His Secret Wife Was My Best Friend Chapter 12

His Secret Wife Was My Best Friend Chapter 12 What The Camera Saw

Gareth walked in to find Daphne crying on the floor. His mother sat on the sofa, furious.

“What’s going on?”

Seeing how quickly he’d returned, his mother gave a cold laugh.

“I discovered this woman has been lying through her teeth, so I asked her here to explain herself. She immediately started screaming that I was trying to kill her. It’s absurd.”

Daphne stiffened and tugged weakly at Gareth’s jacket.

“I was just frightened. I was scared something would happen to the baby…”

At the mention of the child, Gareth sighed and helped her up.

“The floor’s cold. Come on, get up.”

His mother watched him, deeply disappointed that he still refused to see reason.

“Your Maybach went in for repairs a few days ago. I had someone retrieve the camera footage. I wanted to see how Cecily supposedly tried to kill Daphne. Instead, I found…”

She could hardly bring herself to say it.

Skipping over the recordings of Gareth and Daphne having sex, she went straight to the point.

“You still don’t know what happened that night, do you? Daphne drove your car across Cecily’s path. She put herself in danger. How was any of that Cecily’s fault?

“And at the exhibition, she knocked the diamond down herself and blamed Cecily. Does she ever tell the truth?”

Gareth took the tablet. He watched the recording in silence, his expression slowly

darkening.

The blood drained from Daphne’s face. She clutched his sleeve, almost pleading.

“It wasn’t like that. I was only trying to stop Cecily so we could talk. She was the one who didn’t brake in time.”

His mother scoffed. “And that rainy evening when you asked Gareth to come over? I saw it all on the recording. You came downstairs and looked around. You noticed Cecily’s car nearby, then made a point of kissing him in front of her. You were trying to break them up.”

She pointed at Daphne. “The apartment, the exhibition, the crash. She set you up over and over, and you walked right into it. Who knows what else she’s done behind your back?”

That left Daphne with nowhere to turn. She knew Gareth didn’t mind spending money on her or indulging her vanity. Being deceived was another matter.

She couldn’t find a word to say. When she finally met his freezing stare, she flinched.

“Gareth, let me explain…”

He fought to contain his anger, unable to tell whether rage or hatred was stronger.

He did like Daphne. With her, he could do whatever he wanted.

For more than 20 years, he had presented the world with an aloof, disciplined face, never daring to show his darker impulses or his need for control. Daphne obeyed like a doll, in bed and out of it. Cecily couldn’t give him that.

But no amount of affection would make a man raised to believe he was exceptional accept being played for a fool.

Outwardly composed, Gareth calmly deleted every recording. Only his voice revealed how cold he had become.

“We’re filing for divorce. And you have three days to end the pregnancy. Don’t

make me force the issue.”

Daphne shuddered and stared at him.

“This is your child, Gareth. Have you forgotten? I was drunk that night. You were the one who couldn’t stop yourself…”

He interrupted with contempt.

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself. Getting your best friend’s fiancé into bed must have felt like quite an achievement.”

She began trembling harder.

Gareth picked up his keys and headed for the door without another glance at her.

“We’re going to my attorney’s office. You’re signing the divorce papers today.”

Daphne stayed where she was, as though she hadn’t heard.

Losing patience, he caught her wrist and dragged her toward the exit.

She struggled, but she couldn’t overpower him.

On the front steps, her high heels slipped beneath her. She lost her balance and fell heavily.

Gareth stood watching without concern, as if she were an object he had tired of and could discard.

She reached for him helplessly, managing only to catch the edge of his pant leg. As she moaned, blood slowly soaked through the lower half of her dress.