He Made Me Care For His Love Child, Now He’s Homeless

On our second anniversary of getting back together, my husband brought home a three-year-old boy and expected me to raise him.

Vivienne nearly bled to death giving birth to him, Michael said, his eyes rimmed with red. I made a mistake, Evelyn, but the child is innocent. I swear I am done playing around. From now on, I will only fulfill my duty as his father.

The boy blinked up at me with large, pathetic eyes. Swallowing the bile in my throat, I agreed.

A year later, I went to pick him up from preschool on a whim.

"Mommy, when are you moving into our house?" the boy asked, pouting his lips.

"Daddy said once I count to five hundred days, you can come home," he continued. "I hate that miserable woman at home. She is always stealing Daddy away."

A fair, delicate hand gently stroked his cheek. "Hang in there, my sweet boy. Mommy will be back with you soon."

Vivienne, the woman Michael claimed had died from postpartum hemorrhaging, was standing right there. Her face was flushed with health as she coddled her son.

I clutched the massive asset distribution agreement I had just received from my mother-in-law, letting out a cold laugh.

Since Michael can't keep his pants zipped, the three of them can go straight to hell together.

I never expected a sudden change of plans would lead me to this truth.

I stood frozen, staring at the picture-perfect scene of mother and child, my hands clenched into tight fists.

For the past year, Michael had insisted on dropping off and picking up Toby every single day. Now I knew why. It was his daily excuse to rendezvous with his mistress.

My phone suddenly vibrated in my hand. I instinctively stepped back, hiding myself behind a thick oak tree before answering.

"Honey, where are you?" Michaels voice sounded slightly strained, a hint of urgency bleeding through the line. "The nanny said you drove out. Did you go to pick up Toby?"

"No," I replied, keeping my voice flat. "I had some errands to run."

"Oh, good." He let out a breath, a faint, relieved chuckle escaping him. "Don't stress yourself out over the kid. Its not worth ruining your health. I can handle the school runs."

He paused, then added, "Im taking him swimming tonight, so well be home late. Don't wait up for us."

After the line went dead, I stared at my lock screen, which showed a photo of the two of us.

"Vivienne passed away from hemorrhaging. I just couldn't bring myself to throw the boy into an orphanage."

That was what Michael had told me a year ago, on the night of our second wedding anniversary, right after we had remarried. He had ruined the dinner I spent hours preparing by bringing home his love child.

"Hes three now, Evelyn. Hes starting to ask where his mother is. I already made one terrible mistake, but I don't want to ruin the next generation." He had taken my hands in his, his grip desperate. "Lets raise Toby together. Didn't you always want a child? Ill make him call you Mom."

At that time, I had just received the report of my tenth failed IVF cycle, alongside the doctor's stern warning that my body was too weak to continue.

The three-year-old boy had looked up at me with watery, innocent eyes. "Auntie... I mean, Mommy Evelyn, Ill be really good."

I knew exactly what kind of ridicule I would face among the city's high-society elite if I accepted this child.

"Fine," I had said, forcing the word past my lips. "But remember this, Michael. I am not forgiving your affair. I am only doing this because he reminds me of myself back in the orphanage. Consider it my way of earning some good karma."

"Of course! Thank you, honey. Ill love you forever," Michael had cried, wrapping his arms around me.

Even Toby had reached out, timidly tugging at the edge of my coat. "Mommy, I like you."

But now, the four-year-old boy spoke with a sharp, articulate venom, his face twisted in disgust.

"That miserable woman at home is so annoying. She won't let me play with my toys and only gives me fifteen minutes of screen time! I have to call her Mommy. Its disgusting!"

For over a year, I had done my absolute best to raise him. I wouldn't call myself selfless, but I had been diligent.

A three-year-old boy is a whirlwind of chaos. Toby was afraid of the dark, terrified of thunder, prone to wetting the bed, and incredibly hyperactive. He had turned our house upside down.

I was the one who put my career on hold to teach him. I was the one who woke up multiple times a night to comfort him when he cried, neglecting my own recovery in the process.

My doctor had been utterly baffled during my last check-up. "Why is your physical health worse now than it was a year ago?"

At the preschool gates, Vivienne spoke in a sweet, soft murmur. "Don't talk about Auntie Evelyn like that, sweetie. She looked after you, after all. Even if she didn't do a perfect job, she still worked hard. When I become the next Mrs. Montgomery, we can always hire her as our live-in nanny."

