Helene Richard: The Truth Unveiled

Richa

my own hand against my cheek. My mind, in a desperate act of self-preservation, had blurred the edges, leaving only the raw, burning shame

as "an inconvenience," then bought me a ridiculously expensive necklace the next day, expecting it to erase his cruelty. I had worn it, a silent protest against the gilded cage he'd built a

ut he hadn't broken me in the way he intended. Instead, he had set me free. Fre

in. My heart, a withered thing, gave a faint flutter. He stood in the do

almost hesitant. He hadn't called me that

. Had he seen my public disgrace? Had it finally pierced thr

shatter the moment. I reached out a trembling hand, year

ck and hurled the toy car directly at my head. It struck me hard above the eyebr

d in a mask of pure malice. "Daphne said you're a liar! You hur

nd a cold, desolate void. He wasn't comforting me. He was delivering the final blow. My own son, a weapon in their arsen

ic shaming. It was a perfect storm, designed

ucted mask of concern. He saw Kellen, then me, then the toy car

holding him close. Then he turned to me, his eyes now filled with a performative sympathy. "Helene, darling, are you al

The hypocrisy was a bitter taste in my mou

pset. But we need to think about Kellen. And we need to talk about Daphne." H

ve. The final, undeniable claim on his life, on our life. My world tilted. I felt a

ou'll still be my wife. We can just... manage this. I'll make sure you're compensated. Financially. You'll never have to work again. You can live in l

is mistresses while I pretended to be the devoted wife? To living in a gilded ca

rrifying realization dawned on me. The missed period. The strange craving

y voice shaking with a new kind of resolve, one born of sheer des

se, branded as unstable, undergoing "grief counseling" sessions mandated by the Wise family. But in secret, I acted. I confirmed

ir terms: a significant financial settlement, but no public battle. My reputation was already gone. All I wanted was

tay out of sight, Helene. We'll handle the

g. The papers were sign

of incandescent rage. "You bitch!" he roared, slamming the door.

I did for you, for your family, you stab me in the back like this?" He grabbed my sh

struggling against his grip. "Your moth

roat, not hard enough to choke me, but enough to convey the threat, the raw, uncontrolle

e you regret this. I'll make sure you never know a moment of pe

rling? What's going on? Are you hurting her again?" She appeared in the doorway

aw Daphne' s feigned distress. He rushed to her side, wrapping an arm

ied, Garrett. She's so unstable. She's been threatening me... threatening our baby." She looked a

ouldn't dare," he growled. He turned to his security detail, who stood by passively. "G

owards me. I saw the glint of malice in their eyes. This was

ocably. I had to make sure he would never come near me again. Not with Kellen, not w

d, steady now, reached for the silver letter opener I had dropped earlier. It lay gl

inst my lower abdomen. "Garrett," I called out, my voice trembling but firm, "you said you would make me su

The letter opener clattered to the floor, leaving a dark, blossoming stain on my whi

ed, my voice barely audible, as my