- My Husband Be @t Me And Threw Me Into A Storm For His Mistress. He Didn’t Know Who My Father Really Was.
PART 3
Grant slowly lowered the phone, his face completely hollowed out by fear. The screen slipped from his numb fingers and shattered on the porch tiles.
My father didn’t wait for him to process the shock. He didn’t look at Grant anymore. He turned his attention entirely to me.
In two long strides, Arthur was at my side. The terrifying aura that made hardened criminals bow down melted away the moment he looked down at my face. He dropped to his knees right there in the streaming rainwater, unbothered by the mud or his expensive suit.
« Claire, » he whispered, his voice thick with a gentle, fierce pain. His large, calloused hand gently cupped my undamaged cheek. « I’ve got you, sweetheart. Dad’s here. »
« The baby… » I choked out, my teeth chattering uncontrollably from the cold and the pain in my ribs. « Dad, the baby… »
« I know, » he said softly, resting his palm over my hands, which were still locked around my stomach. « I know. You’re going to be okay. Both of you. »
He signaled back toward the lead SUV. A woman in dark medical scrubs stepped out immediately, carrying a compact, high-tech emergency medical kit. She moved with quiet, practiced efficiency, kneeling beside us and gently wrapping a thick, thermal blanket around my shoulders.
« Vital signs are stable, Mr. Vance, » the medic reported after a quick assessment. « Her pulse is high from shock, and there’s suspected rib trauma, but her abdominal region is shielded. We need to transport her to Saint Jude’s private wing immediately. »
« Take her, » Arthur ordered softly. « Prepare the trauma suite. I want the best obstetrician in the state waiting at the door. »
« Yes, sir. »
Two men carefully lifted me onto a portable gurney, treating me as if I were made of glass. As they began rolling me toward the middle SUV, my father stood up.
The warmth in his eyes disappeared instantly. When he turned back toward the house, he was no longer a worried father. He was the sovereign ruler of a shadow empire.
Behind Grant, the front door opened slightly. Vanessa Cole peeked out, wrapped in my silk robe, her arms crossed against the chill wind. She looked confused, her eyes darting between the armed men and Grant’s frozen figure.
« Grant? » she called out, trying to sound cute, though her voice wavered with uncertainty. « What’s going on? Who are these people? Make them leave, it’s freezing! »
She stepped out onto the porch, the soft light from the entryway catching the subtle shimmer of the white pearls dangling from her ears.
My father’s eyes locked onto those pearls.
A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the yard. Even the wind seemed to die down for a second.
« Marcus, » my father said softly.
A tall man standing to Arthur’s right stepped forward instantly. Marcus was Arthur’s most trusted lieutenant—a man whose name was whispered with dread in every back alley and boardroom across three states.
« Sir? » Marcus replied, bowing his head slightly.
« The woman is wearing my late wife’s pearls, » Arthur said, his tone devoid of any emotion. « Take them back. »
Vanessa’s eyes widened in shock. « What? Hey! You can’t touch me! Grant, tell them! »
Grant couldn’t speak. His throat was completely locked. He tried to raise an arm to block Marcus, but before he could even lift his hand, two of Arthur’s men stepped forward, grabbing Grant by the shoulders and forcing him to his knees on the hard stone porch.
« Let go of me! » Grant screamed, finally breaking his silence as terror took over. « Claire! Tell your father to stop! Claire! »
I looked out through the tinted glass of the SUV as the medic adjusted my thermal blanket. I didn’t say a word. I didn’t feel pity. I didn’t feel regret.
For three years, I had loved Grant with everything I had. I had concealed my family’s immense wealth and dangerous reputation because I wanted a normal life. I wanted to build something real with a man who loved me for *me*, not for my father’s money or power.
I had cooked his meals. I had supported his struggling logistics business with subtle, anonymous financial boosts arranged through my father’s connections. I had endured his rising arrogance as his business began to succeed—never telling him that his biggest clients were actually shell companies owned by my family.