I stared at the scheming mother and son, a dry, mocking laugh escaping my throat.

The papers in my hand crumpled under the pressure of my grip.

Thankfully, my mother-in-law had handed me the family asset division agreement this morning.

Since this happy little family wanted to play games, they could pack their bags and get out of my life together.

I didn't confront them immediately. Instead, I waited in the shadow of the trees near the preschool gates.

A few minutes later, a sleek black Rolls-Royce pulled up quietly at the curb.

"Hey, buddy! Did you miss Daddy?" Michael stepped out of the car, his face lighting up with a genuine warmth I hadn't seen in years.

"Yes! Mommy and I have been waiting for you forever!" Toby squealed, throwing himself into his father's arms.

Michael hoisted the boy up, then turned his gaze to Vivienne. He stepped closer and pulled her into a deep, familiar kiss.

"Im so sorry for making you wait all this time, sweetheart," Michael murmured against her lips. "I booked a table at that bistro downtown. Well grab dinner, and then Ill take Toby swimming."

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a suggestive whisper. "Tonight, my time is entirely yours."

Viviennes cheeks flushed pink, and she gave his shoulder a playful, affectionate shove.

Michael took her hand with one of his, holding his son with the other, and led them toward the luxury SUV. The very car I had emptied my personal savings to buy him as a wedding gift.

I watched them drive off, waited a moment, and then started my own car to follow.

As the evening streetlights flickered to life, blurring past my window, fragments of the past flashed before my eyes.

In the beginning, Michael had looked at me the exact same way.

He had been passionate, attentive, and completely consumed by his love for me. Even though I was just an orphan with absolutely no family background to back me up, he had held my hand with unshakeable resolve.

"I will only marry Evelyn in this lifetime. If I ever betray her, may I lose everything." He had sworn that oath in front of his family's ancestral altar, enduring ninety-nine lashes from his mother's heavy cane as punishment.

The very first thing he did after dragging his bloody body out of that room was take me to the courthouse to register our marriage.

"I don't want to wait another second," he had gasped, pale but smiling. "I want to marry you right now, have kids, and build our own little family."

I parked two spaces away from them at the restaurant. I watched Michael smile happily as he guided Vivienne and Toby inside.

"Yes, we have a reservation. Table for three."

I scoffed silently, entering the restaurant through a separate entrance and checking into a private room right next to theirs.

A spread of exquisite dishes was laid out before me, but I didn't have the slightest appetite.

"Happy anniversary!"

The muffled clinking of glasses and joyous laughter drifted through the thin wall.

Today was their anniversary.

No wonder Michael had slowly started forgetting my birthday after we remarried. A much more important date had taken over his heart.

"I wish I could bring you home right now," Michaels voice carried over, thick with emotion. "But the timing isn't right. For now, come to the company as my secretary. Once I get everything sorted out, Ill marry you in a grand ceremony."

I poured myself a glass of dry gin and swallowed it in one gulp.

Michael and I had dated for three years and been married for three.

Over those six years, I had poured my blood, sweat, and tears into helping him build the family business, turning it from a failing enterprise into one of the top ten firms in the country. I had literally worked myself to the bone.

Because of my efforts, he had transformed from a ridiculed, useless heir into a recognized business prodigy.

On the night of our company's annual gala, I had suffered a sudden, agonizing stomach spasm. I had asked a secretary to fetch Michael to take me to the hospital.

But no one returned. Both of their phones were switched off.

Fearing that something terrible had happened to him, I dragged my pain-racked body down to the parking garage on my own.

When I opened the door of his car, I froze. The two of them were completely naked, locked in a passionate embrace on the back seat.

Even after they realized I was standing there, they took their sweet time untangling themselves.

"Im so sorry, Evelyn... I was just so panicked, I forgot to tell you..." Vivienne had whimpered.

"Its my fault," Michael had snapped, shielding her. "Don't take it out on Vivienne. You're scaring her."

I had looked at Viviennes swollen lips, and then at Michael, whose eyes were still dark with desire.

"Fine. Let's make this simple," I had said. "Michael, we are divorcing."

The moment the words left my mouth, a metallic taste filled my throat, and I collapsed onto the cold concrete, unconscious.

Back in the present, Vivienne's sweet voice pulled me out of the memory. "Michael, is Evelyn still pretending to be sick to get your attention?"

