It all started a few months back. One day, I was just killing time scrolling through TikTok when I randomly saw something about applying for a marriage license online through the state website. My boyfriend, Mark Evans, and I had been living together for about six months. We work in the same field; Mark’s five years older and is the associate editor at one of the big city papers. We met covering the same news event. He liked my work ethic and tried to recruit me to his paper. I turned him down, but we hit it off and got close pretty quickly. Mark had that smart, thoughtful vibe you get from guys who read a lot. Plus, he was funny, charming, tall, and handsome. Two months later, things just clicked, and we were officially together. He was driven at work, pulling all-nighters to chase a story, but he was always sweet and considerate to me. In the six months we were together, we never fought once. He remembered every anniversary and holiday, always with a thoughtful gift. Then came the surprise – you play with fire, you get burned. I got pregnant. When I told him, Mark said he was right in the middle of a major career push, and I was still technically an intern at my paper. Having a baby right now wasn't great for either of our careers. He made sense, so I went to see a doctor. Unexpectedly, the doctor told me I have an arcuate uterus – kinda saddle-shaped. She said an abortion procedure would likely damage it, making it really hard to get pregnant again later. She strongly recommended keeping the baby. I passed the doctor’s advice onto Mark. He hesitated for just a second, then didn't argue anymore. He promised me that as soon as things settled down at work, we'd go get the marriage license. So, when I saw that online marriage license application thing, it seemed kinda cool, like something fun to try out. I eagerly went to the state services portal, selected "Marriage License Application," but no dice. I tried a few times, and it failed every time. That felt weird. Usually, if the site’s busy, you get an error message. But this was just… failure, no explanation. Something clicked. I switched over to the "Verify Marital Status" option – I know, kinda sketchy, but I had a bad feeling. The result hit me like a ton of bricks: Mark Evans was already married. I was the other woman?! Touching my belly, I just sat there, stunned, unable to process it. As a journalist, I've seen plenty of messed-up situations and ugly truths about people. But I couldn't believe the man I shared my bed with for half a year could deceive me like this. Mark, the guy I thought was my perfect match, was just another cheating scumbag. I leaned back on the sofa, taking deep breaths to calm the storm inside me. Mark had covered his tracks incredibly well. I even had a few friends at his newspaper, and none of them knew he was married. How could I possibly get justice for myself against someone so meticulous, someone with a decent reputation in the journalism world? Was breaking up my only option? That evening, Mark cooked a nice dinner. I forced a smile while we ate, but my mind was racing. Were all those times he claimed to be working late actually spent with his wife? Did he cook for her at home too, laughing and talking with another woman…? I tossed and turned all night. Once I was sure Mark was fast asleep, I grabbed his phone, unlocked it with the passcode I’d sneakily memorized, and slipped into the bathroom to snoop. Well, wasn't that a kick in the teeth. Mark wasn't just married; he had a three-year-old son, a cute little guy. There was a family photo – the three of them, smiling, looking perfectly happy and sweet. Everything proved I was just some homewrecker. My hands wouldn't stop shaking; I could barely hold the phone. It was almost funny, in a sick way. Usually, it's the wife checking her husband's phone for evidence of an affair. Here I was, the mistress, checking his phone for info on the wife. I managed a bitter smirk, but tears streamed down my face, hitting the dark screen. The phone reflected my tear-streaked, pathetic face back at me. That night, Mark slept soundly, his breathing deep and even. I didn't sleep a wink, just listened to him breathe in the darkness, replaying every moment of our time together. Even now, part of me didn't want to believe I'd fallen for a complete lie. I remembered that first assignment where we met – there was a minor landslide, and his first instinct was to shield me with his body. When we were out walking, he’d naturally kneel down to tie my shoelace if it came undone. Passing by a bridal shop, he’d excitedly talk about what our wedding would be like. And the ring he gave me – he said it was to lock me down, to cherish me forever… Tears soaked the pillow, dampening that soft spot deep inside me. A desperate, self-deceiving thought popped into my head. Maybe… maybe he and his wife had fallen out of love? Maybe he was planning to divorce her and then tell me the truth? 2 The next day, I put on some light makeup to hide the dark circles from my sleepless night and took a cab to the neighborhood near Mark’s house – his real house. There’s that cynical online joke: How do you deceive a woman? The top answer is: You don't have to. If she loves you, she'll deceive herself. My first reaction to seeing that was scorn. I thought I was a modern, rational woman. But faced with this, I realized I was just like most women, clinging to the slimmest hope against deceit. I needed to see what kind of woman Mark's wife was. If she was crass, or let herself go, maybe my desperate theory held water… A thousand thoughts spun in my head as I slowly walked towards the residential complex. A chilling sensation started low in my belly. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but I felt dizzy and weak, my breathing getting heavier. A man walking towards me bumped my shoulder lightly. My legs buckled, and I just crumpled to the sidewalk. "What the hell! Are you trying to pull a scam?" The man jumped back, pointing around. "Look, there are cameras everywhere! If you're looking for a payout, try somewhere else." I weakly shook my head, trying to ask him to help me up, but he just shot me an annoyed glare and walked off. The cold feeling in my abdomen intensified, followed by a sharp, stabbing pain. Something warm started trickling down my thigh… Blood. My hands trembled as I fumbled for my phone to call 911, but it was like all my strength had vanished. The phone slipped from my grasp, hit the pavement, and the screen went black. "Miss? Miss, are you okay?" An older woman rushed over to help me, but when she saw the blood, she abruptly pulled her hand back, stepped away, and yelled, "Oh my God, blood!" "Help me… call 911…" I begged, my lips trembling, my voice barely a whisper. A crowd was gathering, but no one stepped forward to help. Waves of pain washed over me. As I lost more blood, my