Thomas’s grip tightened on the divorce papers. “I only brought Jess back to visit Grandma and you just had to stir up trouble in front of everyone to make my mom lose her temper. Just how badly do you want to bear my child?”
He was convinced that my call for divorce was a ruse—that my real goal was to have his child—and so he refused to sign.
The next morning, Thomas posted on social media, a photo of him and Jessica tangled together on a hotel loveseat.
Clear as day, I saw the faint rows of bite marks along his neck and the scattered bruises on Jessica’s smooth thigh.
They were trophies from a night of passion.
I was still staring, stunned, when my phone rang.
On the other end of the line, Thomas spoke with smug satisfaction. “Just as you wished, Jess and I didn’t use any protection this time. I promise the Rivers Family heir will arrive next year—just not from you.”
Part 2
Outside the Civil Affairs Bureau, I stood in the blistering sun, waiting nearly three hours before Thomas finally arrived, arm wrapped around Jessica’s waist.
The first thing he said was a threat. “You asked for this divorce, so if my family questions it, you’d better take the blame.”