"Shes still the same. Honestly, Im getting sick of playing along," Michael groaned, his voice dripping with annoyance.

"Her stomach is a mess, her joints are bad, and now after all those failed IVF cycles, her entire body is practically useless. Shes nothing like you, sweetheart. Youre so soft, and you gave me such a smart, beautiful boy with barely any effort."

"Ssh! The baby is right here, don't talk like that!" Vivienne giggled.

I let out a cold, silent laugh.

My stomach was ruined because I had spent years drinking with clients to secure contracts for Michael. My joints were damaged because I had personally run from warehouse to warehouse in the freezing winter to oversee our logistics.

And my fertility? My body was ravaged by hormone injections because he had a low sperm count, yet I was the one who endured the physical agony of ten IVF procedures.

And in the end, it was all dismissed as me being "useless."

"You've had a hard time, honey," Vivienne cooed. "If it weren't for getting me into the house, you wouldn't have gone through the trouble of remarrying her."

"Its fine, babe. Id do anything for you. Just stay at the company as my secretary for now. Once I get her to sign over the assets she took in the first divorce, Ill marry you."

"You don't have to wait, Michael."

I pushed open the door of their private dining room, tossing the divorce papers my assistant had just rushed over onto their table.

"Let's divorce. And this time, there won't be a second remarriage."

The room fell into a dead, suffocating silence. Three pairs of eyes stared at me in absolute shock.

"Mommy Evelyn... did you come to join my swimming class?" Toby squeaked, his voice instantly switching back to his innocent act.

"Evelyn, I... I can explain..." Vivienne stammered, turning pale.

"Evelyn, you've got it wrong. Today was just a coincidence" Michael started, scrambling to his feet.

I cut him off with a weary smile. "Drop the act. You guys aren't tired of it, but I am. Just sign it. I have nothing left to say to you."

Michael stared at me, his expression hardening. After a long three minutes, he finally spoke.

"Are you sure about this?" He tilted his head, a mocking glint in his eyes. "Evelyn, you worked for years to secure your place in high society. Are you really willing to throw all of this luxury away?"

"Absolutely."

Hearing my response, he picked up the pen and began flipping through the agreement.

Viviennes eyes darted from the papers to Michael, her anxiety turning into a breathless anticipation. Her hand trembled so hard she could barely hold her glass.

Then, with a slow, deliberate sneer, Michael ripped the entire document in half, tearing it into shreds before throwing the pieces into the air.

"Michael! Don't be reckless!" Vivienne gasped, her face falling.

"Its not that I don't want to sign," Michael said, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, taking a slow drag. "But the terms you wrote here are completely ridiculous. Evelyn, what makes you think Im going to let you walk away with half of my assets?"

I used to admire the sharp, calculating look in his eyes when we were negotiating business deals. Now, seeing that same look directed at me, I realized how incredibly ugly it was.

"What makes me think that?" I asked, my voice calm and steady. "How about the fact that I saved your family business from bankruptcy and built it into a multi-million-dollar empire? Or the fact that I drank myself to near-poisoning at five hundred client dinners, took a bullet for you, and dragged you out of two separate kidnapping attempts?"

I looked him dead in the eye. "Or maybe the fact that I actually believed your lies about wanting to make things right, remarried you, and raised your bastard child while the entire city laughed behind my back? Is that enough for you?"

He let out a sharp, angry bark of laughter. "Enough? Sure, its enough. But since youre so fond of playing the martyr, lets get one thing straight."

He leaned forward, his eyes cold and venomous. "I don't have a single penny to my name. Every asset I own has already been legally transferred to Vivienne. The company is registered entirely under my name, and you have no legal claim to it. Everything you did for me, you did voluntarily. So, if you want a divorce, youre leaving with absolutely nothing."

Voluntarily.

The passionate, devoted boy who would have given up his life for me had truly died, buried deep within my memories.

I let out a soft laugh. "Fine. Ill leave with nothing."

Michaels face instantly darkened.

To hide his sudden loss of composure, he snarled, "You were nothing but an orphan, Evelyn! I was the one who dragged you out of the gutter and gave you a taste of the high life. I gave you a platform, opportunities, and a status that other women would kill for! Without me, you are nothing. How do you have the face to demand anything from me?"

The more he spoke, the more righteous he sounded, as if I was the one who had been caught red-handed.

"You want a divorce? Fine! Ill have my secretary draft the papers tomorrow. You will leave this marriage with nothing but the clothes on your back."

