Betrayed by the Husband, Protected by the Don
My husband of five years, Eric Vale, came home drunk again. As I laid him in our bed, he murmured, “Don’t worry, my love… I’ll take care of you and our baby.”
My heart stopped.
Baby? We’d been on birth control since the day we married. There was no baby.
I shook him lightly. “What are you talking about, Eric?”
He blinked at me, confused, then smiled like nothing had happened. “Hey, babe… did I say something?”
The next morning, I checked our joint account. Every month, ten thousand dollars had been wired to a woman named Bella Evers.
Yesterday, he sent two hundred thousand more—with a note: I can’t wait for our baby to be born.
Bella was Eric’s mistress and was now six months pregnant.
So I made one call.
“Papa,” I told the most feared Don in the South, “I’m getting a divorce.”
I glanced at my sleeping husband. “I want him gone. And I want him broke.”