My Husband’s Mistress Killed My Child — Novel

About

In the aftermath of unimaginable loss, Olivia stands on the precipice of a shattered life, a mother mourning her daughter’s tragic death while grappling with a husband whose betrayal cuts deeper than any wound. As secrets unravel, the facade of their once perfect marriage crumbles, revealing a web of deceit spun by Marco and his mistress, Selena. The haunting truth echoes in Olivia's mind: the woman who has taunted her at the funeral is not just an intruder in her grief but the architect of her daughter’s demise.

With anger fueling her every step, Olivia becomes a relentless seeker of justice, digging through layers of lies and cover-ups. Each revelation brings her closer to the truth, but also heightens the stakes in a dangerous game of cat and mouse with Marco, who will stop at nothing to protect his secrets. Can Olivia find the strength to confront her husband and reclaim not just her daughter’s memory but her own life? Or will she become a casualty in a battle that threatens to consume her entirely? As betrayal festers, the lines between love and vengeance blur, leading to a reckoning that could shatter everything.

My Husband’s Mistress Killed My ChildChapter 1

The phone rang just as I finished my rounds. I barely glanced at the screen—Mom. I almost ignored it. But something in my gut twisted.

I answered. “Mom?”

Her voice was a wreck. “Olivia! Celeste—Celeste was hit by a car! Near the school—”

The world tilted. “What?” My clipboard crashed to the floor. My pulse roared in my ears. “Where is she?”

“They’re bringing her to your hospital! Liv, she’s—she’s not waking up—”

“I’m coming!”

I was already running. Shoving through doors, sprinting down hallways. Sirens blared outside as I burst into the ER bay.

The ambulance screeched to a stop. The back doors flew open. Paramedics jumped out, wheeling a small, lifeless body on a gurney.

Blood. So much blood.

“Celeste!” I ran to her, my breath catching.

Her school uniform was soaked red. Her curls clung to her pale face. Her tiny chest barely moved.

“She’s unresponsive. BP’s dropping fast!”

“Trauma One, now!” I snapped, gripping my daughter’s freezing hand as we rushed inside.

Stay focused. Stay in control.

“Push fluids! Get me a trauma ultrasound!”

Her uniform was cut away—bruises everywhere. Her body jerked as we bagged her. The monitor beeped slower.

Too slow.

No.