My Mother-in-law Fed Me “special Soup” That Caused My Three Miscarriages. I Caught Her On A Hidden Camera In A Hydrangea Vase. How Should I Execute My Final Revenge?

The Facade Crumbles

After James and his mother left, the house returned to a suffocating silence. Eleanor Vance stood motionless in the middle of the living room, staring at the spot where the liquid had been wiped from the floor. The scene earlier had been too perfect. Carol’s concern, James’s reproach—it all fit together rhythmically, turning her into an insensitive person who didn’t appreciate her mother-in-law’s kindness.

If it hadn’t been for the camera, she probably would have believed she was the one at fault, that she was being unreasonably suspicious. Carol was truly a talented actress. She hadn’t been angry at all, only showing pity and worry. That false affection was a thousand times more terrifying than any insult.

She had held her hand, rubbing it gently, her eyes full of tenderness.

“It’s okay, dear. You spilled it. It’s no big deal. As long as you’re okay, I’m happy. I simmered it since early this morning. I picked the best chicken. I put in so many nourishing herbs all just so you and the baby will be healthy. If anything happened to you, how could I face this family?”

Every word from her was like an invisible needle pricking every nerve in Eleanor. She constantly talked about her grandson and his health, but her actions had been to pour poisonous powder into the soup. This disgusting contradiction made Eleanor feel nauseous.

James, standing on the side, seeing his mother’s distressed expression, turned to his wife with a frown.

“Eleanor, look at yourself. Mom is getting older, and she comes all the way from her house every day to take care of you. Can’t you be a little more careful? You need to appreciate her kindness. Don’t make her feel bad.”

He said those words as naturally as if he truly believed his mother was a wonderful person and she was a useless daughter-in-law. Eleanor suddenly realized they weren’t just accomplices; they were a perfect team. One acted, the other reinforced the belief, weaving a sweet trap together.

Eleanor lowered her head, her shoulders trembling slightly, her voice choked with regret.

“Yes, I know I was wrong. I’m sorry, Mom. I really appreciate your kindness. It’s just that I’ve been feeling dizzy lately and can’t walk steadily. It really wasn’t intentional.”

Seeing her appearance, James’s expression softened a bit, and Carol quickly waved her hand, continuing her role as the magnanimous mother-in-law.

“It’s okay. I don’t blame you. All pregnancies are tiring. Go upstairs and rest. I’ll clean up here before leaving.”

Carol didn’t forget to hold Eleanor’s hand and say affectionately,

“I’ll cook you another even more nourishing bowl tomorrow. Okay, remember to take good care of yourself. Don’t overthink things, got it?”

Eleanor nodded obediently, seeing her mother-in-law to the door, watching the shadow of her car disappear behind the iron gate. The moment the door closed, the weak smile and remorseful expression on Eleanor’s face vanished instantly, replaced by a coldness and sharpness like ice.

The play was over, and she had survived another scene. This house, the home she had strived to build, was now no different from a horror stage where she was both the spectator and the lead actress in the play of her own life.

The Mistress Enters

From that day on, Eleanor Vance became even more cautious. She used the excuse of morning sickness to refuse all the food and drinks her mother-in-law brought. She knew that as long as she was in that house, danger lurked everywhere. She was just waiting for the lab results and the right moment to launch her counterattack.

And the opportunity came faster than she expected. On Saturday afternoon, Eleanor told James she had an appointment for prenatal yoga and dinner with some friends and would probably be back late. James readily agreed, even encouraging her to go out for a distraction. But Eleanor didn’t go anywhere. She just drove to a coffee shop near her house and sat there. Her phone was always in camera viewing mode.

About half an hour after she left, the phone screen lit up, reporting movement in the living room. Eleanor’s heart skipped a beat. She saw James open the door and walk in, and behind him was none other than a young woman. The girl was wearing an immaculate white dress; her long black hair fell over her shoulders. Her delicate face had large round eyes; she looked both innocent and pitiful.

Eleanor instantly recognized the gardenia perfume that had clung to her husband’s jacket the other day. It was undoubtedly hers. James took the girl’s hand, pulling her to sit on the same sofa where the two of them sat to watch TV every night. The young woman looked around the exquisitely designed home, her voice clear but not hiding her envy and longing.

“This is the house you share with that woman? It’s really beautiful. She must be very happy.”

James hugged her, stroking her hair, his voice full of promises.

“Soon it will be our house, yours, mine, and our son’s.”

Eleanor clenched the phone in her hand. Our son. So that was the reason, the reason for all this cruelty and lies. The girl, who must be Sophia Miller, snuggled into James’s lap with a worried expression. She gently touched her still-flat stomach, her voice coquettish.

“James, I’m still worried she won’t let you go so easily. I don’t want our son to be born without a proper name, pointed at by people.”

James laughed, a confident and cruel laugh Eleanor had never seen. He leaned close to Sophia’s ear and whispered, but loud enough for the camera to record clearly.

“Don’t worry. Everything is within my mother’s and my plan. Didn’t everything go smoothly the previous times? Just a little more time, something will happen to her on its own. By then, you and our son will enter this house with full rights.”

Something will happen to her. Those five words stabbed into Eleanor’s heart like a dagger, leaving her breathless. So the previous miscarriages had been the masterpieces of the mother and son. It wasn’t just about getting rid of unwanted babies; it was part of a larger plan, a plan to get rid of her.

After those whispers, James leaned in and kissed Sophia on the lips, a long deep kiss. They kissed passionately on her sofa, in her own home. Eleanor silently turned off the screen. The extreme pain was now replaced by another emotion: a cold burning rage. They wanted something to happen to her? Very well, she would make sure something big happened, but the one who would suffer the consequences would definitely not be her.