I'll Raise His Mistress's Baby - Chapter 8: Chapter 8

Book: I'll Raise His Mistress's Baby Chapter 8 2025-10-07

You are reading I'll Raise His Mistress's Baby, Chapter 8: Chapter 8. Read more chapters of I'll Raise His Mistress's Baby.

Tears of unbearable pain flooded Herbert's eyes, spilling down his face in an unstoppable torrent.
He clawed desperately through the wreckage of everything I'd destroyed. Shards of glass sliced his hands open, blood dripping onto the debris, but he kept searching—frantic to find any trace I might have left behind.
Then his vision went black. A mouthful of blood sprayed from his lips as he crumpled to the floor, unconscious.
When Herbert came to, he was in a hospital bed. My assistant Tiffany had found him.
Her eyes were swollen red, burning with pure hatred when she looked at him. "I came looking for Ms. Brown," she spat. "Instead, I found you lying there in a pool of your own blood. If I hadn't been worried you'd die, I would've left you there to rot."
Her voice trembled with rage. "You make me sick. You have no idea how much she loved you. You're garbage—you never deserved her."
Tears spilled down Tiffany's cheeks as Herbert lunged forward from the bed. "Do you know where Samantha is? Please—tell me! I can't breathe without her!"
Tiffany recoiled like he was contagious. Her next words hit him like a executioner's axe.
"Ms. Brown came back early to surprise you. But she never went home. She tracked you to that bar instead."
The truth detonated in Herbert's skull.
So she knew. This whole time, Samantha watched me lie to her face. She saw every pathetic excuse, every betrayal—until she couldn't take it anymore.
The realization tore his heart clean open. Sobs wracked his body as he slammed his fists into the floor, reopening wounds, not caring about the pain.
The hospital room was icy, wind howling through the silence.
Then he remembered—our wedding night. My lips brushing his ear as I shared my parents' story.
"Herbert, I used to hate my father for choosing my mother over me... but God, how I envy what they had. Eighteen years—not days, not months. A billionaire who could've had anyone, yet spent every second dreaming of her."
My fingers had tightened around his. "That's the love I want. So if you ever stop loving me, just... take me to lunch on some sunny afternoon. I'll walk away with my head high. But if you lie to me?" A cold smile. "I'll disappear so completely, you'll spend the rest of your life searching. And regretting."
Herbert had dropped to his knees that night, swearing to the heavens: "I'll only ever love Samantha. If I betray her, let me die screaming—unworthy of even seeing her in the next life."
Back then, he'd meant every word.
He had loved me more than his own heartbeat. If it came down to it, he'd have died for me without hesitation.
So how? How had he thrown it all away?
The hospital rooftop wind slapped his face like punishment. Suicide whispered in his ear—every second without me was agony.
Just as he lifted his foot to step into nothingness, a thought stopped him:
She never filed for divorce.
Hope, sick and desperate, flared in his chest. She's waiting for me to find her.
A crazed grin split his face. "Yes," he muttered to the empty air. "When I beg for forgiveness, she'll take me back. Samantha, my love... I'm coming."

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