My Husband Claimed He Was On A Business Trip. I Found Him At The Hospital With My Pregnant Best Friend. Little Does He Know, I Just Cut Him Off From Every Penny He Ever Stole. What Should I Do Next?

Chapter 12: Checkmate

“Richard,” I said coldly.

“Why are you yelling at me? You are the one who went on a business trip without preparing any cash, and you are blaming me? Besides, you are in Chicago dealing with a client. Can the client not cover it for now, or are you not with a client at all?”

That question left Richard speechless—a long silence on the other end of the line.

“Of course, of course I am with the client. What I mean is, it is embarrassing to ask him for a loan. Well, never mind, I will figure it out. You are a wife who cannot be trusted when her husband is in trouble.”

Click. The call was unilaterally disconnected by Richard.

I stared at the dark screen of the phone. A wife who cannot be trusted? I let out a cynical laugh. Just wait until you realize this useless wife is the owner of the oxygen you breathe in the hospital.

Richard slammed his phone against the waiting room sofa. His breathing was ragged. He patted his pockets and wallet, counting the cash he had left. $50 was all the cash he had. Meanwhile, the hospital deposit they were asking for was $500, not to mention Lauren’s craving for cronuts.

With a defeated posture and his pride shattered, Richard returned to room 305. He entered with a scowl.

“Where are my cronuts, love?” Lauren asked enthusiastically upon seeing Richard, but her smile faded when she saw his empty hands.

“Hey, why did you not bring anything?”

Richard sat on the edge of the bed, massaging his temples.

“The bakery was closed.”

“Honey, that is a lie. It is a 24-hour hotel restaurant. Are you being cheap, or are you just broke?” Lauren started to whine, irritated.

Her true demanding nature surfaced when her wishes were not met.

“It is not that, Lauren. My credit cards have a problem. It seems like the entire banking system is down nationwide. I cannot get any cash.” Richard excused himself; he was reluctant to admit he had been cut off.

“So what am I supposed to eat? I do not like the hospital soup!” Lauren threw a pillow at Richard.

“Eat what is here! I will look for a loan this afternoon,” Richard shouted.

The stress made him unintentionally yell at the woman he supposedly loved. Lauren was stunned; her eyes filled with tears.

“You are yelling at me? You are so cruel! You used to promise me the world, and now you cannot even buy me some cronuts.”

The atmosphere in room 305 grew tense; a small fight began to brew. Meanwhile, outside, the real storm was approaching.

Chapter 13: The Thieves’ Den

10:00 a.m. I had already checked out of the hotel. My red Mercedes glided through the streets of Havenwood towards a residential area on the outskirts. Behind me, a black minivan followed. Inside were Hector, two security guards in black uniforms, and a locksmith.

My destination was not the hospital. I would let Richard rot there in his confusion. My destination was the Thieves’ Den—the modern minimalist house in the exclusive residential area where Lauren lived. That house was one of my first real estate properties. I bought it in cash before marrying Richard and, foolishly, out of pity for Lauren—who told me she had been kicked out of her rental apartment—I let her live there. It turned out the place had become their love nest.

My car stopped right in front of a tall black gate. The house looked quiet. Of course, its occupants were on a romantic retreat at the hospital. I got out of the car, wearing sunglasses. Hector and his team immediately got out and stood behind me.

“Is that the house, ma’am?” Hector asked.

“Yes, that is my house tainted by trash,” I replied dryly.

The neighborhood security guard, seeing our group, approached with an alert expression.

“Excuse me, ma’am. Can I help you? Who are you?”

I took off my sunglasses and looked at the guard.

“I am Sarah Hayes, the legal owner of this house. I want to enter my property. Are you going to stop me?”

The guard was stunned. He recognized the Hayes name, a family that owned many assets in the area.

“Oh, excuse me, Mrs. Hayes, but Mrs. Pierce did not mention any visitors.”

“Lauren is just a guest here, sir, and today her stay has ended,” I cut him off firmly.

I turned to the locksmith.

“Sir, open the lock. If it is difficult, break it. I will pay for the damages.”

“At your service, ma’am.”

Chapter 14: Reclaiming the Property

The sound of a drill and a saw broke the morning silence of the luxurious neighborhood. Neighbors began to peek out of their windows, but I did not care. I stood tall with my arms crossed.

Click. The gate opened.

I entered the yard. The lawn was well-manicured. Richard’s sports motorcycle was parked there—the motorcycle he claimed to have sold a year ago. Lie after lie kept coming to light.

We reached the front door. The locksmith went to work again. In a short time, the oak door swung open. The cool air from the air conditioning greeted me, and as I entered the living room, my eyes caught something that made my blood boil again.

On the living room wall hung a huge pre-wedding photograph: Richard and Lauren tenderly embracing with the Eiffel Tower in the background. Richard’s business trip to Paris last month, which he supposedly went on alone.

“Excellent,” I hissed. My voice trembled, containing my rage.

“Hector?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Take everything out of this house. Everything. The clothes, the furniture, these disgusting photos. Put it all in a truck or just pile it up in the front yard. I want this house empty before sunset.”

“Understood, ma’am. And where should we send their things?”

I looked at the photo of Richard’s fake smile.

“Do not send them anywhere. Pile them up in front of the gate to be a spectacle for the neighbors. And as for this photo—”

I picked up a vase from the table and threw it with all my might at the frame.

Crash. The glass of the frame shattered, tearing their happy faces in the photo.

“Burn it,” I added coldly.

I walked towards the master bedroom. I was going to take back what was mine and leave them without a roof over their heads when they came home. My phone vibrated again: a message from the bank. Notification of a failed transaction attempt at Our Lady’s Hospital for $1,500 with the platinum credit card. Richard was trying to pay for something expensive, maybe a procedure or just a forced deposit. He was starting to panic. I smiled with satisfaction. Struggle, Richard. This is just the beginning.