Chapter Four

The past six months had been hell for me. I tried so hard to hide it from John, burying my despair so I wouldn’t look like the bad person. He was having the time of his life with his son—bonding over soccer, going on ice cream dates, introducing him to colleagues at work. The new CEO’s son. The future heir to the Luther Group of Companies.

I had thought we were only here for his father’s funeral, but to John’s surprise, his father had left everything to him, despite John’s long-standing disinterest in running the company. And now, even though he had never wanted it, John was stuck carrying his father’s legacy. Lately, though, he had been coming home with heavy burdens. Someone was embezzling money from the company, crippling it, and he couldn’t figure out who.

One thing John would never tolerate was betrayal.

Between the stress of work and the newfound responsibility of being a father, there was barely any space left for me. And the most infuriating part? Tricia was always there. How she still had a place in this house baffled me. Just because she had a child for John didn’t give her the right to stay. But she claimed she had nowhere else to go—and even if she did, my sweet mother-in-law would make sure she stayed. Anything to push me out of the picture.

Tonight was supposed to be different.

I sat at the dining table, my hands clenched in my lap as I watched the clock. Forty minutes late. John was forty minutes late for our anniversary dinner. I prayed—hoped—he wouldn’t bail on me again. Tonight mattered.

I got up and began pacing the living room, stealing glances out the window every few seconds. Then I heard footsteps behind me, followed by mocking laughter.

“I see you’re all glammed up,” Tricia drawled. “What a waste.”

I ignored her. I had made it a habit to act like she didn’t exist. This house was big enough for that.

She stepped closer. “It’s only a matter of time before you’re gone, trust me. The moment I walked in here with my son was the moment you stopped being relevant to him. Honestly? You were never relevant anyway.”

Still, I didn’t react.

Then I heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. Immediately, I straightened, smoothing my dress. Tricia smirked as she turned and sauntered off to her room.

John was an hour late—but at least he was here.

“Baby, what took you so long?” I rushed toward him the moment he stepped inside, melting into his embrace as he placed soft kisses on my cheek.

“I’m sorry, babe. It’s just… work.” He exhaled heavily. “Someone is bleeding the company dry. We’re doing everything we can to trace it, but God help whoever it is if I find out.” He clenched his fist, his frustration palpable.

I placed my hands over his, soothing him. “You’ll figure it out. Let’s just focus on tonight, okay?”

He nodded, letting me lead him upstairs. Twenty minutes later, he was ready, looking sharp and effortlessly handsome. John had a kind of presence no one could ignore—he was built for power. And tonight, he was mine.

We walked out, fingers interlocked.

“Four years, mehn,” he said, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Wouldn’t have had it any other way. I love you, baby.”

Just as he opened the door, to step out of the house, a voice called from behind us.

“John!”

We both turned to see Tricia descending the stairs, her son in her arms.

“I think Mark is running a temperature,” she said, breathless. “He just puked. We need to take him to the hospital now.”

Without hesitation, she shoved the child into John’s arms, completely disregarding me.

I stood there, watching as everything unraveled in mere seconds. His mother rushed down, concern written all over her face. The house was suddenly in chaos—everyone hovering over Mark, touching, checking, murmuring worried words.

I was worried too. Mark was a sweet boy, despite the fact that his mother had warned him never to come near me. She’s a witch, she had told him once, loud enough for me to hear. That’s why she can’t have children of her own.

John turned to me before getting into the car. His eyes held an apology, but apologies didn’t change anything. Not tonight.

“I’m sorry,” he mouthed.

I nodded, forcing a smile. The kind of smile that masked the sting in my chest.

The car doors shut. Just as they were about to drive off, Tricia rolled down her window.

“Liv,” she called sweetly.

I turned, already bracing myself.

She smiled, slow and deliberate, her eyes glinting with cruel satisfaction. “Oh, and..Happy anniversary.”

She winked, then the window slid up. The car sped off, leaving me standing alone in the driveway, my dress flowing around me in the night breeze.

I swallowed hard, staring at the taillights disappearing down the road. My fists clenched at my sides.

This wasn’t just about my ruined anniversary.

This was about everything.

The whispered insults. The stolen moments. The way I was being edged out of my own marriage.

I had been patient. Too patient. But tonight, something inside me shifted.

I made my way to the mini bar and found myself something strong—strong enough to shrink the pain, if that was even possible.

It was becoming too obvious that my marriage was crumbling right before my eyes. Even though John said everything to reassure me, his words had little to no effect. Nobody wanted me here. I couldn’t give him a child. I was more or less a hindrance in his life now. And whenever I saw him and Tricia with their son, playing together, it sank my heart.

I took a bottle of Scotch, filled my glass to the brim, and gulped it down in one go, thudding the glass on the table afterward.

From one glass to two, and then more—until I couldn’t count anymore.

I heard noises. That was what woke me up.

I looked around, but I couldn’t see anything—my vision was still blurry. I tried to get up from the couch. My hair, my dress—my entire state of being in that moment was a mess.

