His Five-Year Lie The Billionaire Wife's Revenge

The first time I caught my husband Tony Henson in bed with another woman, it was in our own home.

The woman was Faith Whitney, the so-called best friend he always swore was like a brother to him.

I lost it. Ran straight into the street. Tony shoved me out of the way and took the hit himself, a delivery truck slamming him into a severe concussion.

When he woke up, every memory was gone. Every single one, except me. He knelt at the side of his hospital bed, tears streaming down his face, begging me not to leave.

"If I can't be with you, I'd rather die."

I looked at the scars crisscrossing his scalp, the ones he'd gotten saving me, and my heart caved. Faith, meanwhile, conveniently left the country.

For five years after that, Tony treated me like a princess. I gave him everything in return. I was even carrying his child.

Then came his thirtieth birthday party.

He'd had too much to drink. His eyes were bloodshot, his face twisted with something that looked like resentment.

"My own son is five years old, and I've never once heard him call me Dad!"

I assumed the alcohol was talking. He'd forgotten our baby hadn't even been born yet.

A few relatives nearby frantically signaled for him to shut up. He ignored them, the liquor loosening his tongue further.

"You all really think I lost my memory? That I forgot Faith has a five-year-old son?"

Silence.

Then Tony hurled his champagne flute at the floor. Glass exploded across the marble.

At that exact moment, the doors to the private dining room swung open from the outside.

Faith Whitney walked in, leading a little boy dressed in a custom-tailored suit.

Around her neck hung the sapphire necklace Tony had bid three million dollars for at an auction last month. He'd told me he lost it on the way home.

Patsy Henson shot up from the head table and rushed over. She scooped the five-year-old into her arms without a second's hesitation.

"Oh, my precious grandson! Let Grandma get a good look at you."

The boy wrapped his arms around her neck like he'd done it a hundred times before.

"Grandma, I missed you and Daddy so much."

Patsy fished a thick envelope of cash from her pocket and tucked it into the boy's suit jacket.

"Grandma missed you too, sweetheart. You're staying home from now on. No more going anywhere."

I stood frozen, watching the scene unfold.

Not a single relative in the room looked surprised.

Tony's aunt even stepped forward and stroked the boy's hair.

"He's the spitting image of the Hensons. Those eyes, that brow line, he looks exactly like Tony did as a kid."

His uncle chimed in right behind her.

"Blood doesn't lie. It was only a matter of time before he came home where he belongs."

I turned to look at Tony.

He was leaning back in his chair, tie loosened, watching Faith and her son with a lazy smile on his lips.

"Tony, what is this?"

He dropped the smile. Stood up. Walked over to Faith and wrapped his arm around her waist.

"Exactly what it looks like."

"Five years of faking amnesia. I'm done."

He jabbed a finger toward my face, his voice bouncing off every wall in the banquet hall.

"You managed me like I was an idiot. No bars. No friends. You interrogated me over every single drink at a business dinner."

"You think that's love? You're a control freak!"

I stared at his hand resting on Faith's waist.

"Five years. You've been lying to me for five years."

Tony let out a cold scoff, pulled a document from the inside pocket of his suit jacket, and slapped it on the table.

"So what if I have?"

"I already had my lawyer draft a share transfer agreement."

He swept his gaze across every relative in the room and raised his voice another notch.

"Since we're all here for my thirtieth birthday, let me make an announcement."

"I'm transferring half the assets under my name to Faith and my son."

"Consider it compensation for the five years they spent in exile because of me."

Patsy walked over and seized my wrist.

"You're pregnant yourself now, almost a mother. You need to be the bigger person."

"Faith was all alone raising that child overseas. It's only right that Tony sent her some money."

"Accept the boy, and he'll call you 'Mom' too. The Henson family will finally have a proper firstborn grandson."

I wrenched my hand free.

"Accept him? Your entire family has been spending my money to bankroll your son's mistress, and now you want me to just accept it?"

Tony's face was flushed deeper with alcohol, but his eyes held a sliver of ice.

I stepped back. A sharp, cramping pain tightened across my belly.

"These past five years, I've taken care of you in every way imaginable. I treated you like a princess." His voice was low, almost bored. "Isn't everything I've done proof enough that I love you?"

"Faith came back because a child needs his father. She's not asking for a title."

Faith leaned into Tony's chest, her eyes rimmed red.

"Tony, please don't blame her. This is all my fault. I never should have brought Rufus back."

Tony patted her shoulder, soothing her.

"This has nothing to do with you. This is what you and Rufus deserve."

I stared at the lot of them, my nails digging crescents into my palms.

"Tony, every asset under your name came from the company shares and dividends I gave you."

"You used my money to take care of her?"

He stepped forward, towering over me.

"That was what you owed me."

He tilted his head, exposing the scar that ran along his hairline. "See this? If I hadn't saved your life, you'd be dead."

The birthday party dissolved after that.

Tony drove Faith and Rufus straight back to our house.

He fished out his key, unlocked the front door, and waved at the movers waiting on the curb.

"Bring everything inside."

I stood in the foyer and watched the workers file past me carrying small suitcases.

Tony pointed toward the room at the end of the second-floor hallway.

