Divorcing My Unfaithful Billionaire HusbandChapter 1
Athena’s P.O.V
Red…
That seemed to be the most prominent color in my life at the moment. Yesterday, it spilled down my thighs, painting my skin in a horrifying crimson river that stole my future.
Today, it bloomed vibrantly in a dozen roses sitting arrogantly on the tiny side table, the only color in the otherwise chrome room. My hands pressed over my swollen stomach and tears welled in my eyes, blurring the edges of the crimson petals.
Were they the same shade? I wondered. The roses and the life I bled out alone… at the bottom of the stairs. Guess I’d probably never know. I wasn’t sure if I’d tripped or if the world had just decided to tilt beneath my feet. One moment, I was leaving our bedroom, heading downstairs to the kitchen to get water, and also calling my husband to remind him about our anniversary dinner tomorrow. I knew he’d likely forgotten while hyper-focusing on his billion-dollar deals and mistresses.
The next, I was sprawled at the bottom of the grand staircase, my flimsy nightgown barely protecting my skin from the cold I couldn’t even feel. I screamed, but it died in the vastness of our fucking house. Even if my voice could escape our house, there were no neighbors to hear. The fucking secluded mansion in the woods. It was a decision I had always hated, moving us into this mansion last year.
‘I love the privacy and it’s the space you’ve always wanted away from my family’ he had said.
Well, it cost us our baby.
A choked sob escaped me as my brain trapped me in the past.
One wrong step. That was the only explanation the cops could offer. They said the cameras in our mansion confirmed only that I’d fallen. They said the pressure I’d felt against my back, shoving me forward was all my imagination. I was stressed, they said–all my imagination.
But the fucking impact when I landed on the floor wasn’t a fantasy. The world dissolved into a white-hot spark of agony and crimson bloomed where white had been…the floor…my gown…my skin…red… I fucking hate that color so much. It stole everything from me!
“Please,” I rasped, the word tearing at my raw throat as I lay immobile, bleeding, pregnant with a broken ankle. “Please, I would give my life to Christ if you save her. Please God, not the baby. You can take anything but not my baby.”