"Now, if youll excuse us, Im trying to have a nice dinner with my fiance. Get out."

With a smug, provocative glare, he reached over and pulled Vivienne into his side, ostentatiously kissing her temple.

A wave of intense nausea washed over me. I turned around and walked out of the restaurant, my assistant rushing to keep up with me.

"Boss, he is out of his mind!" my assistant hissed, her face flushed with anger. "The company belongs to you! Hes just a spoiled heir who sat back and reaped the benefits of your hard work. How could you just agree to walk away with nothing?"

"No one can predict the future," I murmured, trying to offer a reassuring smile. "He wasn't always like this."

But the moment I opened my mouth, a violent fit of dry heaving seized me. Terrified by my sudden pale complexion, my assistant immediately steered me toward the nearest hospital.

The next morning, I was summoned to Michaels office.

"You're fired," Michael said, spinning around in his leather executive chair. He smirked up at me. "If youre no longer my wife, you don't get to share in my wealth. Your shares, your trust funds, and your bonuses are all being revoked. Your position and your entire team are being transferred."

He tapped a finger on the document resting on his desk. "The moment you sign this, it becomes legally binding. My secretary stayed up all night to draft this. Shes incredibly efficient."

Vivienne walked into the office carrying a tray. "Evelyn, heres your coffee," she said, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness.

Michael reached out, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her onto his lap, giving her hip a firm, intimate squeeze. "So, what do you think? Didn't she do a wonderful job with the agreement?"

I ignored his childish display, my eyes locked onto Vivienne.

"Vivienne," I said quietly. "Do you remember what you told me the day I helped you land your very first major account?"

She froze, her smile faltering, but she didn't speak.

"You said you would be grateful to me for the rest of your life," I continued, my voice steady. "You said that I didn't just fund your college education for seven years, I also put your abusive stepfather behind bars, and personally taught you how to close a million-dollar deal. You said that without me, you would have died in some dark corner, and that youd never forget what I did for you."

I took a step closer. "And now, you sleep with my husband and help him strip me of everything I own. Is this how you show your gratitude?"

Viviennes lips trembled, her eyes instantly welling with tears.

"Thats enough! Do you ever do anything besides guilt-tripping people?" Michael snapped, pulling her protectively into his chest. "I was the one who went after Vivienne. Shes too innocent to know how to say no to me. Theres no need to threaten her. From now on, I am the one protecting her. No one is going to hurt her again."

The very same promises he had whispered into my ear a thousand times were now being used to comfort another woman.

I spared Michael a cold, passing glance, then read through the termination agreement line by line.

"I knew you wouldn't want to sign it," Michael chuckled, confident. "Evelyn, you can't survive without me. If you just behave yourself and stop meddling in my personal life, we can stay married. You can keep your title as my wife."

Without a word, I picked up the pen from his desk and signed my name with a swift, fluid stroke.

As I walked out of the office, the sound of a heavy ceramic vase shattering against the wall echoed behind me.

"Honey, are you still mad?"

Vivienne slid onto his lap, her soft body pressing against his, the sweet scent of her perfume filling his senses.

Three days had passed, and there had been absolutely no word from Evelyn.

Michael knew he should be thrilled. He had finally gotten rid of her. Yet, an irritating, persistent anxiety clawed at his chest.

In a desperate bid to drown out the noise in his head, he roughly tore at Viviennes blouse, losing himself in her touch.

Just as they reached the height of their passion, the office door was violently flung open.

"Mr. Montgomery! We have a massive problem!" his assistant gasped, pale and sweating. "The IRS is here! Theyre raiding the offices!"

The color drained from Michaels face, his passion evaporating instantly.

"Our operations are entirely legal. We have never engaged in any illicit financial practices," Michael stammered, scrambling to adjust his rumpled suit. In his haste, he missed a button, and his shirt remained disheveled. "Vivienne, go pour some tea."

The lead investigator stepped into the room, his face carved of granite. "Mr. Montgomery, please cooperate with our investigation. You will receive a detailed explanation once we arrive at the bureau."

Michael frowned, trying to regain his footing. "We were audited at the beginning of the year and cleared. Coming in here like this without warningwhat is the meaning of this?"

"We received a formal report detailing corporate embezzlement, tax evasion, and malicious market competition."

Michael stared at him, dumbfounded. "Who reported us?!"

"I did."