His Mistress Was Pregnant With Twins, So My Husband Paid Me $50 Million to Divorce Him—But Seconds After I Signed and Flew to California...

Noah met me halfway down the marina boardwalk. He didn't ask questions. He just took one look at my pale face, took off his jacket, and wrapped it firmly around my shoulders.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently.

“My hands won't stop shaking,” I admitted, looking down at my trembling fingers.

“You don’t have to be strong every single minute, Claire,” he murmured, pulling me into a side hug as we walked back toward his car. It was the safest I had felt all day.

That night, a storm rolled off the Pacific, battering the windows of my apartment. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind replaying Evelyn’s confession on an endless loop. She had stolen my grief and manipulated my reality just to protect Grant’s ego.

At 1:15 AM, my cell phone lit up on the nightstand.

I expected it to be Grant. But the name flashing on the screen made my breath hitch.

Madison Lane.

I considered letting it ring. I owed this woman absolutely nothing. But the thought of her lying in a hospital bed, terrified and surrounded by the toxic Whitmore dynamic, made my finger swipe the green answer button.

“Hello?” I said.

Through the receiver, I could hear the rhythmic, high-pitched beeping of hospital fetal monitors. Then, the sound of a young woman desperately trying to muffle her sobs.

“Claire?” Madison whispered, her voice cracking. “I’m sorry to call so late. I just... I needed to ask you something.”

“What is it, Madison?”

A shaky breath rattled through the phone. “When you lost your baby... did it hurt?”

I sat upright in bed, pulling the duvet tightly around my chest. The silver moonlight spilled across the floor.

“Yes,” I answered honestly, stripping away any pretense. “It hurt terribly.”

“And the injections? The surgeries?”

“They broke me. All of it.”

A soft, mournful sob escaped her lips. “The specialist says the smaller twin—Samuel—might need to be delivered early. His lungs aren’t developing. Grant keeps pacing the room saying the Whitmores have the best doctors on payroll, but he looks terrified. And Evelyn... Evelyn keeps telling me I caused this because I walked around too much last week.”

My blood boiled. The cycle was repeating itself perfectly.

“Are you in the hospital bed right now?” I asked firmly.

“Yes.”