MY HUSBAND LEFT ME FOR HIS BOSS WHILE I WAS PREGNANT—THEN THEY DEMANDED ONE OF MY BABIES.
At seven months pregnant with twins, my world shattered.
I got a message from my husband’s boss, Veronica. Thought it was work-related. But when I opened it?
A picture. Eric. Shirtless. Smirking. Caption: “It’s time for you to know. He’s mine.”
By evening, I was waiting for him, heart pounding. When the door opened—he wasn’t alone. Veronica waltzed in like she owned the place.
Eric sighed. “Lauren, let’s be adults. I love Veronica. I’m leaving you.”
Then Veronica crossed her arms. “And since this is HIS apartment, you’ll need to move out by the end of the week.”
I saw red. “I have nowhere to go! I’m carrying HIS children!”
She tilted her head. “Twins, right? I’ll rent you a house, cover expenses… if you give me ONE of your babies.”
My blood ran cold. “What?!”
“Twins are hard. But I want a baby—WITHOUT RUINING MY BODY.” She stroked Eric’s chest. “I’ll raise the child as mine. You get a roof over your head. It’s a fair deal.”
Eric just nodded. Like this was normal.
I wanted to scream. Instead, I forced a tearful smile.
“Deal. But I have one condition.”
Veronica smirked. “Smart girl. What’s the condition?”
They had NO idea what was coming.
I took a slow breath, placing a gentle hand on my belly as if I were considering her offer.
Then, I looked her dead in the eye.
“You’ll both sign a contract.”
Veronica blinked. “A… contract?”
I nodded. “If you want one of my babies, I need legal protection. Everything in writing. You’ll cover my housing, medical expenses, and ensure I’m financially secure.”
Eric scoffed. “Lauren, come on—”
I cut him off with a sharp glare. “If you’re serious, let’s be adults, right? Let’s make it official.”
Veronica’s lips curled into a satisfied smirk. “Fine. I’ll have my lawyers draft something.”
Good. That’s exactly what I wanted.
The Setup
The next day, I met with Veronica’s lawyers. She had no idea that I had already contacted my own.
I sat there, feigning vulnerability, while Veronica discussed the terms like she was picking a designer handbag.
But hidden in the fine print?
Every loophole I needed to destroy them.
A custody clause stating that once the baby was born, I had full legal authority to change my mind.
A financial agreement ensuring they would cover everything before birth—no takebacks.
A breach of contract clause that would cost them millions if they attempted to force my hand.
Veronica signed without hesitation.
Eric? He didn’t even read it.
Fools.
The Grand Finale
A month later, I went into labor.
Veronica practically sprinted into the hospital, dressed like a celebrity adoptive mother, ready to claim her baby.
She even hired a photographer.
But when she waltzed into my room, the head nurse blocked her path.
“Mrs. Lauren has declined all visitors,” she said flatly.
Veronica’s smirk disappeared. “Excuse me? My baby is in there!”
The nurse barely blinked. “No, both of Mrs. Lauren’s babies are with their mother.”
Veronica lost it. “SHE SIGNED A CONTRACT!”
Oh, sweetheart.
I sat up in bed, holding both of my precious twins.
Smiling.
“I sure did,” I said sweetly. “And so did you. Which means you’re legally required to pay for all my medical bills, housing, and expenses—without any claim to my children.”
Her face went red. “That’s—That’s not—”
“Oh, but it is,” I purred, waving the contract. “You really should’ve read the fine print.”
Eric, the idiot, finally caught up. “Wait… you tricked us?”
I beamed. “No, honey. I just played you at your own game.”
Veronica screamed like a banshee. Eric tried to argue. But the hospital security?
They escorted them out.
Epilogue: The Best Revenge
Thanks to my ironclad contract, Veronica and Eric were forced to keep paying long after my babies were born.
They tried to fight it in court.
They lost.
Veronica fired Eric not long after. Turns out, once he wasn’t useful, she didn’t actually love him that much.
As for me?
I took every penny they owed me, built a beautiful home for my babies, and never looked back.
They tried to take my child.
Instead, I took everything from them.