Reborn to Ruin My Cheating Husband

The pregnancy test sat in my trembling hands, two pink lines staring back at me like a miracle. I couldn't stop smiling as I sat on the edge of our marble bathroom counter, the morning sunlight streaming through the window catching on the diamond of my wedding ring.

"Positive," I whispered, tracing the second line with my fingertip. "We're going to have a baby."

My heart fluttered with excitement. Alexander and I had been trying for months, and now, finally, our dream was coming true. I could already imagine his face lighting up when I told him—the way his steel-blue eyes would soften, how his normally stern expression would melt into pure joy.

I glanced at my watch. 10:30 AM. Alexander would be at his office by now, probably buried in quarterly reports or on a conference call. But this news couldn't wait. Nothing could be more important than this.

"Mrs. Blackwood?" Our housekeeper appeared in the doorway, her eyes widening at the sight of me perched on the counter. "Is everything alright?"

I couldn't contain my smile as I hopped down, carefully tucking the test into my purse. "Everything's perfect, Martha. I'm just heading out for a bit."

"Shall I tell Mr. Blackwood you'll be late for lunch?"

"No need," I said, already rushing toward the door. "I'll be back before he is. And Martha? When I return, we'll have some wonderful news to celebrate."

The drive to Alexander's office building was a blur of excitement and daydreams. I imagined telling my father next, picturing his proud smile. Robert Vance's only child, carrying on the family legacy. And then there would be nursery preparations, baby showers, tiny little fingers and toes...

"Mrs. Blackwood," the security guard nodded as I breezed through the lobby of Blackwood Enterprises. Everyone knew me here—the boss's wife, the one with the bright smile who always had time for a kind word.

"Good morning, Jeffrey," I replied, stepping into the elevator. My hand instinctively went to my purse, touching the pregnancy test like it was a talisman.

The executive floor was quieter than usual. Most of the senior staff must have been in meetings. Perfect—Alexander and I would have privacy for this special moment.

I walked past his assistant's empty desk, noting she must be taking a break. No matter. I had my own key to his office—a symbol of trust that still made me feel warm inside.

"Alexander?" I called, pushing open the heavy oak door. "I have news that—"

The words died in my throat.

Time seemed to stop as my eyes registered what was happening before me. Alexander's desk—the imposing mahogany piece where he'd made so many important business decisions—was now the stage for something utterly profane.

My husband was there, his pants around his ankles, his body thrusting rhythmically against Rachel's—my best friend since college—who was bent over the desk, her skirt hiked up, her face contorted in ecstasy.

"Oh God, Alex," she moaned, her eyes closed in pleasure.

The sound of their bodies slapping together echoed in the silent office. Papers were scattered across the floor—contracts and proposals I'd seen Alexander working on just last week.

"Emma?" Alexander's voice cut through the fog of shock. He didn't stop moving. Didn't even slow down. His eyes met mine with something worse than guilt—with irritation, as if I'd interrupted an important meeting.

"Alex..." I whispered, my voice breaking. "What are you...?"

Rachel turned her head, her mascara smudged beneath heavy eyelids. Her red lips curved into a smile when she saw me—not a smile of embarrassment or shame, but one of triumph.

"Oops," she said, her voice husky with pleasure. "Looks like we have an audience."

Alexander finally pulled away from Rachel, calmly reaching for a tissue to clean himself. There was no rush, no shame in his movements. Just the casual confidence of a man who believed himself untouchable.

"Emma," he said, his voice cold and clinical. "Since you're here, this actually saves me the trouble of calling you in later."

He straightened his tie and walked to the bar in the corner of his office, pouring himself a whiskey despite the early hour.

"Finally, no more acting," he said, taking a slow sip. "Emma, did you really think I loved you?"

The room seemed to tilt beneath my feet. "What?"

"I married you only for your father's company patents," he continued, his voice devoid of emotion. "Now that I have them, you can get lost."

Rachel laughed, straightening her clothes with deliberate slowness. She sauntered to Alexander's side, running her fingers possessively through his hair.

"Poor little Emma," she said, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "So naive. So trusting."

She reached into her purse and pulled out a stack of photographs, spreading them across the desk like playing cards.

"Look at these," she said. "Our little collection."

I forced myself to look. Each photo was a knife to my heart. Alexander and Rachel in intimate embraces at charity galas where I'd stood beside him. Alexander kissing her in a restaurant I'd never seen before. And worst of all—a photo of them together in the bridal suite on my wedding day, their bodies entwined on the very chaise lounge where I'd sat while my makeup artist applied my lipstick.

"Your wedding day was particularly memorable," Rachel purred, picking up that specific photo. "Alexander couldn't wait to get away from you, even then."

"Your technical skills in bed are pathetic compared to mine," she added with a cruel smile. "Alexander told me your first time was like watching a fish flopping around on dry land."

I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. The world had collapsed into this small, airless room where my entire life was being systematically destroyed.

"I—I'm pregnant," I managed to whisper, my hand instinctively going to my still-flat stomach.

Alexander's expression didn't change. He set down his glass and reached for his phone.

"Alexander, please," I begged, tears streaming down my face. "Think about what you're doing."

He ignored me, speaking into the phone. "Security to my office, now. And call the police."

"What? Why?" Panic rose in my chest.

"Emma Vance has stolen confidential company information," he said calmly into the phone. "She's attempting corporate espionage."

"That's a lie!" I cried, but Alexander had already hung up.

He walked to his computer and turned the screen toward me. There were files there—files I'd never seen before, with my user name all over them.

"I've been tracking you for months," he said coldly. "Planting evidence of illegal transactions in your accounts. The authorities will find everything they need to prosecute you."

"You can't do this," I whispered, backing toward the door. "My father—"

"Your father will be devastated," he finished for me. "But he'll understand when I explain that I had to protect the company from your... indiscretions."

The door burst open behind me, and two security guards entered with police officers close behind.

"This woman is a corporate spy," Alexander announced, pointing at me. "She's stolen proprietary information and is attempting to sell it to competitors."

As the officers approached me with handcuffs, I clutched my purse tighter, the pregnancy test still inside.

"I'm pregnant," I said desperately, looking at Alexander one last time. "This is your child."

He merely raised an eyebrow, his expression one of complete dismissal.

"Who knows whose child that really is?" he said coldly as the officers pulled me away.

The last thing I saw was Rachel sliding her arm around Alexander's waist, her eyes gleaming with victory as the door closed on my world.