My Husband's Secret Son Needs My Baby to Live - Chapter 8: Chapter 8
You are reading My Husband's Secret Son Needs My Baby to Live, Chapter 8: Chapter 8. Read more chapters of My Husband's Secret Son Needs My Baby to Live.
I saw Jake, the furry little guy I'd loved for ten years, locked in a cage. The moment he spotted me, his tail went wild with excitement.
At first, he pawed at the cage door frantically, then turned to me with helpless eyes.
I was so desperate to save him that I forgot—Marlon wasn't just some guy. He was a ruthless business tycoon who had a million ways to break people.
And yet, to save Isaias, he'd stooped this low.
"Let Jake go!" I shouted. "Marlon, have you no shame? Using Jake to manipulate me?"
Marlon stepped closer, his eyes bloodshot. He took my hand and pressed a reverent kiss to it.
"Margaret, stop. I was wrong. I didn't think about how you'd feel. You've raised Jake like a child for ten years. You're terrified for him—so why can't you understand how terrified I am for Isaias?"
His voice softened. "Isaias hasn't been well these past two days. I've realized… you and Melanie just aren't right for each other. Mrs. Taylor's back from vacation. Come home with me. Take care of your baby."
My answer was a sharp slap across his face.
That night, Marlon dragged me back home.
He changed every lock in the house. Put me under house arrest.
Every other day, he'd show up, asking about my meals, my health, my mood.
He tried everything to win me over—gourmet food, lavish jewelry, grand gestures.
He played the part of the devoted, repentant husband perfectly.
But none of it could mask the faint trace of daisy perfume clinging to him every time he walked in.
My sense of smell had sharpened since the pregnancy.
And I knew that scent. Melanie's. I'd only caught it once before, but it was burned into my memory.
So whenever Marlon got close, all I could picture was him lying beside her the night before. The thought made me sick to my stomach.
I had to get out.
That was the only thought left in my head.
One day, he stayed home to take care of me—morning sickness had hit hard.
But by evening, his phone rang. I didn't need to guess who it was. Melanie, summoning him.
Sure enough, five minutes later, he leaned down, kissed my forehead, and murmured a goodbye. I kept my eyes shut, pretending to sleep.
The second the door closed, I bolted upright.
I grabbed the gold jewelry I'd hidden under the bed and threw myself at Mrs. Taylor's feet.
"Please," I begged, shoving the necklaces into her hands. "Let me go. Marlon doesn't love me. I can't live like this."
She looked stunned, trying to hand the jewelry back. "Madam, get up—you're pregnant!"
She was my only chance.
So I snatched the fruit knife from the table and pressed it to her throat.
At first, he pawed at the cage door frantically, then turned to me with helpless eyes.
I was so desperate to save him that I forgot—Marlon wasn't just some guy. He was a ruthless business tycoon who had a million ways to break people.
And yet, to save Isaias, he'd stooped this low.
"Let Jake go!" I shouted. "Marlon, have you no shame? Using Jake to manipulate me?"
Marlon stepped closer, his eyes bloodshot. He took my hand and pressed a reverent kiss to it.
"Margaret, stop. I was wrong. I didn't think about how you'd feel. You've raised Jake like a child for ten years. You're terrified for him—so why can't you understand how terrified I am for Isaias?"
His voice softened. "Isaias hasn't been well these past two days. I've realized… you and Melanie just aren't right for each other. Mrs. Taylor's back from vacation. Come home with me. Take care of your baby."
My answer was a sharp slap across his face.
That night, Marlon dragged me back home.
He changed every lock in the house. Put me under house arrest.
Every other day, he'd show up, asking about my meals, my health, my mood.
He tried everything to win me over—gourmet food, lavish jewelry, grand gestures.
He played the part of the devoted, repentant husband perfectly.
But none of it could mask the faint trace of daisy perfume clinging to him every time he walked in.
My sense of smell had sharpened since the pregnancy.
And I knew that scent. Melanie's. I'd only caught it once before, but it was burned into my memory.
So whenever Marlon got close, all I could picture was him lying beside her the night before. The thought made me sick to my stomach.
I had to get out.
That was the only thought left in my head.
One day, he stayed home to take care of me—morning sickness had hit hard.
But by evening, his phone rang. I didn't need to guess who it was. Melanie, summoning him.
Sure enough, five minutes later, he leaned down, kissed my forehead, and murmured a goodbye. I kept my eyes shut, pretending to sleep.
The second the door closed, I bolted upright.
I grabbed the gold jewelry I'd hidden under the bed and threw myself at Mrs. Taylor's feet.
"Please," I begged, shoving the necklaces into her hands. "Let me go. Marlon doesn't love me. I can't live like this."
She looked stunned, trying to hand the jewelry back. "Madam, get up—you're pregnant!"
She was my only chance.
So I snatched the fruit knife from the table and pressed it to her throat.
End of My Husband's Secret Son Needs My Baby to Live Chapter 8. Continue reading Chapter 9 or return to My Husband's Secret Son Needs My Baby to Live book page.