I Used a Dog to Ruin My Husband

Because of a pet custody battle, my lawyer husband, Ethan Vance, was suing me for the eighth time.

During the trial, Ethan finally compromised and sent me a Snapchat message:

[Name your price. Just give Peaches to Chloe.]

He used to be a man of absolute integrity.

To avoid a conflict of interest, he had watched my dad get framed and sent to prison without lifting a finger.

But now, to help Chloe steal a dog we raised together, he had forged twenty-six pieces of evidence.

He forged Peaches' birth certificate and purchase records.

I had refused to back down, fighting him through seven bitter court battles.

But to everyone's shock, this time, I remained silent.

"Your Honor, I yield. I won't fight anymore."

Then, I sent Ethan a message:

[My only condition is that you appeal and reopen my dad's embezzlement case.]

Across the courtroom, Ethan let out a sigh of relief.

But what he didn't know was that hidden inside the custody transfer papers he just signed was a set of divorce papers.

"Give me the password to the pet's Instagram account. I'm deleting it," Ethan ordered, catching up to me outside the courtroom.

He always thought I ran that account just for clout and views.

But he failed to see that my camera was always pointed at him. It was a record of our happiest moments.

I handed him my phone and watched him tap "Delete" without a second thought.

An account with nearly a million followers vanished in an instant.

"If we kept it, your crazy fans would definitely harass Chloe. It's better to avoid the drama."

Ethan waved the forged evidence in my face before tossing it into the trash can.

A smug, victorious smirk played on his lips.

He looked like a man who had just won a war.

Except I was the casualty.

Chloe cuddled into Ethan's arms, holding Peaches' leash. She looked cute, innocent, and utterly pitiful.

"Ethan, I promise this is the last time I'll be selfish."

Then she blinked her big, watery eyes, looking at me with a pleading expression.

"I just love Peaches so much. Stella, you won't blame me, right? Please forgive me."

She tilted her head, her triumph barely concealed. There wasn't a shred of genuine remorse in her eyes.

Peaches was a Samoyed that Ethan and I had raised since she was a puppy.

She had witnessed our entire journeyfrom our first date to our wedding, spanning eight long years.

Ethan once told me, "Stella, we're going to raise her forever. You're her mom, and I'm her dad."

I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms.

Yet Ethan just gently ruffled Chloe's hair, his voice dripping with tenderness.

"You get whatever you want, Chloe. It's just a dog."

The sudden deletion of our million-follower account sent shockwaves through our online community.

[Peaches has been Stella's dog since day one! How could she belong to someone else?]

[Is this some cheap publicity stunt?]

[This girl literally stole the dog, and her lawyer husband is helping her do it?]

As the backlash grew, Chloe looked visibly humiliated. Ethan immediately went online to defend her.

He posted on Instagram:

[My wife lost her mother at a young age, and her father is currently in prison. It's natural for her to seek attention, which is why she's been hoarding my adoptive sister's dog.]

My painful past, the shame of my family, was dragged into the spotlight for millions of strangers to see.

My phone blew up with a torrent of hateful messages.

Ethan wrapped his arm around Chloe as they walked ahead, laughing and chatting.

"Peaches is so white and fluffy, just like you."

"Are you calling me a dog? You're the Golden Retriever here!"

Their voices faded into the distance. Ethan didn't notice me pulling out my phone to text the hospital.

"Hi, I'd like to book an appointment for an abortion."

The next day, Ethan and I were supposed to meet to discuss my dad's appeal.

I waited outside his office for three agonizing hours.

Finally, his secretary walked out with a conflicted expression.

"Mrs. Vance, Mr. Vance is tied up with something urgent and won't be back for a while. Maybe you should..."

Holding a stack of evidence half my height, all the strength drained from my body.

The papers slipped from my hands, scattering all over the floor.

The statute of limitations for my dad's case was expiring in just three days.

I got down on my knees, desperately scraping the papers together. Just then, my phone buzzed with a notification. It was Chloe's Instagram story.

The background was a veterinary clinic. Ethan was right beside her, helping her deworm Peaches.

[I told him I could handle this alone, but he insisted on skipping work to be with me. Is this what it feels like to be cherished?

Last year, when my appendix ruptured, Ethan refused to set foot in the hospital.

He had simply messaged me: "I hate the smell of disinfectants."

My fingers gripped the phone so hard they turned white.

I tried calling other lawyers, but they all politely turned me down.

"Mr. Vance made it clear that since you're his wife, helping you would be seen as a personal favor, which would compromise our professional ethics..."

I carried the heavy files I had spent sleepless nights preparing and walked all the way home through the freezing wind.

