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 Husband’s Confession

After discovering her mother-in-law’s sick obsession, Eleanor Vance understood that James couldn’t have been unaware. Such an obsessed mother could not have perfectly hidden all the clues from her only son on whom she pinned all her hopes. James’s silence was complicity.

But knowing was one thing, and having proof was another. To make it impossible for him to deny it in court, she needed a confession from his own mouth. She decided to set a trap, a warm false family gathering. Richard helped her arrange a key character for this trap.

Eleanor told James she wanted to host a small party at home to celebrate her new project that she had just signed a successful contract for, and also to make up for her recent volatile mood. James, of course, was delighted. He thought his wife had finally come to her senses, putting aside her suspicions.

He invited a few close friends, including Tony, whom he considered his best friend, not knowing that Tony was the person Richard had infiltrated. The party went on in a cheerful atmosphere. Eleanor played the role of the exemplary wife to perfection, constantly serving food and wine to her husband and his friends.

When she saw that James was dizzy from the alcohol, Eleanor excused herself, saying she was tired and needed to rest upstairs, leaving the space for the men. Before leaving, she discreetly turned on the recorder of an old phone she had placed on a nearby bookshelf. Downstairs, after a few more drinks, Tony began to steer the conversation according to the script carefully prepared by Richard.

He patted James on the shoulder with a sympathetic tone.

“Hey man, Eleanor seems tired lately, doesn’t she? Looks like this pregnancy is harder than the previous ones. You have to take good care of her. You don’t want another accident to happen.”

James, already drunk, sighed, letting out a litany of complaints.

“What do you know? There’s so much pressure. It’s not fun. So much hope, then so much disappointment. I’m exhausted.”

Tony lit a cigarette, took a long drag, and said casually.

“Or maybe she’s just not compatible with your family. I see your mom is very worried. She’s always asking you about a grandson.”

This sentence struck a nerve with James. He grabbed the wine bottle, poured himself a full glass, and downed it in one go. His voice became slurred but full of bitterness. He leaned close to Tony and whispered, but just loud enough for the phone to record everything.

“My mom… she just wants what’s best for me. She has her ways. I knew about the previous times, but what could I do? Anyway, they were just unformed fetuses. Letting them go isn’t a big deal either. As long as I get a healthy son, any sacrifice is worth it.”

That cold, cruel confession came out of his mouth smoothly, as if it were an undeniable truth. He knew everything but had chosen to remain silent and accept his mother’s crime. A few minutes after Tony left, Eleanor’s phone received an audio file.

She put on her headphones, lying in bed silently listening to every word from her husband whom she had once loved with all her life. That familiar voice now sounded strange and disgusting. The last illusion, the last glimmer of hope that he might have just been deceived, had completely vanished. He was not just a cheating husband; he was a cold-blooded accomplice willing to sacrifice his own children to satisfy his selfishness and his family’s obsession.

In the darkness, a single ice-cold tear rolled down Eleanor’s cheek. It was no longer warm.

Seizing Control

With all the irrefutable evidence in her hands—the video of Carol poisoning, the lab results, the photos of James and Sophia being intimate in her own house, and finally the audio of his confession—Eleanor Vance felt a strange calm. She had suppressed the pain and outrage, transforming them into a detailed and decisive plan of action.

This was not the time for weakness but for reclaiming everything that belonged to her and her child. The first and most important step was to secure her financial independence so that after leaving this hell, she and her child could live a stable life without depending on anyone.

She had another meeting with Richard Mendes, not to cry or vent, but to discuss strategy. She laid out her thoughts lucidly and logically. Richard listened to her with admiration in his eyes. He didn’t expect this seemingly fragile woman to have such a strong spirit and a clear mind.

With his advice, Eleanor began to act secretly and swiftly. She started requesting statements for all joint bank accounts, collecting receipts and documents to prove which assets had been purchased with her premarital funds. Most importantly, she decided to regain control of her interior design firm, Aura Interior Design, which she had founded herself years ago.

After getting married and being persuaded by James to retire to focus on the family, she had trusted him and transferred most of the company’s stock and operational control to him. It was the biggest mistake of her career. Now was the time to correct it.

Based on a clause in the transfer agreement that Richard had pointed out, Eleanor had the first right to buy back the stock if the transferee engaged in acts that damaged the company’s reputation and interests. James’s infidelity and dark conspiracies, once exposed, would undoubtedly be a fatal blow to the prestige of the Aura Interior Design Brand.

Eleanor used her savings and private investments to quietly carry out the legal procedures for buying back the stock. Everything was done confidentially through Richard and intermediaries without James’s knowledge. He was still absorbed in his plans, thinking his wife was just a meek lamb. He didn’t know that this lamb was reclaiming the entire forest step by step.

Meanwhile, at home, she remained a sweet wife, a pregnant woman in need of care. She continued to smile at her husband, continued to thank her mother-in-law, but behind that smile was a mind calculating every move. The contrast between her outward appearance and her internal actions created immense pressure, but it also made her sharper than ever.

Every day that passed, she felt a little stronger, like a sword being sharpened in the fire. Finally, the day came. Eleanor sat in Richard Mendes’s office, putting her pen to the last page of the transfer file. From that moment on, Aura Interior Design, her brainchild, had officially returned to the hands of its true owner.

She looked at her signature on the paper. It wasn’t just a name; it was the strongest Declaration of Independence. She had built her fortress, accumulated enough supplies and weapons. Now she was completely ready to throw open the door of that rotten castle and make those living inside pay the price.