When Your Cheating Husband's Dream Become Your Divorce Evidence novel Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The next day, the three of us went to the paternity testing center.

The blood draw was quick, but getting results would take three days.

Back home, Marcus immediately locked himself in his study, doing god knows what.

I took the opportunity to call my private attorney.

“Attorney Lawrence, there might be quite a show in three days. Be ready.”

“Understood, Ms. Hartwell. All the divorce papers are prepared.”

During those three days, Marcus was incredibly sweet to me, desperate to get my father’s help.

I deliberately brought up the company situation.

“Honey, Dad’s willing to help, but there’s one condition. He wants you focused on work, not distracted by other things-especially that receptionist situation.”

Marcus quickly promised, “Babe, I swear, there’s absolutely nothing between me and her!”

“I believe you.” I pretended to buy his story. “Once the test results come out tomorrow, everything will be clear.”

Day three, afternoon, at the testing center.

When I opened the report, I deliberately looked surprised.

“According to the test results, the baby is indeed Marcus’s.”

“I told you so!” Rain was so excited she nearly jumped. “Marcus, what do you have to say now?”

But then I changed my tone. “However, there’s a problem.”

“What problem?” Rain asked urgently.

I flipped to the second page of the report. “This shows the fetus has a severe genetic disorder with very low survival rates.”

“Impossible!” Rain snatched the report. “Every prenatal checkup said everything was normal!”

“Maybe the earlier tests weren’t thorough enough,” I said flatly. “These disorders usually can’t be detected until after four

months.”

The report was fake, of course.

I’d arranged everything in advance.

The real test results showed the baby wasn’t Marcus’s at all.

But I wanted both of them to crash and burn completely-that was the only way to achieve my goal.

“Doctor, can this condition be treated?” Rain asked through her tears.

“Very difficult.” The doctor I’d bribed played his part. “And treatment would be extremely expensive-at least several hundred thousand dollars.”

Several hundred thousand?

Marcus’s face got even uglier.

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