I Raised My Husband's Love Child...Then He Shot Me

Chapter 3

I stood frozen, staring in horror at the only pet I'd been allowed to bring to the mansion. The same way I cared for Ivan, I'd taken care of Fei Fei.

"Don't mess with me—and don't make my dad mad at me!" Ivan snapped, his voice sharp and cold.

I watched him stomp off as I stared at the arrow embedded in Fei Fei's tiny body.

Fate had a cruel sense of humor. I was the one who'd taught Ivan how to shoot a bow. Everything he knew, he'd learned from me. And now, he used it against me.

Cradling the box in my arms, I looked down at Fei Fei—my best friend—and felt a tear slide down my cheek.

"Rachel? What are you doing out here? You'll catch a cold!" Michael's voice came from the doorway.

He quickly came over, draping his jacket around my shoulders. I shrugged it off.

"What's going on?" he asked, but the moment he saw the lifeless cat in the box, his expression twisted in discomfort.

"Your son came to apologize," I said flatly.

Michael frowned. "He's your son too."

I scoffed. "He hates me, Michael. He just killed my cat."

"Come on, let's go inside," he said, gently reaching for me. "I'll talk to him in the morning. It was probably just a stupid prank. You can bury the cat tomorrow."

I pulled away and walked toward the garden, carrying Fei Fei with me.

Michael sighed and muttered something about me being stubborn, but he followed me. And to his credit, he stayed while I buried Fei Fei under the moonlight.

By the time we went back inside, the party was over, the guests long gone. The wind howled outside as I stepped into the warm house.

I sneezed, and Michael caught me in his arms.

Back in my room, he sat down and pulled me onto his lap. I stiffened, uncomfortable.

"What do you want?" I snapped.

Michael exhaled, tired. "What's going on, Rachel? I'll get you a new cat."

"I want to leave, Michael. Tomorrow."

He tensed. "Ivan's just a kid. I don't trust anyone else to care for him the way you do. And where would you even go? You don't have anyone else."

I shrugged. "That's my problem. But I don't belong here anymore. You've refused to marry me—after eight years."

"I told you," Michael said, "I can't take another wife right now."

"I'm not asking you to. In fact, I don't even want that anymore. I just want out."

"Then have a child for me," he said. "That way, your future—and the child's—is secured. No one would dare say anything about you if you're the mother of my child. And Ivan could use a sibling."

I gave a tired, sad smile. I'd sacrificed everything. My pride, my dignity. Eight years, and this was still all I was to him—a mistress, expected to carry an illegitimate child to maintain some twisted sense of status and protection.

"I've already told the maid everything she needs to know about Ivan's schedule. He's homeschooled. Hire better tutors or enroll him in school. He doesn't need me anymore."

Michael kissed me on the forehead. "Just sleep on it. Tell me how you feel in the morning."

But I didn't sleep at all. I packed my things instead, haunted by the image of Fei Fei's lifeless body.

At sunrise, I showered, grabbed my suitcases, and stepped outside.

It was finally happening—I was leaving.

Of course, I wasn't going to leave quietly.

A slow clap echoed across the courtyard.

"Well, well, well," Susan drawled from behind a column, smirking. "Look who finally came to her senses."

I didn't bother responding.

Susan—Michael's mistress and Ivan's favorite—stepped in front of me, blocking my way.

"Eight years, Rachel," she said, arms folded. "Eight years playing house, waiting for a man who never wanted you. And now you're leaving? Took you long enough."

She laughed, cruel and triumphant. "Face it. Michael and Ivan never loved you. You were just a placeholder. A glorified babysitter."

I met her gaze, emotionless. "Good. You can have it all. None of this is my problem anymore."

Her smirk grew wider. "Oh, don't worry. I intend to."

But before I could step around her, the front doors swung open.

Michael stepped out with Ivan right behind him.

And just like that, Susan flipped the switch.

She gasped dramatically, dropped to her knees, and grabbed my dress like her life depended on it.

"Rachel, please!" she cried. "Don't go! Ivan needs you—you raised him! How can you just walk out on him?"

I looked down at her, unimpressed.

"Ivan loves you, he really does," she sobbed. "He's just a kid! I'm sorry for everything. Just… please, don't leave."

Michael rubbed his temples, clearly over it. "That's enough, Susan. Stop making a scene. Rachel, I'll get you another cat if that's what this is about. You're stressing her out."

I clenched my fists.

And then Ivan ran to Susan, wrapping his arms around her protectively.

"Get up, Susan," he said gently, wiping her fake tears with his small hands. He looked at me, his eyes full of hatred.

"You killed my mother with your evil heart," he said coldly. "Now you're trying to hurt Susan too."

He turned back to her. "Don't cry. Let Rachel go. I don't want her here. I don't need her."

Then he looked at me again, his voice like ice. "You're a terrible person. That's why my dad never loved you." A slow smirk spread across his face. "I'm glad you're leaving."

I swallowed hard, taking one last look at the boy I had loved like my own.

"After eight years, if that's what you truly believe… then I really have no reason to stay."

I turned and walked away.

But just as I reached the gate, I heard the unmistakable thwip of a crossbow string.

Ivan had pulled the trigger.

And the bolt flew straight at my head.