My Husband Gave Me His Mistress’s Face and Sent Me to Prison for Her Chapter 08

My Husband Gave Me His Mistress’s Face and Sent Me to Prison for Her Chapter 08

Elena’s POV 

When I received the news, the wounds on my face had just 

stopped bleeding. 

The female agent told me something had happened at the 

Moretti Estate. 

A servant had secretly called the police. 

Adrian had been taken away again. 

Isabella had also been sent to the hospital for emergency 

treatment. 

After I heard it, I stayed silent for a long time. 

I felt no satisfaction. 

I felt no sympathy either. 

I only felt tired. 

They had finally started tearing each other apart. 

And I no longer wanted to stand between them and watch 

them perform their late regret. 

The truth about what happened to me soon spread across the 

internet. 

The post I had scheduled in advance was published on social media exactly when I planned. 

It had surveillance screenshots. 

Surgery records. 

Recording transcripts. 

Everything I had suffered in prison for five years. 

It also had photos of Noah and my parents. 

I did not exaggerate a single word. 

Because the truth was already brutal enough on its own. 

Countless people began to pity me. 

Some brought flowers to Noah’s grave. 

Some went to my parents‘ graves and apologized, saying they 

should not have believed the rumors back then. 

But this late kindness still could not bring them back. 

The Moretti family’s rivals seized the chance and pushed the 

news everywhere. 

The private medical center under Adrian’s name was swallowed by scandal. 

Unauthorized surgeries. 

Identity fraud. 

Aiding a cover–up. 

Rumors of money laundering. 

One after another, everything was dug up. 

The medical center I had once supported with half my life soon ran out of money and shut down completely. 

When I heard the news, I was changing dressings in the hospital room. 

The nurse carefully watched my face, as if she was afraid I 

would be sad. 

I only said softly, “Good.” 

That place should never have continued to exist. 

It had once been Adrian’s and my life’s work. 

Later, it became the tool he used to hurt me. 

A place like that was only clean once it was destroyed. 

Isabella was rescued for three days and three nights before she 

finally survived. 

But she lost the chance to become a mother. 

The injuries on her face and body also left her breaking down 

every day. 

When I heard that, I did not think she was pitiful. 

When Noah died, she had never pitied my child. 

When I was pinned down and humiliated in prison, she had 

never pitied me. 

When my parents were crushed by rumors, she had never 

pitied them either. 

So now, I would not pity her. 

On the day of the sentencing, I went to court. 

Isabella sat in the defendant’s seat. 

She had lost a lot of weight. 

Her eyes were wild, and she kept muttering. 

“I did nothing wrong.” 

“I only loved Adrian.” 

“Elena stole my life.” 

I watched her quietly. 

Then the judge gave the sentence. 

Isabella was convicted of murder, aggravated assault, hit–and–run, evidence tampering, and other crimes. 

She was sentenced to twenty years in prison. 

After hearing the verdict, she broke down on the spot and screamed at Adrian. 

“You ruined me!” 

“Adrian, you said you’d protect me!” 

“If you hadn’t indulged me over and over again, how would I have ended up like this?” 

Adrian sat on the other side without saying a word. 

He had also been charged. 

Unauthorized surgery. 

Harboring a criminal. 

Obstruction of justice. 

Aggravated assault. 

In the end, he was sentenced to twelve years in prison. 

After the verdict, he suddenly broke free from the officers and rushed to kneel in front of me. 

The room instantly fell into chaos. 

The officers tried to pull him away. 

But he gripped the floor and looked up at me in misery. 

“Elena.” 

“I wronged you.” 

“I wronged Noah.” 

“I wronged your parents too.” 

“I destroyed our family with my own hands.” 

Tears covered his face. 

It was the first time I had seen Adrian so pathetic. 

Once, he had been the feared head of the Moretti family. 

He had always been calm. 

Always proper. 

Always above everyone else. 

But now, he knelt before me like a dog that had finally learned 

pain. 

“Please forgive me, okay?” 

“Elena, I really know I was wrong.” 

“I’m not asking you to come back to me now.” 

“But your face. Let me do one last thing for you.” 

“This time, no one will interrupt me.” 

“I’ll repair it myself.” 

“Let me make amends.” 

I looked at him. 

My heart did not move. 

If it had been me five years ago, maybe I would have cried. 

If it had been me on the day I got out of prison, maybe I would 

have hated him so much I attacked him. 

But now, I only found him ridiculous. 

Why did he always think compensation could erase everything? 

My face was not a broken tool. 

My life was not something he could destroy when he wanted and repair when he wanted. 

I looked down at him and said clearly, “Adrian, I don’t need 

your apology.” 

“And I don’t need your compensation.” 

“You’re not the only one who can fix my face.” 

“Other people can do it too.” 

The color drained from his face, bit by bit. 

I continued, “As for you, take your skill and your regret and spend the years you deserve in prison.” 

“I’ll never forgive what you did in this life.” 

“Noah won’t forgive you either.” 

Adrian shook all over. 

It was like those words crushed him completely. 

“Elena…” 

I did not look at him again. 

I turned and walked away. 

Behind me, his broken cries rang out. 

But I did not turn back. 

At that moment, I seemed to hear Noah whisper beside my ear. 

Mommy, keep walking. 

Don’t look back. 

Later, a reconstructive doctor contacted me. 

His name was Theodore Grant. 

He had nothing to do with the Moretti family. 

He was simply one of the best facial reconstruction experts in 

New York. 

When we first met, he did not look at me with pity. 

He only read my medical file carefully and said gently, “Ms. Carter, I can perform reconstructive surgery for you.” 

“I can’t promise to make everything exactly the same as before.” 

“But I’ll do my best to help you see your own face again.” 

I had already lost hope. 

I had even thought about spending the rest of my life with this 

ruined face. 

But then he said one more thing. 

“I think your son and your parents would also want to see you become yourself again.” 

I sat there. 

Tears suddenly fell. 

I lay on the operating table for the third time. 

The first two times, the operating table had given me only fear 

and pain. 

But this time, the operating room was quiet. 

Theodore and the medical staff kept encouraging me gently. 

“Ms. Carter, sleep for a while.” 

“When you wake up, everything will slowly get better.” 

I closed my eyes. 

This time, I was finally not being forced onto the operating 

table. 

This time, I was starting over for myself.