consciousness started to fade. Just before everything went dark, someone finally took my icy hand. A gentle but firm voice said in my ear, "Don't worry, the ambulance is almost here." Her hand felt warm and steady, giving me a thread of hope to cling to. I looked up fuzzily at her face, and then everything went black… "Nurse, today's my son's birthday, I really need to get home. Could you please keep an extra eye on her?" I heard muffled voices outside the hospital room door as I slowly opened my eyes, staring blankly at the white ceiling tiles. "Oh, you're awake?" A nurse came in and handed me a small piece of paper. "Someone already paid your medical bills. Here’s her contact info. You really lucked out meeting someone so kind." I nodded my thanks and took the note. Written in neat, elegant handwriting was a name, Jessica Miller, and a phone number. I’d actually been awake for a while, just didn't know how to face her, so I pretended to be asleep. Jessica Miller. Mark's wife. I never imagined we'd meet like this. That evening, I didn't call Mark. I didn't tell him the baby was gone. Among all those cold, indifferent onlookers, Jessica was the only one who reached out, who offered warmth. Her son deserved a happy, perfect birthday party. Mark needed to be there. Consider it my way of repaying her kindness. 3 Late that night, alone in the cold hospital bed, staring into the darkness, I replayed everything that had happened since I found out I was pregnant. It was laughable how I thought I was so smart. I had to admit it – Mark had played me, completely. Earlier, the doctor had explained something to me. Certain medications, especially when taken improperly or mixed, could be incredibly dangerous during pregnancy, potentially causing severe bleeding if the dosage wasn't exact. She mentioned something that shouldn't be ingested during pregnancy. I'd never bought or taken anything like that. I genuinely wanted this baby. Ever since I found out, I hadn't eaten out once, carefully preparing all my own food. The only person who could have tampered with my meals… was Mark. Thank God they got me to the hospital quickly. The baby was gone, but my uterus was okay. I could still be a mother someday. I calmly thanked the doctor, but inside, it felt like someone was twisting a knife in my gut, shredding everything. This man… he hadn't just played with my feelings; he'd actively tried to harm my body this way. And I'd actually spent the previous night trying to make excuses for him, hoping he had some hidden reason. The truth was, he wasn't just a deceitful, cheating liar; he was a cold-blooded monster. No, even animals protect their young. Mark Evans… he was worse than an animal. My fists clenched slowly in the silent darkness, the sound of my knuckles cracking echoing faintly. The next day, still weak, I went back to our apartment. Just as I expected, the kitchen trash was empty. No trace of whatever he might have used. Mark found out the baby was gone and rushed back, pretending to be worried, showering me with fake concern, blaming himself for not taking better care of me. Looking at his phony face made me sick to my stomach. I just told him I was tired and curled up in bed, not wanting to waste a single word on him. Losing the baby that way was hard on my body. I took a month off work to recover. During the first week, I used every contact I had to dig up everything I could on Mark and Jessica. A plan started forming in my mind. My feelings about Jessica were complicated. I was grateful she’d helped me when I was on the verge of death. But she and Mark were husband and wife. My revenge against Mark would inevitably affect her. After thinking it over and over, once I felt physically stronger, the first person I contacted was Jessica. She looked just as she had the first time I saw her – a well-fitting business suit, hair pulled back neatly, projecting an air of sharp, sophisticated beauty that made you look twice. We met at a quiet coffee shop. Jessica ordered an iced Americano after sitting down. I secretly breathed a sigh of relief – if things got heated and she decided to throw her coffee at me, at least it wouldn’t be scalding hot. "Thank you for taking me to the hospital that day," I started. "Don't mention it. After all, we're practically acquaintances," Jessica replied, a faint smile playing on her lips. I was slightly taken aback. That day was definitely the first time we'd met. Jessica stirred her coffee elegantly. "Chloe Davis, editor at the Metro Journal," she said slowly, her red lips forming the words clearly. "You're Mark's mistress. I'm Mark's wife. Wouldn't you say that makes us acquaintances?" I thought Jessica would be the one shocked when the truth came out. Instead, I was the one stunned into silence. "You knew?" I managed to ask, my voice strained. Jessica shook her head. "Not for long. When I took you to the hospital, I was trying to find an emergency contact in your phone. Let's just say I saw some things I wasn't supposed to." "So I hired a private investigator. Looked into you two," Jessica’s eyes held a flicker of disdain. "Did you ask me here today to lay it all out? Ask me to step aside?" I watched her quietly. Jessica was even smarter than I thought, and she had incredible composure. That was good. It increased the chances of my plan succeeding. "Did your private investigator tell you how I lost my baby?" My voice was ice cold. Jessica raised an eyebrow, shaking her head slightly. "Mark slipped something into my food. Something that caused me to lose the baby. It almost killed me too – I hemorrhaged, nearly bled out." As a mother herself, the pain of losing a child struck a chord with Jessica. A flash of pity crossed her eyes before she looked down and took a sip of her coffee. My research indicated that Jessica's father had left her mother for another woman when Jessica was in elementary school. Her mother poured everything into her work, building up her investment company over the years, but had little time left for Jessica. Because of her family history, Jessica had even seen a therapist. Betrayal within a family was something she likely couldn't tolerate. After a long silence, I laid my cards on the table. "Mark hid his marriage from me. That's the only reason I dated him. He betrayed his marriage, and he hurt me badly. I don't plan on letting him get away with it. What about you?" Jessica pressed her lips together, then suddenly looked up, a bright smile spreading across her face. "Perhaps… we should team up." We looked at each other and smiled, raising our coffee cups in a silent toast. The alliance was formed. Mark Evans. Everything he valued – his career, his ambition, his money, his reputation – we were going to destroy it all. Leave nothing behind.
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "392180", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel