He said it so casually, right in front of his wife, who had stood beside him through ten years of storms!
That made me laugh.
Under his puzzled gaze, I showed him a photo.
“A mistress is still a mistress,” I replied. “If she dares to provoke the wife, teaching her a lesson is only right. Don’t you agree?”
The words [Miscarriage caused by violence] on that report must have set him off.
He had always been calm and composed. But the next thing I knew, he had his hand around my throat.
“Stacia!” he roared. “She’s just a young woman! Why did you have to go that far?”
The last time I’d seen him lose control like this was when my boss had stripped me naked and tried to force himself on me.
Cormac had crippled that beast of a man then.
Seeing him lose control again now only made me feel more satisfied.
“Because she was pregnant,” I said.
His grip tightened, and for a moment, I swore I heard something crack.
“Daddy…”
Our son’s voice snapped him back to his senses.
He loosened his hold slightly, and I seized the chance to hit him hard in the chest.
“Stacia!”
He staggered back, clutching his chest, staring at me like he couldn’t believe what I’d just done.
“You really never change,” he spat.