"Clear that room out. It's Rufus's now."

That was the nursery I had spent three months putting together, my heart full of hope the entire time. I'd lined the walls with non-toxic wallpaper, ordered a custom crib, and filled the shelves with a matching set of prenatal learning toys.

I climbed the stairs and planted myself in the doorway.

"This is my baby's room. Nobody touches it."

Tony came up behind me, grabbed my arm, and yanked me aside.

"The thing in your belly hasn't even been born yet. What does it need a whole room for?"

"Rufus is five. He needs his own space."

He turned and barked at the workers.

"What are you standing around for? Throw all that junk out!"

They swarmed into the room.

The imported crib was dismantled into planks and hauled out.

The pure-cotton baby clothes I'd picked out myself were tossed in a heap on the hallway carpet.

Faith led the boy upstairs.

She surveyed the wreckage on the floor and pressed a hand over her mouth.

"Please don't be upset. Tony just feels bad that Rufus doesn't have a place to sleep. If it bothers you, Rufus and I can stay at a hotel."

Tony grabbed her hand immediately.

"This is your home. I'd like to see anyone try to make you leave."

The boy yanked free of Faith's grip and ran to the pile of discarded things. He stomped down on the folded baby clothes, grinding his shoe back and forth.

Then he crouched, reached into a cardboard box, and pulled out a small carved wooden horse.

Five years ago, Tony had carved it for me by hand, right after he was discharged from the hospital. He'd sat on the balcony with bandages still wrapped thick around his head, a carving knife turning in his fingers. Wood shavings had dusted his lap, his arms, his shoulders.

He'd placed the finished horse in my palm and told me that someday he'd carve an entire set of wooden toys for our children.

I'd kept that wooden carving in the glass cabinet in the nursery all this time.

The boy picked up the rocking horse and tossed it in his hands.

"So ugly!"

He hurled it at the floor with all his strength.

The rocking horse hit the hard marble and shattered instantly, splintering into pieces.

Still not satisfied, the boy walked over to the largest fragment and stomped on it.

Wood chips flew everywhere.

I rushed forward, grabbed the boy by the shoulders, and pulled him away.

"What are you doing?!"

The boy dropped to the floor on cue, threw his head back, and wailed at the top of his lungs.

"Daddy! She hit me!"

Tony strode over and shoved me hard in the shoulder.

I lost my footing and slammed into the hallway wall. A dull ache bloomed across my back.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Tony jabbed a finger in my face.

"It's a piece of junk! It broke, so what? You're really going to pick a fight with a child over that?"

I braced myself against the wall and steadied my feet, my eyes fixed on the shattered rocking horse on the floor.

"You carved that for me with your own hands five years ago."

Tony let out a cold laugh, his gaze dripping with contempt.

"Five years ago my brain was scrambled. I could've carved a piece of garbage and you would've treated it like a treasure."

He bent down, scooped the boy into his arms, and patted his back to soothe him.

Faith walked over, pulled a hundred-dollar bill from her purse, and held it out to me.

"Flora, kids don't know any better. Here, take this and go buy yourself a new one."

I didn't take the money. My eyes stayed locked on Tony.

"Do you really have to destroy everything that's mine?"

Tony looked down at me from his full height and pointed to the long scar running across his forehead.

"If you hadn't run into the street like a lunatic that day, would I have gotten these scars all over my head trying to save you?"

"It's been years. Are you really going to hold one mistake over me forever?"

"I owe Faith a real family. What exactly do you have to feel sorry for yourself about?"

The next morning, I was sitting in the dining room.

Tony slapped a document down on the table.

Across the top, in bold letters: Parental Recognition Agreement.

"Sign it."

He pulled out a chair and sat down, rapping his knuckles on the table.

"Rufus has an interview at Stratton Academy next week."

"The school requires both parents to be present, and the child has to be a legitimate dependent registered under a local household."

"You'll issue a statement acknowledging Rufus as your biological son and register him under your name."

I looked at the agreement, then pushed it off the table onto the floor.

"Not a chance."

Tony slammed his palm against the table.

"Don't push your luck!"

"Faith is willing to let her own son call you 'Mom' for the sake of keeping the peace. What more could you possibly want?"

I stood up and looked him dead in the eye.

"Tony, let's get a divorce."

He froze for a second, then let out a sharp, humorless laugh.

He bent down, picked up the agreement, and tore it in half.

"Divorce? In your dreams."

He pulled out his phone and dialed the CFO.

"Luke Lawrence, cancel every credit card under my wife's name. Every single one, primaries and supplementaries."

"Any funds moving through the company accounts require my signature. Not a cent goes to her without it."

He hung up and immediately dialed another number.

This time, he put it on speaker.

"Mr. Lin, regarding next quarter's partnership, our company has decided to terminate your supply contract."

An anxious voice crackled through the phone.

"Mr. Henson, you can't be serious. We've been partners for five years. Mrs. Henson has personally managed this account the entire time..."

Tony cut him off.

"I'm running the company now. I say it's terminated, it's terminated."

He hung up and tossed the phone onto the table, irritation rolling off him in waves.

