My $70k Nurse Trap - Chapter 5: Chapter 5

The house stood silent and empty. I waited by the door until the clock struck midnight before Margaret finally came home.
When she saw me standing there, raw panic flashed across her face. After a heartbeat's hesitation, she stepped forward, her voice dripping with guilt. "Luna, let's talk inside."
I knocked her hand off my shoulder. "How could you?" My voice cracked. "He raped me! You destroyed my life!"
Hot tears burned down my cheeks. The past forty-eight hours had broken me in ways I didn't know were possible.
Then Margaret did the unthinkable—she collapsed to her knees before me.
"Luna, it's all my fault." Her confession came out in a rush. "It was my plan. I gave Ethan that recording!"
White-hot rage surged through me. My jaw clenched so tight I tasted blood. "He's your husband!" I screamed. "You let him rape me? Why? I'm calling the cops—you're all going down!"
Blind fury took over. Before I could think, my palm connected with her cheek. A crimson handprint bloomed against her pale skin.
"I deserve this," she sobbed hysterically. "Hit me, hate me, do whatever—just don't call the police. If you do, we're ruined!"
She started slapping herself, wild and uncontrolled.
I let her. Watching her unravel gave me a sick satisfaction.
"Luna, I had no choice!"
"No choice?" I spat. "There's no excuse for what you did."
Margaret babbled on desperately. "Our marriage isn't perfect. I couldn't give Vincent children. He's threatened divorce for years."
"If one of his mistresses gets pregnant first, I lose everything. I won't go back to being nobody!"
"You're better than some gold-digger. Have his baby. After it's born, we'll disappear overseas. You'll get everything—this mansion, millions..."
"After all we've done for you and Ethan—"
I silenced her with another stinging slap.
This was her justification? My hands shook as I grabbed my phone. "Enough. You're going to prison."
"No!" She scrambled for my phone. "Luna, I wanted to give you everything!"
"Everything?" My laugh was bitter as burnt coffee. "Ethan's leaving me because of you!"
"So what?" Her eyes gleamed strangely. "With Vincent's baby, you'll have mansions, private jets, endless cash. Remember your travel dreams? You'd never afford that life alone."
Her words hit dangerously close to home. That $70k shopping spree had given me a taste—rich, heady, addictive.
"What do you want from me?" My voice was ice.
Relief flooded her face. "You've already slept with him. Your marriage is over. Divorce Ethan. Have the baby, take the money, live like royalty."
Something in her hungry expression made my skin crawl—like she was already counting down the days until I abandoned my husband.