PART 3: MY HUSBAND FORCED HIS HIGH-RISK PREGNANT WIFE TO SERVE HIS GUESTS WHILE HIS MISTRESS MOCKED HER

PART 3 — THE THREE MESSAGES THAT COULD DESTROY HIS ENTIRE EMPIRE

I looked directly at her.

“My name doesn’t need to be on the front door.”

She smirked.

“Sounds like something people say after losing.”

Before I could answer, another sharp tightening spread across my abdomen.

I inhaled slowly.

Not now.

Please…

The pain eased after several seconds.

Logan noticed.

“You see?” he said dismissively. “You’re fine.”

“No.”

“I’m perfectly capable of recognizing fake contractions.”

I looked at him in stunned silence.

“You’ve never been pregnant.”

“I’ve listened to enough doctors.”

I realized then there was no point arguing with someone who believed confidence could replace knowledge.

He reached toward the nightstand.

My phone vibrated again.

Another message.

Another notification.

His eyes narrowed.

“Who keeps contacting you?”

“That’s none of your business.”

He picked up the phone before I could reach it.

The screen lit his face for a brief moment.

His thumb hovered above the notifications.

Then he frowned.

The display required facial recognition.

He

tossed the phone carelessly back onto the table.

“You’ve changed your password.”

“Yes.”

“Since when?”

“Since I realized privacy matters.”

He laughed.

“Privacy?”

He leaned closer until our faces were only inches apart.

“There are no secrets between husband and wife.”

Not anymore, I thought.

There used to be.

Years ago I told him everything.

My dreams.

My fears.

My insecurities.

The names we’d chosen for our future children.

The investments I believed were too risky.

The contracts that worried me.

Every confidence I ever shared eventually became another tool he used to manipulate me.

So I stopped sharing.

Not overnight.

One disappointment at a time.

Sabrina glanced toward the hallway.

“I think people are wondering where you are.”

Logan straightened his jacket.

“They can wait another minute.”

Then he looked back at me.

“This is your last chance.”

I didn’t answer.

“Natalie.”

Silence.

His patience finally disappeared.

In two

quick strides he reached the side of the bed, bent down, and seized both of my ankles with surprising force.

For a split second my mind refused to process what was happening.

Then he pulled.

The mattress slid beneath me as my body lurched violently toward the edge of the bed.

“Logan!”

I grabbed desperately at the sheets.

The fabric slipped through my fingers.

Another brutal yank.

My hips slammed against the wooden bedframe.

A burning pain shot through my lower back.

The babies shifted suddenly inside me.

Terror flooded every corner of my mind.

“Please!”

I wasn’t begging for myself anymore.

“I’m begging you for them.”

He didn’t even hesitate.

With one final pull, he dragged me completely off the mattress.

My shoulder struck the hardwood first.

Then my elbow.

Then the side of my head crashed against the polished floor with a crack so loud it echoed through

the bedroom.

Bright white light exploded across my vision.

For several seconds I couldn’t hear anything except a sharp ringing filling my ears.

Somewhere above me, Sabrina burst into laughter.

“Oh my God,” she said between giggles. “Did you see her face?”

Logan still hadn’t released my ankles.

Instead, he began dragging me backward across the bedroom floor.

Every movement sent another wave of agony through my body.

My nightgown twisted beneath me.

My head bounced once…

Then again…

Then a third time.

I instinctively curled both arms around my stomach, protecting the only two lives that still mattered to me.

Another contraction hit.

Harder.

Longer.

A cold wave of panic swept through me.

Not because of the pain.

Because I suddenly felt something warm running down one leg.

My heart stopped.

I couldn’t tell whether it was blood…

Or something even worse.

I forced myself not to panic.

Not yet.

Not until I knew.

Finally Logan released my ankles.

I lay on the floor struggling to breathe while the room spun around me.

He looked down at me with complete disgust.

“You’ve become completely useless.”

Sabrina stepped closer, looking almost disappointed that I wasn’t crying.

“I honestly expected more of a reaction.”

She crouched beside me, lowering her voice.

“You know what your real mistake was?”

I slowly turned my head toward her.

“You believed he still loved you.”

She smiled.

“I figured out the truth months ago.”

Then she stood, linked her arm through Logan’s, and together they started toward the bedroom door.

Just before leaving, Logan glanced back one last time.

“If you’re not downstairs in five minutes,” he said calmly, “don’t bother coming down at all.”

The bedroom door slammed shut behind them.

Silence filled the room.

Only the muffled music from downstairs remained.

For several long seconds, I stayed exactly where I was, one hand pressed against my stomach, concentrating on the tiny movements beneath my palm.

Then…

A small kick.

Another.

Both babies were still fighting.

A tear finally rolled down my cheek.

Not from fear.

Not from pain.

From relief.

Very slowly, ignoring the throbbing in my head, I turned toward the cracked phone lying beneath the edge of the bed.

The screen was still glowing.

Three unread messages waited.

One was from my obstetrician.

The second was from my attorney.

The third was from someone Logan Prescott had completely forgotten still existed…

The person who legally held the only authority capable of destroying everything he believed he owned.

For several long moments, I remained exactly where I had fallen, one hand pressed firmly against my stomach while the other reached slowly toward the cracked phone lying beneath the edge of the bed. Every movement sent pain shooting through my back, and the side of my head throbbed where it had slammed against the hardwood floor, but I ignored it. My only concern was the two tiny lives still moving beneath my ribs. I closed my eyes, breathing exactly the way Dr. Rebecca Collins had taught me during my prenatal appointments. Inhale slowly. Hold it. Exhale. Again. Another gentle kick answered my trembling hand, followed a second later by another from the opposite side of my stomach. Tears blurred my vision for the first time that night, not because of what Logan had done to me, but because my daughters were still alive. “Just stay with me,” I whispered. “Mommy isn’t finished yet.”

The phone vibrated once more.

Three unread notifications still waited on the screen.

The first was from Dr. Collins asking whether my contractions had become more frequent after hearing I wasn’t answering earlier messages.

The second came from my attorney, Daniel Mercer.

The third came from a sender whose name would have meant nothing to anyone glancing casually at my phone.

Elias Thornton.

Logan hadn’t spoken to Elias in almost four years.

In fact, Logan believed Elias hated me.

That misunderstanding was about to become the most expensive mistake of his entire life.

Very carefully, I unlocked the phone using facial recognition. The cracked display flickered before opening an encrypted application hidden behind what appeared to be an ordinary calendar icon. Logan had searched through my phone before. He had never found it because he had never imagined I would hide anything from him. The application required a second password, followed by a biometric confirmation. My hands trembled as I completed the security process.

A secure message from Daniel immediately appeared.

Everything is ready. We have been waiting only for your authorization. Once executed, the transfer cannot be reversed.

Beneath the message rested a single blue button.

AUTHORIZE.

I didn’t press it.

Not yet.

Instead, I opened the message from Elias.

Only one sentence appeared.

If tonight is the night, I’m in the conference room with everyone waiting.

A small smile appeared on my face despite the pain.

Logan always believed he had built Prescott Horizon Ventures alone. He enjoyed repeating the story during interviews, describing how he had started with nothing more than determination and brilliant instincts. It made a wonderful headline. It also wasn’t true.

Click the blue “PART 4” below to read the final part: 👉 PART 4 👈