I Was in Love With a Married Man

I was in love with a married man, Julian Walton. He asked me to be his mistress. He promised me luxury, discretion, and his heart. But I refused. I had too much pride to be a secret kept in the dark, a shameful footnote in his grand life.So, I walked away.I thought that was the end of it, but Julian shocked everyone. Within months, he did the unthinkable: he divorced Clara, weathering a massive public scandal and a brutal financial hit, just to come back to me. When he got down on one knee with a ring that could buy a small island, he told me I was the only woman he ever truly wanted. He legally made me his wife. I thought I had won. I thought love had conquered all.Then came tonight.I was heading down to his private study to bring him a cup of tea. I was going to use the quiet moment to tell him the news that had made my heart soar just hours earlier—that I was finally pregnant.But as I reached the heavy mahogany door, I realized it wasn't fully closed. A sliver of light cut acr

The moment these words fell to Julian's ears, he quickly stood up from his chair. He pulled the chair and sat next to me. He grabbed my hands and placed them gently on his. “You are pregnant, and you didn't tell me about it?” He said, his voice laced with excitement and his eyes shining brightly. “Y-You shouldn't be sitting like this. You should be resting. Don't exhaust yourself. Let me feed you instead.” With that, he quickly poured the nutritious soup into my bowl and began feeding me with his hands. “You should eat more. Just look at your body, how thin you have been looking recently.” He first blew the soup before pushing the spoon into my mouth, making sure it was not too hot. Clara’s face instantly turned dark. Even the mask of feigned excitement on her face couldn't hide the jealousy beneath. “Congratulations, Izzy.” She said, “From now on, I’ll not go anywhere.” Julian began, “I’ll stay with you the whole day and take care of you.” A day ago, if he had whispered the same

Julian stood frozen by the driveway, his expensive leather luggage slipping from his hand and hitting the gravel with a dull thud. Behind him, Clara stopped short, her smug, sun-kissed smile instantly vanishing as her eyes darted between the blood soaking my clothes and the sheer, unadulterated fury radiating from Liam Vance.Liam didn’t answer. Instead, his grip around me tightened, his knuckles turning stark white. The sheer heat of his anger was the only warm thing I had felt in seven days.“Don’t you dare step any closer to her.” Liam’s voice cut through the morning air, dangerously low and dripping with a lethal promise.“Who the hell do you think you are?” Julian fired back, trying to muster his usual arrogant authority, though his eyes kept flitting nervously to the two towering security guards flanking Liam. “That is my wife! Izzy, get out of that car right now! What kind of sick game are you playing? Who is this man?”I leaned my weak, exhausted head against the leather seat

The silence didn't last long. The heavy weight of what they had done quickly turned into a sharp, ugly desperation. The immediate regret morphed instantly into a chaotic baseline of blame."This is your fault!" Julian turned on Brinda, his voice rising in a panicked shriek. "You're the one who told us she was just acting out for attention! You're the one who locked the door and took the key.""My fault?!" Brinda shrilled back, her face turning a sickly, mottled red as she pointed a shaking finger at her son's mistress. "She was the one parading around the house, drinking champagne, and telling you to ignore her phone calls! She told me Isabella was infertile!"The colour from Clara’s face dried up; she began stuttering, “M-my friend from the maternity centre told me this. Izzy was going there regularly. She herself told us that she had problems with her periods. I thought… I didn't know, Julian. Trust me.”"Both of you shut up!" Julian roared, though his voice cracked with a terrifying

The courtroom of the High Court was entirely devoid of the warmth of the afternoon sun. For Julian Walton, the space felt less like a hall of justice and more like a high-tech execution chamber.Dressed in a rumpled suit that used to fit him perfectly, Julian sat at the defense table. His empire was gone; the liquidation had been swift and merciless.[The Defendant, Julian Walton, is found guilty of severe domestic abuse, unlawful confinement, and corporate negligence. He is hereby sentenced to twelve years in a federal penitentiary, to serve without the possibility of early parole.]The Court's decision was firm and just. A decree of Divorce was granted immediately, with the absolute dissolution of marriage.The strike of the judge’s gavel cut through the courtroom like a guillotine.Julian sat frozen at the defense table, the finality of the words crashing over him.But as the bailiffs stepped forward to escort him out, Julian didn't look at the guards. His eyes locked onto me sittin