My Husband Slapped Me in Front of His Mistress and Ordered Me to Kneel—He Had No Idea His Entire Empire Was Built on My Fortune The slap came before I even felt the pain.
My Husband Slapped Me in Front of His Mistress and Ordered Me to Kneel—He Had No Idea His Entire Empire Was Built on My Fortune
The slap came before I even felt the pain.
The sound exploded through the marble mansion, sharp and brutal, echoing beneath the crystal chandeliers.
One second, I was standing beside the broken coffee table, my palm bleeding from the shattered glass.
The next—
My head turned violently from the force of his hand.
The entire room went silent.
The servants froze.
The guests looked down.
No one dared to speak.
Because everyone knew what had just happened.
My husband, Andrew Whitmore, slowly lowered his hand.
His eyes were filled with anger, not regret.
Beside him stood Brenda.
His mistress.
She wore a flawless crimson gown, holding onto his arm as if she were the one who needed protection.
Her expression was carefully crafted.
A little fear.
A little sadness.
A perfect performance.
The woman who had spent months destroying my marriage was now pretending to be the victim.