The Island of Lies

My husband’s empire collapsed overnight. That same night, he rushed our son and me to a remote island, claiming we needed to hide from creditors.
But something felt wrong. I turned back halfway, only to find him throwing a lavish party at our home, a beautiful woman in his arms.
His friend smirked. "You sent them to that godforsaken rock? What will they eat?"
Nate replied casually, “When Stella’s dog food brand failed, I had the surplus shipped there. It’s enough for years.”
Stella snuggled closer. “You’re so good to me and our baby,” she whispered, touching her stomach.
He chuckled. “You’re too soft-hearted. I had to remove that she-devil before she found out you’re pregnant. Once the baby’s born, I’ll bring them back. It’ll be too late for her to protest.”
Lightning seemed to strike me; I broke into a cold sweat.
Three years later, he called as planned. "How are you and Alan? I’m coming to get you."
I glanced at the man sleeping beside me and smiled. “We’re wonderful. My new husband is so good to me—and your son.”

1
There was a pause on the other end, followed by a chuckle. He thought I was joking.
“Jenny, you haven't changed a bit. Still got that sharp tongue.”
“I know you’re upset I haven’t visited or called these past three years. But honey, circumstances wouldn’t allow it. I just settled the last of my debts, and you’re the first person I called. I’ll be there in two days to get you and Alan.”
I was about to cut him off when my phone died.
My new husband, Liam, stirred beside me. He rolled over, his arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me back into the warm cocoon of our bed. We’d been up late last night and were both exhausted.
When I woke again in the afternoon, Liam was already at his office. A bodyguard had driven our son, Alan, to his international school. Feeling rested, I headed to the grocery store, planning to cook a special dinner for my two boys.
I was inspecting a rack of lamb when a woman’s voice cut through the air.
“Jenny?”
I looked up. It was Stella.
She was flanked by two maids, one of whom was holding a two-year-old girl. No paternity test was needed; the child was the spitting image of Nate.
Stella’s eyes widened in genuine shock, clearly stunned to see me here. My own gaze, however, was fixed on the heirloom locket hanging around her neck—a locket that had been my mother’s. Three and a half years ago, Nate had told me he’d lost it. We filed a police report, and he’d stayed up for three straight nights, searching frantically. He had apologized with bloodshot eyes, and I had grieved for that precious memento for months.
He knew it was the only thing I had left of my mother. And he had lied, giving it to her.
Beyond the locket, she was dripping in designer labels and high-end jewelry. Nate had clearly taken very good care of her these past three years.
“Sister,” Stella cooed, her voice laced with a cloying sweetness that felt more like a provocation. “Welcome back.”
Three years ago, she would have bowed her head and addressed me as "Mrs. Peterson." Back then, she owned a small dog food processing plant, and my mother-in-law, a dog lover, was a frequent customer. Stella was always so polite, so deferential. There was no hint of the shameless homewrecker she would become.

2
My hand shot out, and I ripped the locket from her neck.
A raw, red line appeared on her pale skin. She gasped, clutching her throat. “Ouch!”
“This is mine,” I hissed, my voice low and dangerous. “Don’t you dare test me again. Next time, I won’t be so gentle.”
I didn’t want a scene. When a man cheats, the fault lies with him.
Stella’s expression soured, a mix of hurt and indignation. “I call you 'sister' out of respect for Nate,” she said, her voice rising. “He gave me that locket, and you’d better give it back. And another thing—Nate and I are together now. This is our daughter. I’ve always believed women shouldn’t make things hard for other women, which is why I’m always telling Nate to be kinder to you.”
I scoffed. The audacity to spin such a web of self-serving lies, to act so righteous after committing such a despicable act.
She pulled her daughter into her arms and pushed the child toward me. “Sweetie,” she instructed, “say hello to your auntie.”
Her posture screamed magnanimity, as if my refusal to play along was a sign of my own petty nature.
The little girl, innocent and cute, chirped, “Hi, auntie.”
A surge of anger rose in me, but I would never take it out on a child. I turned to leave, ignoring Stella completely.
Suddenly, her hand clamped down on my arm. The moment I flinched to pull away, she crumpled to the floor, clutching her child as if I had shoved her. She let out a pained cry, and the little girl began to wail.
A crowd instantly gathered, their judgmental eyes on me.
“How could you push a woman holding a baby?”
“What a monster. Taking your anger out on a child…”
My face was a cold mask. I pointed at Stella on the floor. “She’s a homewrecker who destroyed my family. I didn’t touch her—she threw herself on the ground. It’s just another one of her pathetic tricks.”
With that, I walked away.
Less than thirty minutes later, my phone was blowing up with calls from Nate.
Stella had wasted no time.
I didn’t answer. The texts started flooding in.
“When did you get back? Why didn’t you wait for me to pick you up?”
“Jenny, you went too far. What happened between Stella and me is my fault. If you’re going to be angry, be angry at me.”
“Where are you? I’ll come get you. We can sit down as a family and talk this through.”
“Honey, I need you to know that no matter how many children I have with Stella, you will always be the most important person in my life. My love for you will never change.”
I felt sick.
The truth was, the moment I returned, I had already contacted my lawyer. I was ready to fight.
Just then, another notification popped up on my phone. A loan alert.
Loan disbursement: Five million dollars.
Over the past three years, Nate, in collusion with a corrupt bank employee, had taken out a total of one hundred million dollars in loans using my identity without my knowledge. My lawyer had already traced the funds. Every last cent had ended up in Stella’s account.
He had spared no expense for her: luxury cars, mansions, and extravagant bids at auctions where he bought her whatever she desired, just to see her smile.
I remembered a time, early on, when I had tested him. I’d called him, sobbing.
“Nate, Alan has a raging fever. He’s so sick, and there’s no medicine on this island. Can you please send some money so I can get him to a hospital?”
He had soothed me with empty words. “Boys are tough, Jenny. Their immune systems are strong. Just give him a cool bath. Honey, to be honest with you… I can’t even afford instant noodles right now. I don’t have a single penny to my name. Let’s just be strong, okay? The hard times will pass.”

3
The next day, I was struck with a sudden, agonizing pain. Appendicitis. I was writhing on the floor, soaked in so much sweat it was as if I’d been dunked in water. I didn’t even have the strength to make a call.
My son, Alan, terrified, video-called Nate, begging him to come and take me to a hospital.
Nate’s face showed a flicker of concern, but it was fleeting. “Just rub your mom’s tummy, son,” he’d said. “She’ll be fine in a bit. It’s probably just a stomach ache, nothing serious.”
He hung up quickly.
As the pain intensified, I passed out. Alan, in a panic, called him again.
This time, Nate snapped. “Tell your mother to stop faking it!”
After that, his phone was turned off.
An appendix might not be a major organ, but the pain can be lethal. That was the moment I truly understood: a man whose heart has turned is more terrifying than any ghost.
I screenshotted the loan notification and sent it to my lawyer.

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