I rubbed my eyes and slowly began to regain my sight.

“You barren whore!”

That was the first thing I heard properly. I squinted, blinked twice, and everything became clear. John’s mother stood right in front of me.

“Oh—I’m sorry… I…” I tried to get up and pick up the empty bottle off the floor, but she cut in sharply.

“How dare you!” she yelled again.

I was confused. Completely disoriented.

Then I saw some of the servants bringing my load downstairs. That snapped me back into full consciousness.

I rushed toward them, shouting, “Where the f**k are you taking my stuff to?!”

She pushed me back, stopping me.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she snapped. “After everything my son has done for you, this is how you betray him?”

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about, ma,” I said, trembling.

“You don’t know?” She laughed ferociously, almost manically.

“Get out of my sight! Gold-digger!” she screamed, pushing me toward the door again. “I warned him against people like you, but he wouldn’t listen. Just look at this now.”

I nudged over the center table as she shoved me again. I felt helpless. I didn’t understand what was going on.

Then I saw John—and my heart swelled with relief.

I rushed toward him—but he pushed me away too.

Then I saw Tricia come in with her son.

Their eyes narrowed on me like I was some disgusting piece of trash. I didn’t just look and smell like shit—I felt like it.

“Baby, what’s going on?” I asked, eyes brimming with tears as I stepped closer to him, but he took a few steps back.

My heart sank. My stomach churned.

Is this a nightmare? I asked myself.

I watched as Tricia gently comforted John right in front of me.

“John, it’s me. It’s Liv. What’s—” I moved closer, but he cut me off.

“I was willing to give up everything for you, Liv,” he began, his voice laced with bitterness and pain. “I chose you over my family. You begged me to take over my father’s company after he died—I never wanted to. But I did it. For you. I did everything to make you happy, and this is what I get?”

He slammed a bunch of papers into my face. I grabbed them as they fell, flipping through—and my entire existence crumbled.

It was my name. My bank accounts. Records of embezzled millions of dollars linked to me. My hometown. My location. Everything.

John… this isn’t real,” I stammered. “I had no part in this. I swear, John, I don’t know who did this. But it’s not me!”

My voice cracked. Tears streamed down my face as I dropped to my knees, clutching his legs.

But he wasn’t done.

“There are confession videos, Liv. People you paid—they confessed after we threatened jail time. They named you. The receipts are all here. Don’t even try to deny it.”

“John, no… please…” I sobbed. My nose was running. I was a wreck, and they were all watching—Tricia, his mother. No pity in their eyes.

John began walking toward the stairs. I clung to him, desperate.

Then he stopped.

I stood, trying to reach for his hand, his face—anything. He looked at me for just a second before turning away.

“For the love I once had for you,” he said, voice hollow, “I won’t involve the police. I won’t ask for the money back. Just stay away from me. And my family.”

“John… I am your family,” I cried, grabbing his arm.

He yanked it free. “Not anymore. My mother was right. You’re a gold-digger. And I never thought I’d say this—but I regret ever knowing you.”

I turned to his mother. Her face dripped with fake sympathy. Tricia wore a victorious smirk.

I stepped back. It hit me.

They won.

They did this.

They set me up.

I looked at John one last time. He refused to meet my eyes.

“They set me up, John,” I whispered. “I swear I would never do this. Please, believe me.”

Silence.

He stood still, staring at the evidence scattered on the floor.

“Okay, time’s up,” his mother said, her voice like ice. She didn’t flinch as she signaled the security guards.

They came for me like I was trash.

“No! Don’t touch me!” I screamed, struggling as they grabbed my arms.

“John! John, please! Look at me!” I cried, my voice hoarse and breaking. “You know me! You know I’d never do this to you!”

He didn’t move. He didn’t say a word.

He just stood there, back turned, head bowed like I was a stranger who no longer mattered. Like everything we’d ever shared—every moment, every promise—had turned to dust.

“JOHN!” I shrieked, fighting against the guards now dragging me across the marble floor. “Please! Don’t let them do this to me!”

He raised his head just slightly.

For a brief second, I thought he might turn.

I thought the man I loved would come back to me.

But then Tricia appeared beside him, her hand resting on his shoulder, and just like that… he turned away.

Tears flooded my eyes, burning hot, blinding me.

I screamed again, louder this time, like the pain could tear through walls.

“They set me up! They set me up, John!” I sobbed. “I would never steal from you! I gave you everything—I chose you!”

He kept walking.

Up the stairs.

Away from me.

Away from us.

Tricia followed, holding their son.

His mother watched it all with twisted satisfaction, arms folded like a queen overseeing the execution of a traitor.

And then I knew.

They had planned this. Every single move. The evidence. The lies. The humiliation.

I was just the fool who believed in love.

As the front door opened and I was dragged out like a criminal, I screamed one last time.

“JOHN!”

But the door slammed shut behind me.

And just like that—

My home was gone.

My husband was gone.

My life… was gone.