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“Second,” I continued, “if you want me to leave quietly, you must also accept the legal consequences of what you’ve done.”
“What consequences?” my father-in-law snapped. “Don’t turn this into a scandal.”
The mistress’s face turned pale.
Adrian panicked. “Maria, please—let’s handle this privately.”
“You’re exaggerating,” my sister-in-law said sharply. “He’s going to be a father. Be mature.”
Then I continued.
Adrian frowned. “What assumptions?”
“I went to the hospital yesterday,” I said calmly. “For a routine check.”
“And I found out… I’m pregnant too.”
Chaos erupted.
Now that I was carrying a child, I was suddenly valuable again.
“My pregnancy,” I said, “is not the biggest surprise.”
They froze.
“The baby,” I continued, “may not be Adrian’s.”
The room fell into complete shock.
“I won’t confirm paternity,” I added, “until after the divorce.”
Their faces crumbled.
Before leaving, I delivered the final blow.
“I’ve already consulted a lawyer,” I said. “This house is legally mine. And anyone who disrespects me can leave.”
I opened the door.
“You have five minutes.”
They left—every single one of them.
Adrian lingered, begging for answers, but I closed the door gently.
For the first time in months, the house was silent. Peaceful.
I touched my stomach and whispered, “We’re going to be okay.”
Later, I learned the truth: the mistress had never been pregnant at all. It was a lie. Adrian lost everything—his family, his dignity, his marriage.
And me?
I gained something far more valuable.
Freedom.
Sometimes, what feels like the end of your world… is actually the beginning of your strength.
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