After Sharing Half My Husband with His Mistress Chapter 05

After Sharing Half My Husband with His Mistress Chapter 05

“He is at the main gates again, Ms. Kensington.”

Marcus, my father’s head of security, stood in the doorway of the sunroom.

“How long has he been out there?” I asked, not looking up from my tea.

“Two hours. He is screaming at the intercom.”

“Keep the gates locked.”

“He is threatening to ram his car through the iron, ma’am.”

I finally set my porcelain cup down. “Let him try. The Monroe family will love paying for the damages.”

Marcus nodded and tapped his earpiece, relaying the order.

Bruce was unraveling. Since I vanished from the hospital, my phone remained completely silent, but the estate’s main line rang constantly. Bruce couldn’t handle losing his perfect, compliant wife.

My cousin Elena marched into the sunroom. She tossed a sleek silver tablet onto the table.

“Read it,” Elena ordered.

“I told you I don’t care about the gossip columns.”

“You will care about this one. Your husband’s mistress just gave an exclusive interview.

I picked up the tablet. A massive photo filled the screen. Judy Evans stood on the balcony of Bruce’s high-rise corporate apartment. She wore a designer maternity dress, resting a hand on her barely visible stomach.

The headline blared in bold font: *Future Mrs. Monroe Speaks Out: The Truth Behind the Kensington Departure.*

“She moved into the penthouse?” I asked.

“Yesterday,” Elena scoffed. “She is playing the pregnant saint. She told the press you demanded a divorce because you were violently jealous. She claims you couldn’t tolerate her innocent baby.”

“Violently jealous.”

“She also leaked that you left completely empty-handed. She painted you as a bitter, barren ex-wife.”

I didn’t throw the tablet. I didn’t scream. Instead, a short, sharp laugh escaped my throat.

Elena blinked, completely taken aback. “You are laughing?”

“It’s brilliant,” I said, sliding the screen back to her. “Bruce is hiding in his mother’s shadow, and Judy is claiming his throne. She is much smarter than him.”

“She is destroying your reputation!”

“Let her. The higher she climbs, the harder she will fall.”

A sharp knock interrupted us.

“Ms. Kensington,” Marcus said from the doorway. “You have a visitor. He bypassed the front gate entirely.”

“Who?”

“Evan Montgomery.”

My fingers tightened on the edge of the table. “Where is he?”

“In the main study. Your father allowed him inside.”

I found Evan standing by the mahogany bookshelves. He didn’t wear a suit today. A black turtleneck and dark trousers made him look sharper, more dangerous than he had at the banquet.

“You break into secure estates now?” I asked, stepping into the room.

He turned around. A thick manila folder rested in his right hand.

“Your father respects me enough to open the door,” Evan replied.

“What do you want, Evan?”

“I heard the rumors.”

“The society blogs move fast.”

“My assistant moves faster.” He walked toward me and dropped the folder onto the center desk. It landed with a heavy thud.

“I don’t need your pity,” I said, crossing my arms.

“This isn’t pity. It is ammunition.”

I stared at the unmarked cover. “What is in there?”

Evan didn’t answer immediately. He closed the distance between us. His shadow fell over me, completely blocking the sunlight from the window.

“Three years ago, when you left without a single word, I had you investigated,” Evan stated flatly.

My jaw locked. “You spied on me.”

“I needed a reason. You walked out of my apartment, blocked my number, and married a Monroe two months later. I demanded the truth.”

“And what did you find?”

“I found out about your father’s ultimatums. I found out about the corporate pressure. I knew you married Bruce to save the Kensington assets.”

My chest tightened. The secret I buried for three years was entirely exposed.

“If you knew,” I whispered, “why didn’t you stop the wedding?”

“Because I thought you were living well,” Evan said, his voice dropping an octave. “I thought you made peace with your choice. I stayed away to let you be happy.”

He reached out. His knuckles brushed against the edge of the folder.

“But you aren’t happy,” Evan continued. “Bruce is making a fool of himself, and he is dragging you down with him.”

“I am handling my divorce.”

“You are playing defense. I want you to play offense.”

I looked down at the file. “Who did you investigate?”

“Judy Evans.”

I snapped my eyes back to his. “Why?”

“Because I don’t believe in innocent victims. I told my team to dig into her background. I wanted to know exactly how many men she sponsored over the past three years.”

“Bruce funded her education.”

“Bruce was a mark,” Evan corrected sharply. “He wasn’t the only one.”

He flipped the cover open. Glossy photographs and bank statements spilled across the wood.

“Look at them,” Evan commanded.

I picked up the first photograph. Judy sat in a luxury restaurant, holding hands with a silver-haired man.

“That is CEO Miller,” I noted.

“Target number one,” Evan confirmed. “Keep looking.”

The next photo showed Judy boarding a private jet with a young tech billionaire. The third document was a wire transfer receipt from a real estate mogul.

“She isn’t a charity case,” Evan said. “She is a professional grifter.”

She targets wealthy men who want to play the hero. She spins a sob story, extracts the cash, and moves on.”

“Bruce thinks he is protecting a helpless student.”

“Bruce is completely oblivious,” Evan said. “He is sitting in his office right now, fighting his board of directors to secure a trust fund for a baby that probably belongs to a tech executive.”

I dropped the photos. My mind raced, piecing the timeline together.

“The baby,” I muttered.

“Exactly,” Evan said. He tapped a specific medical document near the bottom of the pile. “She is two months pregnant. Look at the flight logs.”

I read the dates. Judy had traveled to Aspen with the tech billionaire six weeks ago. She spent a weekend in Miami with CEO Miller right before that.

“The timeline overlaps,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“The paternity is highly questionable,” Evan stated. “She pinned the pregnancy on Bruce because the Monroe family has the deepest pockets.”

I stared blindly at the papers. Three years of marriage destroyed for a child that might not even belong to my husband. Bruce threw away everything for a calculated lie.

Evan leaned forward. He planted both hands on the desk, bringing his face level with mine.

“Now,” Evan asked, his tone laced with absolute ice, “do you want to see just how ridiculous the man who broke your heart for three years really is?”

I met his gaze. The anger I felt at the hospital vanished, replaced by a cold, sharp clarity.

“What do we do?” I asked.

Evan’s lips curved into a dangerous smirk.

“We let him marry her.”