My husband wants to elope with his mistress. And he took our son with him—secretly, without a word to me.

Desperate, I chased after their car, clutching my daughter’s hand while I grabbed onto the car door, begging him not to go. I never imagined he’d be so cold-hearted that he would drag me along the road for over 20 meters without even slowing down the car.

Our one-year-old son was crying, calling out for “Mom!” But it didn’t make him stop. The mistress, sitting there smugly, covered my son’s mouth with her hand and stared at me with triumph in her eyes. Then, as if to crush my last bit of hope, she dug her high heel into my hand, the one holding onto the car door. My fingers were smashed and bleeding, and I fell hard onto the pavement. The car’s rear wheel just barely missed my face as it sped away.

A kind stranger rushed over, asking if I was okay, but I barely heard him. I was choking back tears as I stumbled to my feet, frantically searching the crowd for my daughter. My ten-year-old girl stood at the edge of the gathering crowd, her eyes wide with fear, her whole body trembling.

Suddenly, I regretted it all. If I’d known how heartless Ethan was, I would have never brought our daughter to chase after him.

I pushed through the crowd, reaching my daughter’s side, and pulled her into my arms. She was shaking uncontrollably, and then she clung to me, sobbing, “Mom, is Dad trying to kill you?”

I wanted to tell her no, but I have a lump in my throat. No words came out. All I could do was hold her tight and cry with my face buried in her shoulder.

Then, the screech of brakes cut through the noise, and the crowd forced Ethan’s car to a stop. Someone shouted, “That’s her! The mistress! She seduced a married man and ran off with him!”

“And that guy—he’s even worse! He dragged his own wife under the car! What kind of monster does that?”

The crowd closed in on the car. Ethan’s face turned pale as he yelled desperately, “Get the hell out of here! This has nothing to do with any of you!”

But his angry words did not scare anyone off—it just made the crowd angrier. “Get out, you scumbags!” someone shouted.

The mistress wasn’t so smug now. They dragged her out of the car by her hair, her arrogance gone, replaced by sheer humiliation and fear.

Ethan fought his way through the crowd, trying to protect his mistress, Freya. His action shattered my heart. He’s never protected me like that. He’s never shielded our child from harm like that. Whenever I argue with someone else, he always looked down on me, calling me a shrew.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t fight off the crowd alone. In a panic, he turned and ran toward me and our daughter.

“Amelia! Can’t we just talk about this at home? Do you have to make such a scene in the middle of the street? Have you no shame?” he shouted.

I stared at him in disbelief. “Shame? If you had any shame, you would not have had an affair! You want me to go home so you can grab the money, take our son, and run off with your mistress, don’t you?”

“You—” Ethan’s face flushed with anger, and he raised his hand as if to hit me.

I stood tall, refusing to flinch as his hand came toward me. For over ten years, I’d been the perfect wife—loving, supportive, and devoted to our family. But now, the man I loved treated me like trash, stomping all over my dignity and everything we’d built together.

“Look, everyone! This jerk’s about to hit his wife!” someone in the crowd shouted, drawing more attention.

Suddenly, people surrounded us and immediately stepped forward to reprimand him.

Ethan, realizing the crowd had turned against him, angrily lowered his hand and spat, “What do you want?”

I stayed silent, but the onlookers weren’t having it. “He should be reported to the police!” someone yelled.

“If that car had run over her, she’d be dead! That’s attempted murder—he should be locked up!”

“Those poor kids! How can a father be so heartless? He’s an absolute monster!”

The mistress shrieked Ethan’s name from the car, trying to drown out the crowd, while our son’s cries echoed through the chaos.

Ethan glared at me, frustrated. “You’re the one who clung to the car! You were trying to set me up!”

My hand was swollen and numb from where it had been crushed, but I kept my grip on our daughter, debating whether to call the police.

Ethan, eyes bloodshot, gritted his teeth and said, “Fine, let’s just get divorced! We’ll split the house, the car, the money—everything, fifty-fifty! You take our daughter, and I’ll take our son. Deal?”

Ethan’s mistress, clutching our son, pushed forward, her voice anxious. “Look at your son—he’s crying his heart out! He needs his mother!”