It was evening by the time Ethan finally returned.

I was sitting on the sofa.

"You promised to fulfill my condition. Help me appeal my dad's case."

Ethan took off his coat and pinched the bridge of his nose wearily.

"Even if he was framed, the prosecutor's evidence is airtight. Even if it's fabricated, it's flawless."

"Besides, I've been drowning in work lately. Can you at least give me some breathing room?"

The words caught in my throat like a shard of glass.

Just minutes ago, I had stumbled upon a new joint pet account he had created with Chloe.

The videos showed them riding bikes with Peaches by the lake, watching the sunset together.

The comment section was filled with adoration.

[Ethan looks so happy here! Unlike in those old videos where he looked so miserable. Now this is a real couple!]

[The previous account felt like a business partnership. So fake.]

[They look so good together! I'm glad he cut ties with that old influencer.]

...

He didn't look like a man "drowning in work."

I slammed the heavy stack of files onto the coffee table.

Swallowing the bitterness in my throat, I said, "You can focus on your work for the next two days."

"Just show up at the courthouse the day after tomorrow."

His rejection was instantaneous and cold.

"I can't make it the day after tomorrow. It's Chloe's birthday."

Before I could argue, he added, "Tomorrow doesn't work either. Chloe and I are shooting a video, and I need to write the script tonight."

Tears finally spilled over. "My dad can't wait! He has a severe heart condition!"

Ethan closed his eyes, exhaling a sigh of utter exasperation.

"Stella, I'm going to be blunt."

"Your dad's case is just a financial dispute. He'll be out in a few years anyway. There's no need to waste our time on this."

I stared at him in absolute disbelief. I couldn't believe those words had come out of his mouth.

Before I could speak, his phone rang.

He answered it, and his expression instantly twisted into panic.

"What? Your gastritis is acting up again?"

"Hold on, I'm on my way."

Ethan spun around to leave, but I grabbed the edge of his coat.

"Ethan, I need to tell you... I'm preg"

In the next second, he violently shook me off.

"We'll talk tomorrow! Chloe is in so much pain she can't even speak. It's an emergency!"

He slammed the door shut without looking back.

My stomach slammed hard against the sharp corner of the coffee table.

A searing pain shot through me, and a dark, warm wetness began to spread across my pants.

It was blood. Blinding, crimson blood.

"Ethan..."

My cry for help was cut short as the heavy front door slammed shut, echoing through the empty house.

When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed.

"Ms. Miller, thank goodness your housekeeper found you and got you here in time. We had to perform an emergency D&C. You need to rest."

The doctor looked at my chart, her brow deeply furrowed.

"Also," she lowered her voice gently, "your body was already quite weak, making it hard to conceive. After this trauma... it's highly unlikely you'll ever be able to get pregnant again."

I clutched the hospital sheets, my chest tight with agonizing pain.

The little life I hadn't even had the chance to welcome had turned into a nightmare before it even started.

The doctor hesitated. "Where is your husband? I need to speak with him."

I shook my head silently.

I had tried calling him three times earlier, but his phone was completely switched off.

That evening, I discharged myself and went home.

The moment I stepped through the door, Peaches broke free from her leash and lunged straight into me.

Chloe gasped, feigning shock as she covered her mouth.

"Oh my gosh, Stella, I am so sorry!"

"I was just training Peaches to guard the house. I didn't expect you to walk in."

I leaned heavily against the wall, gasping from the sudden wave of pain.

My unhealed surgical wound felt like it was tearing open, and a sharp, stabbing sensation ripped through my abdomen.

Ethan didn't even look at me. He just patted Chloe's head.

"It was the dog's fault, not yours. Don't worry about it."

White dog hair was flying everywhere in the living room.

Ethan used to be an extreme clean-freak. He used to force me to keep Peaches locked in a crate.

"If I find a single dog hair in this house, she's gone," he used to threaten.

Now, the house was a mess, and he didn't seem to care at all.

Ethan looked at me, frowning.

"You spilled ketchup all over the floor and didn't even bother to clean it up. Chloe almost slipped. Where have you been anyway?"

Looking down at the bloodstains on the floorthe blood he assumed was ketchupI clutched my stomach.

"None of your business."

His face stiffened, but he quickly cleared his throat.

"Chloe wanted to film some TikToks at home. I've been busy shooting and editing for her, so I couldn't check on you."

While my father's case was driving me to the brink of insanity, and while I was losing our child, he was at home editing TikToks for Chloe.

He used to tell me he hated video editing and didn't have the time to learn.

Yet now, he was staying up all night to edit every single frame of Chloe's videos.

