and forth between us, the smugness finally melting off her face and being replaced by genuine confusion. “Wait, Mark, what is she talking about? You said this was your house.
You said she was just some corporate manager who was never around.” I couldn’t help but let out a dark, humorless laugh. “He told you it was his house? Honey, Mark hasn’t had a job in four years. I bought this property two years before I even met him.
The car he drives is leased under my LLC. The credit card he used to buy whatever cheap dinner he fed you tonight is tied to my bank account. And the prenup he signed guarantees he leaves this marriage with exactly what he brought into it: nothing.” I shifted Lily in my arms, shielding her face from them as I pointed toward the front door.