I reached out and held my son close, his hoarse little voice calling out “Mom.” Tears streamed down my face. There was no way I’d let Ethan take my child from me.

“No, Ethan. You’re the one at fault here, so you should walk away with nothing!” I pointed at the disheveled woman beside him. “Doesn’t she love you? Let’s see if she still feels the same when you have nothing left!”

Ethan’s eyes turned cold as ice. “Amelia, don’t be too greedy. Life doesn’t work that way.”

Ethan actually called me greedy... but he seemed to have forgotten that without me, he wouldn’t be living this luxurious life.

Every success his company had achieved was because of the hard work I put in, step by step.

When we first got married, he would come home exhausted, complaining about how everyone at work was out to get him and how no one appreciated his talents.

Later, when he wanted to start his own business, I didn’t hesitate for a second. I handed over every penny of my savings to help him launch that company.

But it wasn’t long after the new company was up that the complaints started again.

I knew it was normal for someone as capable as Ethan to feel overwhelmed sometimes. So even while I was pregnant, I had to step in and take on the role of the company’s executive director.

From the moment I joined, Ethan checked out, daydreaming about being a boss who doesn’t have to lift a finger. He ignored both big and small issues, leaving me to handle everything like some kind of superhero. And when I wasn’t managing the company, I was managing him—coaching him on business deals, trying to keep him motivated.

But all he did was complain. He whined about being tired, got angry at me, and accused me of taking over the company, making him look like a joke.

Later, I hired a finance student to be his assistant, and he did well—until he left. But I’m grateful I hired that assistant because if he hadn’t called me today, Ethan would have run off with the company’s money and his mistress. Ethan almost took my son, too.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized how heartless Ethan really was.

Seeing that I wasn’t backing down, Ethan angrily called the company’s legal department. Not long after, Caleb, one of the company’s lawyers, showed up. He looked young, but he spoke with authority.

“Everyone, calm down,” he said, looking around. “Your actions could be considered provocation and intentional injury. If you don’t back off, I’ll start taking photos as evidence.”

He pulled out his phone, and the crowd slowly started to disperse. The mistress, terrified and playing the victim, ran into Ethan’s arms and cried. She shot me a look that could kill, her eyes full of venom, as if she wanted to attack me right then and there.

Caleb walked over, sizing me up.

I held my son close, standing tall. I wasn’t about to let them see me as weak or easy to push around. I wasn’t backing down—not when my son’s future was at stake.

“Mrs. Grace,” Caleb began, “do you have any evidence proving Mr. Bower is at fault? The saying goes, ‘catch the crime red-handed.’ You don’t have any solid proof that Mr. Bower is having an affair, so why are you demanding that he walk away with nothing? This scene you’re causing could be considered defamation and slander. We could sue you for this.”

Hearing this, the mistress stopped crying and jumped at the chance to curse at me. “That’s right! Ameilia, you shrew, I’ll sue you! Just wait!”

Caleb turned to Ethan, who quickly pulled the mistress back, realizing the situation was getting out of hand.

Caleb cleared his throat and softened his tone. “Mr. Bower is a man who values loyalty and righteousness. You and your husband have been together for years; a peaceful separation would be best. Mr. Bower is willing to agree to a divorce and divide the assets fairly. Isn’t that reasonable?”

“If you’re willing to agree, we can let bygones be bygones about what happened today. And if you want more, we can negotiate within the bounds of the law.”

“I’ve drafted a divorce agreement for you to review,” he said, handing me the papers.

I stared at the document, feeling a mix of anger and helplessness. My teeth clenched so hard I thought they might crack. I didn’t have solid proof, but I knew Ethan had cheated on me. How could I just accept this?

Click.

A sudden flash interrupted us. Everyone turned to see where it came from. In the crowd, a tall figure stood out, someone who seemed oddly familiar. He was flipping through the photos on his camera, looking quite satisfied.

When he glanced up, I gasped in surprise. “Jasper?!”

He smiled, raising his camera as he walked over to me.

“Need evidence?” Jasper asked, holding up the camera. “I snapped a few photos earlier that should do the trick. Plus, there were plenty of witnesses to what almost turned into a crime scene. I’m sure there are plenty of good folks here willing to testify…”

“We’re willing!”

