My Husband Secretly Played Daddy to His Mistress's Kid?Time to Destroy Them For My Daughter! - Chapter 27: Chapter 27

Magnus didn't die.
The bullet grazed his skull, taking half his life and his identity as heir to Everhart Corporation.
He lay in intensive care for three full months. When he woke, though he'd survived, he was left with severe complications.
His right leg's nerves were damaged, leaving him with a permanent limp. His hands trembled constantly—he couldn't even hold a pen steady.
More importantly, old Mr. Everhart was completely disappointed in him.
An heir who would seek death over a woman, disregarding family interests, was the Everhart family's greatest shame.
After Magnus was discharged, he was completely stripped of power.
Old Mr. Everhart adopted a capable grandson from a branch family, who officially became Everhart Corporation's new heir.
Magnus was forgotten by the family, returning to live alone in the empty ancestral home, accompanied only by endless silence.
Odessa's verdict also came down.
Multiple crimes should have meant immediate execution.
But Odessa showed severe mental breakdown symptoms in prison. The court finally commuted her sentence to a two-year suspended death penalty.
She was sent to New York's most secure psychiatric hospital.
Everyone thought she could at least survive two years.
But they forgot that though Magnus had lost power, his inherent ruthlessness remained unchanged.
He hated Odessa—that hatred even exceeded his self-hatred.
He bribed the psychiatric hospital's doctors and nurses.
He told them: "I don't want her to die too easily. I want her alive, but I want her to truly go insane."
Thus began Odessa's "good days" at the psychiatric hospital.
Daily, she was strapped to a bed for maximum-intensity electroshock therapy.
At first, she tried pleading, crying "Magnus, save me."
Later, she didn't even have strength to cry, her eyes becoming vacant and hollow.
Eventually, she truly went mad.
She would hold a pillow, calling it "Magnus," crying and laughing at thin air.
She would wake at midnight screaming "Marina, don't touch me," then wet the bed in terror.
Magnus occasionally received videos from his subordinates.
In them, the once-beautiful Verrier heiress had become emaciated and filthy, like a truly rabid dog.
He watched expressionlessly, feeling no satisfaction.
He'd gotten revenge on Odessa, but Marina would never return.
One year later.
Magnus had recovered enough to walk slowly with a cane.
Using a false identity, he quietly started a new life in California.
He didn't disturb Marina, only watched from afar.
He rented a car, parking daily at the street corner opposite Marina's home.
He saw how each morning, Gideon would drive Eli to school while Marina stood at the door, smiling and waving goodbye.
Her smile was bright and warm.
He saw how each evening, the family of three would shop at the nearby supermarket.
Eli sat in the shopping cart holding a lollipop, Gideon pushed the cart, Marina carefully selected vegetables.
Like any ordinary family, they were filled with simple happiness.
He saw how on weekends, they'd take Eli for picnics on the park lawn.
Gideon played soccer with Eli while Marina sat nearby, watching them tenderly.
Eli had grown considerably taller. He would loudly call Gideon "Daddy."
Each time Magnus heard that "Daddy," his heart felt flayed alive.
Like a pathetic voyeur, he greedily spied on the happiness that should have been his, while being tormented by it repeatedly.
That evening, Marina and Gideon strolled through their yard.
Eli chased a butterfly on the distant grass.
Walking side by side, they spoke of something that made Marina suddenly laugh. She stood on tiptoe and planted a gentle kiss on Gideon's lips.
Gideon was momentarily stunned, then smiled too. He lowered his head, tenderly and preciously deepening the kiss.
The sunset stretched their shadows long and intertwined.
Magnus sat in his car across the street, quietly watching this scene.
He had the driver start the engine, turn around, and slowly drive in the direction completely opposite to that sunset.
In the rearview mirror, those two kissing figures grew smaller and more blurred.
Marina Everlyn and Leander Everhart had been married for five blissful years, choosing to remain child-free. Their life together was everything they'd dreamed of.
Until that phone call changed everything.
"Marina, I need to tell you something," his voice was strained through the receiver. "Marla Crowley—you know, the scholarship student I've been helping—she's pregnant. She... she stolen my sperm from our used condoms."
Her world tilted. "What are you saying?"
"We never slept together, I swear. I was going to take her to get an abortion, but my family found out. They're threatening to disown me if I don't keep this baby."
Through her tears, Marina whispered, "Okay."
But nothing was okay after that day.
The man who used to roll his eyes at crying babies in restaurants was suddenly devouring pregnancy books. He attended every ultrasound appointment, spent weekends setting up a nursery, and spoke about prenatal vitamins with the enthusiasm he once reserved for their weekend getaways.
When the fire broke out at the company retreat, Marina watched in horror as Leander scooped Marla into his arms without a second's hesitation.
"Leander!" Marina's voice cracked as smoke filled her lungs. "I'm over here! Help me!"
His footsteps faltered. Through the haze, their eyes met for one agonizing moment. She saw something flicker across his face—conflict, maybe even recognition.
Then Marla's panicked voice cut through: "Leander, please, we have to go! The baby—"
"I've got you," he murmured, his voice gentle in a way that made Marina's chest ache. "Our family of three is getting out of here safe."
Our family of three.
Those words hit harder than the burning beam that crashed down moments later, pinning Marina beneath its weight.
As consciousness slipped away, her mind drifted to another accident five years ago. Rain had been pelting the sidewalk when a truck jumped the curb. Without thinking, she'd shoved Leander out of harm's way, taking the full impact herself.
She remembered waking up to devastating news: the internal damage meant she'd never carry children.
"We should end this," she'd told him through tears on her discharge day. "You're the Everhart heir. Your family needs kids."
But Leander had pressed her against the hospital room wall, kissing her breathless: "Are you insane? I only want you. If we can't have children, we'll be one of those couples who travels the world instead of changing diapers. I'll deal with my family."
And he had dealt with them. He'd knelt in the family chapel for twenty-four hours, enduring ninety-nine lashes and their rage, until finally his grandfather had thrown up his hands in defeat.
On their wedding day, Leander had cupped her face with shaking hands, his eyes brimming with tears: "You're all I'll ever need in this lifetime, Marina. Just you."
And now, he was holding another woman in his arms, whispering about “our family of three.”
The flames devoured Marina’s final thread of consciousness.
Fine. Let them play their perfect family of three.