And in return, he had brought his mistress into my home. He had let her wear my dead grandmother’s most cherished gift. And when I asked for it back, he had beaten me until my ribs cracked, uncaring of my life or the life growing inside me.
The time for mercy was over.
Marcus walked up the steps toward Vanessa. She backed away, screaming, slipping on the wet tiles and falling backward onto her hands.
« Get away from me! You freak! Get away! » she shrieked, kicking wildly.
Marcus didn’t hesitate. He knelt down, grabbed her hands to prevent her from scratching, and with precise, practiced gentle pressure, unclasped both pearl earrings from her ears.
He didn’t hurt her, but his cold, vacant stare terrified her so completely that she collapsed into hysterical sobs, curling into a ball on the porch floor.
Marcus walked back down the steps, pulling a velvet-lined wooden box from his coat. He placed the pearls inside, closed the lid, and handed the box through the open door of the SUV to me.
« For you, Miss Vance, » Marcus said respectfully.
I took the box and pressed it against my chest, tears finally spilling down my cheeks—not from pain, but from the relief of having the last piece of my grandmother back where it belonged.
« Thank you, Marcus, » I whispered.
The SUV door slid shut, sealing me into warmth and safety as the vehicle pulled away, escorted by the lead SUV.
Behind us, my father remained on the lawn, standing over Grant.
Grant was still on his knees, his pants soaked through from the wet concrete. Tears of absolute terror mingled with the rain on his face.
« Mr. Vance… please, » Grant begged, looking up at the towering figure of my father. « I didn’t know! I swear to God, I didn’t know she was your daughter! She never told me! She said her family was just… normal! »
Arthur looked down at him as if he were looking at an insect.
« My daughter wanted a simple life, » Arthur said softly. « She wanted a husband who loved her for her heart, not her name. I gave her my blessing to live that life. I stepped back. I let her pretend. »
Arthur took a step closer, bending down until his face was inches from Grant’s trembling, bloodless face.
« Do you know why her business succeeded so quickly, Grant? Do you know why your small trucking company suddenly received multi-million dollar contracts two years ago? »
Grant’s eyes widened. « What… what are you talking about? »
« Apex Freight. Northern Maritime. Vanguard Logistics, » Arthur listed off the names smoothly. « You thought you were a business genius, didn’t you? You thought you built an empire on your own. You didn’t build anything, Grant. I handed you those contracts. I built your company from behind the curtain so my daughter could live comfortably with a man she loved. »
The realization hit Grant like a physical blow. His jaw fell open. The very ground beneath his feet was crumbling. Everything he prided himself on—his wealth, his status, his success—was built entirely on the grace of the man standing in front of him.
« You didn’t just strike my daughter tonight, Grant, » Arthur continued, his voice dropping into a deadly whisper. « You destroyed the entire foundation of your existence. »
Arthur stood up straight and adjusted his cuffs.
« Marcus. »
« Yes, Mr. Vance? »
« By midnight, I want every contract with Grant’s company canceled. Terminate the leases on his warehouses. Call in every loan issued through our subsidiary banks. Freeze his personal and corporate accounts. »
« Consider it done, sir. »
« No! Please! No! » Grant shrieked, scrambling forward on his hands and knees to grab the hem of Arthur’s trousers. « Mr. Vance, please! I’ll beg her! I’ll get down on my hands and knees and beg Claire to forgive me! I’ll do anything! Please don’t ruin me! »
Arthur didn’t even kick him away. He simply stepped backward, letting Grant fall face-first onto the muddy wet grass.
« Ruin you? » Arthur asked, a ghost of a terrible smile touching his lips. « Grant, I’m not going to ruin you. Ruin implies you’ll have something left to rebuild. »
Arthur turned toward the remaining SUV.