“I caught it all on video…”

“I got some footage too…”

“We’ll all testify!”

The crowd chimed in, their support making Ethan and Freya turn pale.

John’s expression darkened. “Sir, this is a private matter. Outsiders shouldn’t interfere…”

Jasper just raised an eyebrow and pulled out a business card from his suit pocket, handing it to me.

“Amelia, I’m Jasper, and I’m offering to be your legal representative in this divorce.”

I nodded eagerly, tears of gratitude blurring my vision.

Jasper Edward, my senior from college, was once the heartthrob of the law department. Back in school, we were club partners. After graduation, he went abroad for further studies, and we lost touch. But now, just when I felt most helpless, here he was—like a guardian angel descending from the sky.

“Things are too chaotic here,” Jasper said, his commanding presence immediately taking control. “Let’s find somewhere quieter to talk.”

He led us to a nearby tea house, and as soon as we sat down, I felt a surge of confidence with him by my side. My tense nerves finally started to relax, and I could think clearly again.

Jasper got straight to the point, asking, “What’s on your mind right now?”

I thought about my son, asleep in the next room, and my daughter, who hadn’t said a word the whole time.

Thinking about how close those wheels came to my head, a cold silence settled in my heart. I took a deep breath and said, “Divorce. Ethan’s affair is a fact. Whether it’s an amicable split or a court battle, I’m ready.”

Ethan shot me a furious look but kept his mouth shut, turning instead to Calbe for help.

Calbe glanced nervously at Jasper, clearly uneasy. “Ms. Grace, whether we settle this amicably or go to court, the law is fair. Mr. Bower isn’t going to walk away with nothing. Your demands are a bit much. You’ve been married for eleven years, and you have two kids together. Why make this so difficult?”

Jasper leaned forward, tapping the table. “Let’s not play the sympathy card here. Mr. Bower had an affair and is also suspected of hiding assets. So much for fairness. As for the kids, the younger one is under a year old. Custody should clearly go to the mother.” Jasper shot Ethan a cold smile. “Not only will Mr. Bower leave with nothing, but he’ll also be paying child support every month.”

I watched as Ethan’s face drained of color. It was oddly satisfying.

The mistress puffed up like a peacock, snapping, “No way! Why should she get everything? She’s just a housewife who only knows how to take care of the kids, do laundry, and cook. Ethan worked hard to build that company. She hasn’t done anything, hasn’t earned a dime. Why should she get a share?”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her ignorance. “Do you even know why Ethan tried to run off with the money? It’s because I’m the legal owner of the company, and the startup capital was my money! For years, Ethan has done nothing useful except wine and dine clients. If I hadn’t kept an eye on things, he would’ve run the business into the ground long ago.”

Ethan’s anger flared as I exposed him. “Amelia, you’re out of line! Even if the company is in your name, it’s still marital property. I’m entitled to my share, so how is it embezzlement if I take what’s mine?”

I sighed, exasperated. “I’m not going to argue with you. We’ve got a lawyer here, and I’m saying the same thing: divorce. You leave with nothing, and our children stay with me.”

“That’s my son! Why should he stay with you?!”

The mistress’s words left me stunned.

I stammered, trying to process what I’d just heard. It took a moment for it to sink in.

“Ethan, what does she mean by that? Have you both been fighting for custody of my child?”

My voice wavered, trembling with disbelief.

Doubts rippled through my mind, spreading like waves.

Ethan frowned, looking like he was ready to confess everything. “Yes. She’s right. The son isn’t yours.”

“That’s ridiculous!” I shouted, my voice sharp and cutting.

My son—the one I carried for ten months, the one I brought into this world after enduring so much—how could he not be mine? It had to be a dirty trick by Ethan to take him away from me. I didn’t want to believe it, but a creeping panic settled in my chest.

“He is my son! I’ve been with him every single day since he was born. How could he not be mine?!”

Luckily, Jasper was there. He calmed me down, his voice steady. “Let’s get a paternity test,” he suggested, his expression serious.

I clung to his strong hand, feeling a glimmer of hope. “Okay, let’s do it. I’ll listen to you.”

Ethan sneered, “Fine. You’re always this stubborn. You won’t quit until you hit rock bottom, huh?”