WTF! My Fiancé's Mistress Turned My Prize Horse into My Little Pony Right Before Kentucky Derby?! - Chapter 12: Chapter 12
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                    Walking out of the house, the night breeze brushed against my cheeks.
Mom looked at me with concern:
"Wren, you knew all along?"
"Yes, Mom." I opened the car door. "Way longer than you think."
As we drove away from the Shaw estate, I spotted a silhouette behind the second-floor curtains—Nina's mother, watching our car like a hawk.
Her expression was lost in the shadows, but something about that stare felt familiar.
I couldn't shake the feeling I'd seen that look before.
A week later at my prenatal appointment, I was lying on the ultrasound table while the doctor pointed to the little figure on the screen:
"Baby's developing beautifully, and the placenta has moved up nicely. Nothing to worry about."
Walking out of the office, I spotted Nina clinging to Dante's arm, her bump more pronounced than mine.
Standing next to her was a young guy in a baseball cap, adjusting her scarf with movements so intimate it made my skin crawl.
His profile looked familiar, and suddenly it clicked—I'd seen him in the entertainment section. Zach Hayes, some C-list actor who'd done a web series with Nina.
Dante obviously hadn't noticed me, whispering something to Nina with eyes so tender they could melt butter.
But when Zach looked up, our eyes met. His pupils contracted in panic, and he quickly ducked his head, pulling the cap down even lower.
A wild but crystal-clear thought formed in my mind.
I pressed a hand to my belly and slowly approached.
When Nina saw me, her smile flickered for a split second before she plastered on fake concern:
"Wren! You're here for a checkup too? What a coincidence."
Only then did Dante turn around, frowning slightly:
"Why are you here alone? Why didn't you have the driver bring you?"
"No need, Mr. Shaw." My gaze slid past him to land squarely on Zach. "And this is...a friend of Ms. Porter's? You look familiar."
Zach's fingers nervously twisted the edge of Nina's scarf, his Adam's apple bobbing as words failed him.
Nina quickly jumped in:
"Oh, this is Zach Hayes—we worked together before. Just ran into him visiting a friend here."
She deliberately tightened her grip on Dante's arm. "Babe, we should head to the glucose tolerance test."
As they brushed past me, I caught a whiff of Zach's cologne—the exact same scent from that Paris children's boutique in Nina's manager's Instagram post.
The one captioned "Baby's first gift haul" with Zach's name clearly visible in the likes.
I didn't call them out then and there. After they were gone, I texted my assistant:
"Run a full background check on Zach Hayes. Focus on his interactions with Nina Porter over the past six months—financial records, social media, everything."
Three days later, my assistant placed a thick file in front of me.
Zach's bank statements showed a massive overseas transfer six months ago, followed immediately by a new car purchase.
His private social media albums contained photos with Nina at hotel pools, dated right during Nina's "conception window."
Most damning of all, my assistant had found a livestream where Zach complained about "being some actress's backup plan—she gets knocked up and tries to pin it on someone else." He never named names, but the timeline was perfect.
                
            
        Mom looked at me with concern:
"Wren, you knew all along?"
"Yes, Mom." I opened the car door. "Way longer than you think."
As we drove away from the Shaw estate, I spotted a silhouette behind the second-floor curtains—Nina's mother, watching our car like a hawk.
Her expression was lost in the shadows, but something about that stare felt familiar.
I couldn't shake the feeling I'd seen that look before.
A week later at my prenatal appointment, I was lying on the ultrasound table while the doctor pointed to the little figure on the screen:
"Baby's developing beautifully, and the placenta has moved up nicely. Nothing to worry about."
Walking out of the office, I spotted Nina clinging to Dante's arm, her bump more pronounced than mine.
Standing next to her was a young guy in a baseball cap, adjusting her scarf with movements so intimate it made my skin crawl.
His profile looked familiar, and suddenly it clicked—I'd seen him in the entertainment section. Zach Hayes, some C-list actor who'd done a web series with Nina.
Dante obviously hadn't noticed me, whispering something to Nina with eyes so tender they could melt butter.
But when Zach looked up, our eyes met. His pupils contracted in panic, and he quickly ducked his head, pulling the cap down even lower.
A wild but crystal-clear thought formed in my mind.
I pressed a hand to my belly and slowly approached.
When Nina saw me, her smile flickered for a split second before she plastered on fake concern:
"Wren! You're here for a checkup too? What a coincidence."
Only then did Dante turn around, frowning slightly:
"Why are you here alone? Why didn't you have the driver bring you?"
"No need, Mr. Shaw." My gaze slid past him to land squarely on Zach. "And this is...a friend of Ms. Porter's? You look familiar."
Zach's fingers nervously twisted the edge of Nina's scarf, his Adam's apple bobbing as words failed him.
Nina quickly jumped in:
"Oh, this is Zach Hayes—we worked together before. Just ran into him visiting a friend here."
She deliberately tightened her grip on Dante's arm. "Babe, we should head to the glucose tolerance test."
As they brushed past me, I caught a whiff of Zach's cologne—the exact same scent from that Paris children's boutique in Nina's manager's Instagram post.
The one captioned "Baby's first gift haul" with Zach's name clearly visible in the likes.
I didn't call them out then and there. After they were gone, I texted my assistant:
"Run a full background check on Zach Hayes. Focus on his interactions with Nina Porter over the past six months—financial records, social media, everything."
Three days later, my assistant placed a thick file in front of me.
Zach's bank statements showed a massive overseas transfer six months ago, followed immediately by a new car purchase.
His private social media albums contained photos with Nina at hotel pools, dated right during Nina's "conception window."
Most damning of all, my assistant had found a livestream where Zach complained about "being some actress's backup plan—she gets knocked up and tries to pin it on someone else." He never named names, but the timeline was perfect.
End of WTF! My Fiancé's Mistress Turned My Prize Horse into My Little Pony Right Before Kentucky Derby?! Chapter 12. Continue reading Chapter 13 or return to WTF! My Fiancé's Mistress Turned My Prize Horse into My Little Pony Right Before Kentucky Derby?! book page.