The Betrayed Wife's Ultimate Comeback Game

"Bethany, Lana has her whole life ahead of her. She can't just die like this. Since your heart is a match, just help her this once! You've always been so kind. You'll do this, won't you? Lana will be grateful to you for the rest of her life."

Inside a private dining room, Brandon Parker spoke to his wife, Bethany Gordon, his voice thick with pleading.

Bethany's blood ran cold, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Do you even hear yourself? I'm over seven months pregnant, and you want me and our baby to die?"

Today was his student Lana Barrett's birthday, and Brandon had gone out of his way to throw her this party.

Lana came from a tragic background and suffered from congenital heart disease. Brandon had always taken extra care of her, and Bethany had never once complained.

But just moments ago, Lana had suddenly pulled out a medical report. It showed that Bethany's heart was a perfect match for hers.

But what hit Bethany harder than the shock was her husband's sheer callousness. He had chosen to sacrifice her and their unborn child without a second thought.

"Bethany, I know it's unfair. But Lana is too young to die just like that. You're strong and healthy. I'll get you the best artificial heart money can buy, and we can always have another baby later. Just look at it as a good deed. Help Lana survive this, okay?" Brandon coaxed her.

Watching him grovel for another woman while ruthlessly pressuring his own wife, Bethany felt a furious chill settle deep in her bones. "Brandon, do you even remember whose husband you are? You want to sacrifice me and our baby for an outsider. Do you even deserve to be called a husband? A father?"

Her voice hardened. "I will never agree to something this ridiculous. Don't even try to guilt-trip me."

The pleading gentleness vanished from Brandon's face. He roared, "Bethany, how can you be so selfish? How can an unborn fetus compare to a living, breathing person? We can have another kid, but Lana will die without this transplant. Stop being so cold-blooded, will you?"

"Cold-blooded?" Bethany's eyes burned red, a bitter smile twisting her lips. "You're asking to trade the lives of your heavily pregnant wife and your own flesh and blood for your student. Tell me, who's the cold-blooded one here?"

A dead silence fell over the room. The tension in the air was suffocating.

Right then, Lana stepped forward, her eyes red. Tears spilled down her cheeks the second she opened her mouth. "Please... stop arguing! It's all my fault. I wasn't thinking straight."

She ripped the report in half. "Today is April Fools' Day. I faked the report as a joke. I didn't mean to take it this far. Please, just stop fighting over this."

"April Fools'?" Brandon froze. Recovering from his shock, he didn't even look angry. Instead, he reached out to pat Lana's head, his voice a gentle scolding. "Don't do this again. Your illness is nothing to joke about."

"I know, Prof. Parker," Lana sniffled.

As Bethany saw them acting so intimately right in front of her, the truth hit her like a physical blow-her husband was having an affair. The man who had stood at the altar and sworn to love and protect her for the rest of his life was now willing to sacrifice her and their unborn child for another woman.

"Brandon, we're done." Her voice was pure ice. "I want a divorce."

Brandon furrowed his brows, looking at her as if she were being completely unreasonable. "Over a harmless joke? Do you really have to throw the word 'divorce' around?"

"To you, sacrificing my life and our baby's is a harmless joke?" Bethany sneered, though her heart was bleeding. "If this hadn't been a prank, what would you plan to do? Dragging me to the hospital, forcing an abortion, and carving out my heart for her?"

Having nothing to defend himself, Brandon lashed out. "It was just a joke. Do you really have to blow it out of proportion? The Gordon family is bankrupt. You have no one to rely on, and you're still paying to keep your mother on life support. What right do you have to demand a divorce?"

At those words, whatever warmth was left in Bethany's heart died.

"Don't you ever forget who gave you everything you have, Brandon! Seven years ago, you were nothing. The Gordon family paid for your education. My father pulled the strings to get you that professorship at Aulford University. After we got married, I was the one staying up night after night, polishing your manuscripts and refining your work until you became this 'highly-respected' literary figure. My family gave everything to build you up. It's one thing to be an ungrateful bastard, but to use my mother's condition to threaten me? Do you have any conscience left at all?"

With his shameful past dragged into the light, Brandon's face darkened with rage.

Seeing this, Lana immediately stepped in front of him, playing the fierce protector. "I admit-I took the joke too far and made you angry. I apologize. But you shouldn't talk about Prof. Parker like that. He might not come from a wealthy background, but he built his success step by step. You have no right to look down on him."

"Shut up!" Bethany shot her a lethal glare. "It's not your place to speak. He climbed the ladder by leeching off my family's resources, and you're clinging to his coattails. In the end, you're doing the exact same thing as he is. Your little April Fools' prank was just a deliberate test of where I drew the line, wasn't it? Now that you've successfully turned my husband against me, drop the innocent act."

Lana turned deathly pale, rendered completely speechless. A second later, she swayed violently. Clutching her chest and gasping for air, she collapsed to the floor. "My heart... it hurts so much..."

"Lana!" Brandon panicked, scooping her into his arms. "Don't be afraid. I'm taking you to the hospital right now."

Before rushing out, he shot a venomous glare at Bethany. "Look what you've done! You know Lana has a weak heart. If anything happens to her today, I will make you pay for it."

After they left, the silence in the private room gave way to hushed, gossiping whispers.

"His wife is heavily pregnant, and Prof. Parker just left her behind? Did you see how frantic he was over Lana?"

"A couple of days ago, some students saw Prof. Parker and Lana hugging in the woods. I didn't expect her to be a home-wrecker."

"Well, don't all men like young, pretty girls? Prof. Parker is a big deal now. He and his wife aren't even in the same league anymore."

Every word, every whispered sentence pierced Bethany's heart like a needle. She whipped her head around, the shock still raw in her eyes. "What did you just say?"

"N-nothing. It's getting late. We should head back to campus."

Realizing they had said too much, the students quickly grabbed their things and scurried out.

Bethany stood alone in the empty room, her face terrifyingly pale.

She had given Brandon her entire heart, and in the end, her marriage was nothing but a sick joke.

Outside the restaurant, the wind howled, and the rain came down in torrential sheets.

Bethany tried every ride-hailing app on her phone, but by the time the restaurant closed its doors, not a single driver had accepted her request.

Left with no choice, she cradled her heavy belly and stepped out alone into the pouring rain.

The downpour was relentless, the night wind biting straight through her clothes.

Even with an umbrella, Bethany was soon soaked to the bone. She hadn't walked far before a dull, heavy ache began to throb in her lower abdomen.

Her phone chimed. Lana had just posted an update.

Bethany tapped the notification.

The attached picture was taken from behind-a man and a woman snuggled tightly together in a movie theater.

The caption read, "I don't want to get too mushy, but I'm so grateful to have you by my side."

It had been posted just moments ago.

As Bethany stared at the glaring photo, the pain in her abdomen suddenly flared.

She gritted her teeth, wrapping her arms protectively around her belly. "Baby, it's okay. Even if your daddy isn't around, Mommy will protect you. You need to be strong."

Suddenly, a beat-up van swerved and slammed to a halt by the curb.

Several thugs with tattoos piled out, gripping baseball bats. Eyes locked on her, they marched straight in her direction.