My Husband Gave Me His Mistress’s Face and Sent Me to Prison for Her Chapter 06

My Husband Gave Me His Mistress’s Face and Sent Me to Prison for Her Chapter 06

Adrian’s POV 

When the federal agents took me away, my mind went blank. 

They said Elena had been sent to the hospital. 

They said Isabella had been hurting her. 

They said Elena had officially reported me for forging identities, altering medical records, fabricating evidence to 

frame her, and sending her to federal prison. 

I understood every single word. 

But when they were put together, I felt as if I could not 

understand them at all. 

I wanted to say it wasn’t what it sounded like. 

I wanted to say I had only been trying to protect the family, 

Isabella, and Noah. 

I wanted to say I had never truly wanted to destroy Elena. 

But when those words reached my mouth, even I found them 

disgusting. 

If I had not wanted to destroy her, then what were those five 

years? 

What were the wounds on her face? 

What was the torture she suffered in prison? 

What were her dead son and parents? 

My lawyer pulled every string he could to secure a one–day temporary release on bail. 

When I returned to the Moretti Estate, it was already dark. 

Isabella had also been brought back. 

She cried the whole way, saying she was scared, saying the federal agents were too rough, saying Elena was too cruel. 

I ignored her. 

I walked straight into the study and locked the door behind 

1. me. 

I reached into my pocket and touched the storage drive Elena had given me. 

She had told me to remember to listen. 

At the time, she had been lying on the operating table. 

Her eyes had been terrifyingly calm. 

I suddenly felt afraid. 

I was afraid those had been her last words. 

I was afraid she had stopped wanting to live a long time ago. 

I was afraid she had left me her final words, and I had failed to 

understand her again. 

I plugged the storage drive into the computer. 

Soon, an audio file appeared on the screen. 

The first thing I heard was the noise of a hospital hallway. 

Then Isabella’s voice came through. 

“Elena, I deliberately killed your child.” 

My hand froze. 

The progress bar on the screen kept moving. 

Isabella’s voice rang clearly through the study. 

“Why did you get to be Adrian’s wife?” 

“Why did your little family get to be happy while I could only stand aside and watch?” 

“It doesn’t matter if you hate me.” 

“Adrian believes everything as soon as he sees me cry.” 

“I told him the child ran into the road by himself, and he actually believed me.” 

“Then he sent you to prison for five years with his own hands.” 

“Elena, do you know how happy I was?” 

My blood turned cold, inch by inch. 

I saw my hand on the desk start shaking. 

Noah had not run into the road by himself. 

Isabella had done it on purpose. 

She had deliberately killed my son. 

And me? 

I believed her. 

I believed her when she cried and said she was scared. 

I believed her when she said she did not mean it. 

I believed her when she said the child had suddenly run out. 

I did not even investigate properly. 

All I thought about was how to bury the case. 

All I thought about was that Isabella was my benefactor’s sister. 

She was someone I had promised to protect. 

All I thought about was keeping the Moretti family away from federal attention. 

So I personally tied Elena to the operating table. 

I personally changed her face. 

I personally sent her to prison. 

I thought I was protecting my family. 

But the truth was, I had been protecting the murderer who 

killed my son. 

The audio kept playing. 

“And your parents.” 

“I personally mailed the judgment to them and told them their daughter wore my face and became a murderer for me.” 

“I heard their bodies stayed in the house for days before 

anyone found them.” 

“Too bad you were in prison. You couldn’t even collect their bodies.” 

My breathing stopped. 

Elena’s parents had not simply died of illness. 

At least, not only illness. 

Isabella had delivered the truth to them. 

The rumors and humiliation had crushed them. 

And what had I done for those five years? 

I let Isabella move into the Moretti Estate. 

I gave her the shares and dividends from the medical center. 

I bought her everything because I was afraid she would be 

bored. 

I kept her from going outside because I thought it was unsafe. 

I thought I was taking care of her. 

But to Elena, I had handed her life, her place, and her dignity to 

the murderer. 

After the sound of fabric rubbing, Isabella’s voice suddenly 

became sharp. 

“Ah! Elena, what right do you have to hit me?” 

The audio ended. 

The study fell into dead silence. 

I stared at the computer screen and could not move for a long 

time. 

So Isabella had not fooled me once. 

I had chosen to believe her over and over again. 

Every time Elena broke down, every time she begged me, 

every time she looked at me with those desperate eyes, I chose 

Isabella. 

When Noah died, I protected the murderer. 

When Elena went to prison, I shut the prison gate with my 

own hands. 

When her parents died, I stayed in the estate and lived peacefully with Isabella. 

How did I dare call myself a victim? 

I was an accomplice. 

The next second, I roared and swept everything on the desk to 

the floor. 

Glass shattered through the study. 

Isabella’s panicked voice sounded outside. 

“Adrian?” 

“What’s wrong?” 

I did not answer. 

I opened the study door and walked out. 

Isabella stood outside, her eyes still red. 

The moment she saw me, she rushed over and wrapped her 

arms around mine. 

“Adrian, Elena went too far.” 

“I only wanted to help her with the surgery. How could she call the police?” 

“Her face was already ugly. Even if I accidentally ruined it a little more, what difference would it make?” 

“And do the federal agents really know about her taking the 

blame?” 

“I’m so scared.” 

“You have to protect me.” 

She was still pretending. 

Even now, she was still pretending. 

I looked down at the hand around my arm. 

I had protected this hand countless times. 

When Elena rushed at her, I protected her. 

When others questioned her, I protected her. 

When she cried and said she was afraid, I protected her. 

But I had never protected Elena like that. 

The wife I should have protected most had been pushed away 

by my own hands, over and over again. 

Isabella finally noticed something was wrong. 

She slowly let go of me and forced a smile. 

“Adrian, why are you looking at me like that?” 

“Don’t scare me.” 

“What if you scare the baby?” 

Baby. 

She still dared to mention a child in front of me. 

I walked toward her step by step. 

She backed away without thinking. 

My voice sounded so cold it did not feel human. 

“Isabella Russo.” 

“How dare you kill my child?” 

Her face went white. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“I don’t understand.” 

I sneered. 

“How dare you lie to me and make me send Elena to prison 

with my own hands?” 

“How dare you mail the judgment to her parents?” 

“How dare you?” 

Her tears fell at once. 

“Adrian, did Elena say something to you?” 

“She hates me, so she’s framing me.” 

“You can’t believe her.” 

I did not waste another word on her. 

I ordered someone to turn on the speakers in the hall. 

Then I played that recording in front of everyone. 

Isabella’s own voice echoed through the Moretti Estate, 

sentence by sentence. 

She said she had deliberately killed Noah. 

She said she had lied to me. 

She said she had mailed the judgment to Elena’s parents. 

She said she had been happy. 

Everyone in the hall went silent. 

The color drained from Isabella’s face, bit by bit. 

She suddenly fell at my feet and grabbed my pants. 

“Adrian, I was wrong!” 

“I didn’t mean it!” 

“I just loved you too much.” 

“I just wanted to be with you forever.” 

“I’ll go kowtow to Elena, okay?” 

“Forgive me this once.” 

I looked down at her. 

There was no pity in my heart. 

Only hatred. 

But the heaviest part of that hatred was not for her. 

It was for myself.