« And Marcus? »
« Sir? »
« Notify the District Attorney. Tell him to pull the full domestic violence charge file. Include the video footage from the street security cameras my team just pulled from the neighbors’ houses. Make sure the charges include attempted murder of an unborn child. »
Grant’s eyes went completely wild with panic. « Attempted murder?! She… she didn’t tell me she was pregnant! »
Arthur stopped in his tracks. He didn’t turn around, but his shoulders went rigid.
« That, » Arthur said, « is the biggest mistake of your miserable life. »
My father stepped into the SUV, and the door closed with a heavy, final thud. The vehicle pulled away into the night, leaving Grant lying in the mud, crying hysterical tears into the storm, while Vanessa sobbed inside the open doorway, utterly abandoned.
***
Two hours later, I was lying in a private, state-of-the-art suite on the top floor of Saint Jude’s Hospital.
The room was quiet, bathed in the soft glow of monitoring screens. The smell of disinfectant was replaced by the warm, clean scent of fresh linens and lavender oil that my father had ordered to be brought in.
Dr. Aris, the chief of obstetrics, stepped back from the ultrasound machine with a warm, reassuring smile.
« Everything looks stable, Miss Vance, » Dr. Aris said softly, turning the screen so I could see it. « You have two fractured ribs on your right side, which will require rest and binding, but your protective posture saved your belly from direct impact. »
She pointed a small stylus at a tiny, pulsing dot on the dark monitor.
« There, » Dr. Aris whispered. « That’s the heartbeat. Strong, steady, and perfectly healthy. Your baby is a fighter. »
A deep, shuddering sob escaped my throat, and I pressed my hand over my mouth. Tears spilled over my eyes, but for the first time in hours, they were tears of pure, overwhelming joy.
My baby was safe.
The door to the suite slid open quietly, and my father walked in. He had changed out of his wet suit into a simple, dark cashmere sweater. The ruthless, terrifying ruler of the city was gone; standing there was just a father whose heart was breaking for his child.
He walked over to the side of the bed, sitting down in the leather armchair. He looked at the ultrasound screen, his eyes softening as he stared at the tiny flickering light.
« A heartbeat? » he asked softly.
« A strong one, Dad, » I whispered, reaching out to take his hand.
Arthur took my hand in both of his, bowing his head and pressing his forehead against my knuckles. I felt a single, warm tear drop onto my skin.
« I’m so sorry, Claire, » he rasped, his voice trembling with rare emotion. « I should have checked on him more closely. I should have seen what kind of man he was hiding beneath the surface. I let him hurt you. »
« No, Dad, » I said firmly, squeezing his hand as tightly as my weakened strength allowed. « You didn’t do this. He did. I chose to trust him. I chose to hide who I was because I was afraid of this world. But I’m not afraid anymore. »
My father looked up, his dark eyes searching my face.
« What do you want to do, sweetheart? » he asked quietly. « Whatever you decide, it’s done. You want him in prison for the rest of his life? It’s done. You want him stripped of every penny and left on the streets? It’s done. »
I looked down at the tiny wooden box resting on the bedside table—the velvet box containing my grandmother’s pearl earrings.
« I want my life back, » I said, my voice growing stronger with every word. « I want him to answer for every single thing he did. Not just to me, but to everyone he stepped on to build his fake ego. »
« Consider it handled, » Arthur said softly.
***
Over the next forty-eight hours, Grant’s world didn’t just fall apart—it ceased to exist.
By eight o’clock the following morning, the financial collapse began.
Grant walked into his corporate office building, bruised, exhausted, and desperately trying to salvage his business. But when he tried to swipe his keycard at the glass turnstiles, the alarm beeped red.
« Mr. Sterling, » the head of security said coldly, stepping forward with two guards. « Your lease on this floor was terminated at 6:00 AM today due to breach of corporate ethics clauses. You are no longer permitted on the premises. »
« What?! That’s impossible! I own the lease! » Grant shouted, his eyes bloodshot. « Call the building management! »
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