That was when Faith came downstairs wearing my silk nightgown.

She walked over to Tony and nestled into his arms like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Babe, why are you so worked up this early in the morning?"

Tony wrapped his arm around her waist, but his eyes stayed locked on me.

Five years ago, when Tony had first taken over the company, he hadn't known a thing. I was the one who taught him how to read financial statements, how to negotiate with clients. I handed over every resource I had, even entrusted him with the company seal and the security keys.

Now he was using the power I gave him to cut off every escape route I had.

"You think threatening me with divorce is going to work?"

Tony stood and walked toward me.

"I've had actual control of the company for a long time now. You don't have a cent to your name."

"And that half-dead processing plant your family runs? One word from me, and it goes into liquidation tomorrow."

He reached out and gripped my chin, fingers tightening until my jaw ached.

"You're going to sign that agreement like a good girl."

My head was forced back. I stared up at the face I'd known for years.

"And if I don't?"

Tony shoved my face aside and pulled a tissue from his pocket, wiping his hand like he'd touched something filthy.

Then, right in front of me, he pulled Faith into his arms.

"You don't sign, and I'll destroy your family's reputation in this city. Every last shred of it."

By afternoon, the sky had gone dark.

Wind whipped the clouds into a fury, and rain came down in sheets.

I stuffed a few changes of clothes into my suitcase and zipped it shut.

I was dragging it toward the top of the second-floor staircase when Faith stepped into my path.

She'd changed into a white dress. A glass of red wine dangled from her fingers.

"Flora, it's pouring out there. Where could you possibly be going?"

I didn't answer. I moved around her and headed for the stairs.

Faith's hand shot out and grabbed the handle of my suitcase.

"Tony said you're not going anywhere until you sign that agreement."

I yanked the suitcase back. "Let go."

Faith released her grip and took a step backward, positioning herself right at the edge of the staircase.

She looked at me, and a strange little smile curled at the corner of her mouth.

"Flora, please don't kick us out."

The words had barely left her lips before she threw herself backward, tumbling down five steps.

The wine glass shattered against the floor. Red liquid splashed across the white fabric of her dress.

The front door swung open at that exact moment.

Tony folded his umbrella as he stepped inside, just in time to see Faith crumpled at the bottom of the stairs.

"Faith!"

He threw the umbrella aside and rushed to her, scooping her up.

Faith leaned into his chest and pointed at her elbow. A tiny patch of skin had been scraped raw.

"It hurts, babe. But Flora didn't mean it. I just lost my footing, that's all."

Tony's head snapped up. His eyes were bloodshot, fixed on me with pure fury.

He set Faith down, took the stairs two at a time, and seized a fistful of my hair.

A tearing pain ripped across my scalp.

He dragged me downstairs.

My stomach slammed into the banister, and a violent, wrenching cramp exploded through my abdomen.

"Tony... let go..."

I clutched my belly. Something warm slid down my inner thigh.

Tony didn't hear me. He dragged me through the living room and hurled me out the front door.

I hit the flooded courtyard hard.

Wind and rain hammered into me, soaking through to my skin in an instant.

I knelt in the water, arms wrapped around my stomach as the pain grew worse and worse. Blood seeped into the rain pooling on the ground, spreading in pale red ribbons around my knees.

"Tony... my stomach... it hurts so bad... take me to the hospital..."

I grabbed at the leg of his trousers, my voice shaking.

Tony kicked my hand away and stood over me, looking down like I was nothing.

He bent down and slapped me across the face. Hard.

A high-pitched ringing filled my ears, and the taste of blood flooded my mouth.

"You're nothing but a vicious, scheming bitch!"

"You pushed Faith down the stairs, and now you're faking sick for sympathy?"

He pointed toward the front gate.

"You can kneel out in the rain and think about what you've done to her!"

He turned, walked inside, and slammed the door shut behind him.

A few minutes later, the garage door opened.

Tony pulled out in the car with Faith and her son, tires tearing through the mud, spraying filthy water in their wake.

I lay facedown in the mud, my vision going dark at the edges.

...

Hours later.

Tony pushed open the front door in high spirits, a limited-edition Transformers toy in each hand.

Let's see if she's ready to behave.

He kicked off his shoes and headed for the living room.

The house was dead silent.

He looked down. On the entryway rug, a trail of blood had spread in a dark, ugly stain.

It stretched all the way to the front door.

On the shoe cabinet by the entrance sat a prenatal exam folder, soaked through by the storm.

The folder was unsealed. Its contents had slipped out.

A single ultrasound photo.

The toys slipped from Tony's hands and clattered to the floor.

His fingers trembled as he picked up the blood-smeared photo.

On the back, written in neat, delicate handwriting:

Honey, the doctor says it's the twin boys you've always wanted.

Tony's mind went blank. A cold wave of dread crawled up from his gut.

He stared at those words, eyes bloodshot.

He tore out of the house like a man possessed, didn't grab an umbrella, just threw himself into the car.

The car screamed through the downpour and skidded to a stop in front of the emergency wing at City Central Hospital.

Tony burst through the doors and slammed his hands on the nurses' station counter.

"My wife! Her name is Flora Fox! Where is she?!"