I didn't argue. I didn't shout. I just slowly, painfully dragged myself to the bedroom to grab my father's legal files.

Ethan followed me inside.

"If it can wait, the court date can be pushed to next week. I'll have time then."

I didn't even look up. "It can't wait."

There were only two days left.

If the deadline passed, my dad would have to spend another three years in prison.

With his heart condition, three years was a death sentence.

Ethan's face hardened.

"Can you stop being so difficult for once?"

"Chloe is young and depends on me. I'm her brother; is it so wrong for me to take care of her?"

My voice cracked. "My father is an old man in a prison cell. He needs to be taken care of too!"

Ethan completely lost his patience.

"To be honest, since he's so old, staying in prison might actually be quieter for him. It saves us a lot of trouble."

I froze.

Before he could even realize the cruelty of his words, I grabbed my things and turned to leave.

Chloe stepped in front of me, raising three fingers playfully.

"Stella, I swear, next week I won't bother you guys even if the sky falls. Even if Ethan insists on staying with me, I'll turn him down."

I let out a bitter laugh. "No need."

"I refuse to believe that in this entire city, I can't find a single lawyer who isn't intimidated by you, Ethan."

I turned and walked away.

"Stella Miller!" Ethan yelled after me, but I didn't look back.

As I stepped into the elevator, my phone rang. It was Officer Carter, my contact at the prison.

"Stella... the man who framed your father just added another five years to his sentence through false testimonies. Your father... he just had a massive heart attack!"

By the time I reached the prison gates, my entire body was shaking so violently I could barely stand.

Officer Carter ran out to meet me, his face grim.

"He's stable for now, and the prison doctors are treating him. But the real issue is his mental state."

"If he has to serve another five years for a crime he didn't commit, I don't think his heart can take it..."

Instantly, the blood in my veins ran cold.

There was no time to find another lawyer. I had to swallow my pride and call Ethan.

"My dad was framed again. You know every detail of his case. Please, just represent him in court this once. I'm begging you..."

Ethan's voice on the other end was icy.

"The moment you run into trouble, you run back to me. Didn't you say you could find plenty of other lawyers?"

"And here I thought you were finally growing up and learning to be independent."

My fingers trembled as I gripped the phone, my voice cracking with desperation.

"Just this once... I'll owe you for the rest of my life..."

There was a long pause on the line before he finally spoke:

"I'm not being cruel, Stella. But what if your dad actually did embezzle that corporate money? I don't want us getting dragged into his mess."

The line went dead.

The sterile dial tone felt like the final nail in my coffin, crushing the very last shred of hope in my heart.

I collapsed onto the curb, dialing number after number.

I called every single law firm in the directory.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Miller."

"We aren't familiar with the case files. Reviewing everything would take at least a week, and with the court date tomorrow, we just can't do it."

Just as I was about to completely break down, a Snapchat message from Ethan popped up:

[Send me your location. I'll come find you.]

An instant rush of relief and joy washed over me.

I quickly sent him my location and politely declined the couple of lawyers who had slowly started calling me back.

I prayed silently, over and over, that the appeal would succeed.

But I waited. For three hours, Ethan never showed up.

I called him twice, but both times he hung up on me.

Then, a message popped up:

[Peaches accidentally bit Chloe. I'm at the clinic with her getting her a rabies shot. I can't make it.]

My brain went completely numb.

Right after, another text arrived:

[I'm sending you the contact info of a few good attorneys. You should reach out to them.]

After sending a few phone numbers, his side went completely silent.

The blood in my body turned to ice.

At that moment, Officer Carter called from the prison.

"Ms. Miller... your father suffered another sudden cardiac arrest. The doctors did everything they could, but... he didn't make it."

"I am so incredibly sorry for your loss."

My father's pale, lifeless face was covered by a white sheet. He lay there, cold and still.

The air left my lungs, and my knees hit the floor.

A guttural scream tore from my throat as the tears finally came.

My only family left in this world was gone.

Once my tears ran dry, I pulled out the divorce papers Ethan had unknowingly signed, penned my signature at the bottom, and blacklisted his number on everything.

It wasn't until Ethan returned to his law office days later that he finally remembered my father's case.

He called his assistant into the office.

"Retrieve my father-in-law's case files. Let me see if there's any ground for an appeal."

The assistant lowered his head, stammering nervously.

"Sir... Mr. Miller couldn't survive the stress of the new charges. He suffered a massive heart attack and passed away in the prison hospital."

Ethan froze, suddenly standing up.

"Also," the assistant handed him a medical document, "Mrs. Vance left this for you."