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

Chapter 31

On the way to City Hall to finalize the divorce, Jonathan suddenly broke the silence.

"You and Julian…"

"None of your business," I cut him off.

He gave a dry, bitter laugh and didn't say another word.

Then, the car radio cut to a breaking news alert:

"This morning, a woman was spotted on the roof of the Zander Corporation building, threatening to jump. Witnesses say she tearfully accused the Zander family of using her and then abandoning her."

Jonathan's face went pale.

"It's now being reported that her daughter is pregnant and claims the baby belongs to Jonathan Zander, heir to the Zander Corporation…"

I turned to him. He was staring at his phone, his jaw clenched. On the screen were photos his secretary had sent—Nora, standing at the edge of the rooftop, her face contorted in fury.

Outside, the sound of sirens echoed. The area was flooded with police, reporters, and gawkers.

The second Jonathan stepped out of the car, camera flashes erupted.

"Mr. Zander, any comment on Wendy Stevens' pregnancy?"

"Will the Zander family acknowledge the child?"

"Have you and your wife divorced, or is this a mistress crashing your marriage?"

Ignoring them all, Jonathan shoved through the crowd and yanked me toward the building.

His hand was clammy, but his grip on my wrist was iron-tight.

"Let go," I said coldly.

He blinked as if coming out of a trance and quickly let go, his voice hoarse.

"Sorry… I just…"

"A life's on the line. I get it," I said flatly. "No need for the noble act."

He ordered the driver to head for Zander HQ without hesitation. Meanwhile, I sat there stone-faced. This was supposed to be the end—our clean break. And yet again, I was getting dragged back into his mess.

In the elevator, his phone rang three times before he finally picked up. Even from across the space, I could hear Dean yelling through the speaker.

"Get this under control, now! She's live-streaming this! If she jumps, our stock crashes tomorrow morning!"

Up on the roof, the wind was sharp and biting. Nora stood on the edge, mascara streaked down her cheeks.

The moment she saw Jonathan, she started shrieking.

"Jonathan! You heartless bastard! My daughter's carrying your child, and you're running back to that woman?!"

Every camera turned on me in an instant.

Jonathan instinctively stepped in front of me.

"Nora, please… come down."

"I won't!" she screamed, flailing her arms. "You have to promise—right here, right now—that you'll marry my daughter! Or I'll jump! I'll let the whole world see how the Zanders treat women like trash!"

As the police edged closer, she inched nearer to the ledge. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.

Sweat soaked through the back of Jonathan's shirt. He turned and met my eyes—torn, desperate.

"Promise her," I said, my voice cool and sharp.

"Daphne…"

"I said promise her." My tone left no room for argument. "We were getting divorced anyway."

This circus wasn't my doing, and I had no intention of being branded the villain in it. I wasn't going to be the woman who drove someone's mother to suicide.

Jonathan swallowed hard. Then he turned to Nora and forced the words out.

"Alright. I promise. Just… come down, okay?"

Nora beamed, triumphant. The police helped her step back from the edge.

The moment her feet hit solid ground, reporters surged forward, bombarding Jonathan with questions.

I didn't stick around.

I turned and walked straight to the elevator.

"Daphne! Wait!" I heard him call after me.

But the doors slid shut before he could reach me.

Elsewhere, Wendy was curled up in bed, pale and exhausted from morning sickness. Her phone buzzed—a live-stream link from her best friend.

She tapped it open.

"Mom?" she whispered, sitting bolt upright.

Her face drained of color as she watched her mother's meltdown play out on screen.