Page 154 of Scandalous Contract

I told him all about Lanissa, the woman we’d planned to adopt from, and how Archie said she was the best option because she was black and her ex-boyfriend was white. He called her a Godsend.

And like an idiot, I began to take that as a sign that maybe this was supposed to happen for us. I told him of how I supported that woman for months, caring for her, hoping I was helping in some way to ease her burden and show her that her baby would be in good hands.

But in the end, she was just laughing in my face, using me just like Archie. And everyone knew it, Archie, her, his family. They were all laughing in my face. I had to look so fucking stupid to them.

I’m sure they all got together and laughed at the young girl playing house with a man who didn’t love her and trying to be the perfect wife. As I talked, Julian remained silent, listening without interrupting.

But I noticed how he clenched his fist every now and then. It wasn’t long before I got lost in the story and was transported to the nightmare that was my life back then. I told him about the night that changed everything.

About the large sum that had been transferred from my account. And how I called Archie, and he didn’t answer. When I got home, I found his note. I’d seen his clothes and things missing.

There had been water tracked through the house from outside, where it was raining. That was how I knew he hadn’t been gone long. I called him multiple times, and finally he answered. He told me he was leaving me, and in the background, I heard a train, the same train I was hearing from my house.

I knew exactly where he was. And I’d gotten into my car, not knowing what I would do when I found him, just knowing I needed to find him. There was no way I was letting him keep the money my father had worked hard for.

I could remember that night like it was last night. The rain pounded against the windshield as I drove through the storm, each drop echoing the turmoil within me. My hands trembled as I gripped the steering wheel, the wipers struggling to keep up with the downpour. Archie's words still rang in my ears, a cruel symphony of betrayal.

"I can't stay with you anymore," he'd said coldly over the phone. "You can't even give me the one thing I want, a child. You’re even boring in bed. I thought all black women were supposed to be tigresses in bed. What happened to you?"

The racist fuck!While I believed love didn’t see color, to him I’d only been a fetish fuck. He’d only married me because he was obsessed with black women. Not because he thought we were beautiful.

Not because he thought we deserved to be cherished, not even because he thought love was color blind. But because he liked being dominant over us. That realization had made me sick to my stomach and even angrier with myself for what I’d let that man put me through.

That was the second murderous thoughts toward that man began to sprout in my heart. I mean, it had crossed my mind a few times. But that realization kind of solidified it for me. I wanted him dead. A train whistle blared in the distance.

Thanks to the slow train, I was able to catch up with him before he hit the highway and was lost to me forever with the money that didn’t belong to him. I spotted his car ahead. The train had passed, and he was now going over the tracks. Speeding up, I called him again, my voice shaking.

"Transfer the money back, Archie. I don't care if you leave, but you can't take what my father left me."

He laughed bitterly. "Is that you following me?”

“I want my money you motherfucker.”

“Stop following me before I kill you."

Determined, I pulled alongside him, trying to force him to stop. He sped up, all the while cursing me out on the phone. I drove faster, getting in front of him, hoping to make him stop the car. Suddenly, he swerved, losing control.

The car veered off the road, flipping once before crashing into the trees. I slammed on the brakes, heart pounding. For a moment, I sat there, paralyzed. Then, I stepped out into the rain, approaching the wreckage.

Archie was trapped inside, bloodied and barely conscious. Glass shards protruded from his face and chest. Our eyes met, and he sneered. Even hurt as badly as he was, the bastard still stared at me with hatred in his eyes. Instead of asking for help, he lashed out at me.

"I hate you," he spat. "I deserve that money for wasting my time on you."

Something inside me snapped. All the times he’d hurt me flashed through my head. All the times I’d cried silently in the bathroom, afraid to leave the room, appeared in my mind. All the lonely nights, all the heartache.

It all came rushing back to me as I stared at the man who’d been my nightmare for far too long. And a part of me wanted to end it all right then and there. Tears mingled with the rain as I reached in, placing my hand over his mouth and nose.

He struggled, but I held firm, pressing down on his face until he ceased struggling and went still. As soon as he did, I removed my hands from his mouth, unable to believe I’d actually killed my husband.

But there was no guilt. Not real guilt. In fact, there was a small sense of satisfaction that scared me. I staggered back, then noticed a figure lying a few feet away, a woman, thrown from the car. I couldn't see her face, only that she was a Black woman.

At the time, I hadn’t known who she was. I didn’t know she was Lanissa, the woman we were adopting a baby from. Seeing her there scared me. I’d only wanted to kill Archie. But now, two deaths had been caused by me.

Panic surged through me, and I fled the scene. At home, I scrubbed the mud from my shoes and washed away the evidence. Just as I stepped out of the shower, the phone rang. The hospital.

They informed me that Archie had died in a car accident and that a woman named Lanissa Wright was also involved in the accident. Lanissa, the woman we were adopting the baby from. That information had almost ripped me apart.

Apparently, Lanissa was having an emergency C-section, and they wanted me to come to the hospital. At the hospital, whispers followed me. Nurses exchanged glances, their eyes filled with judgment and pity because word had already gotten around about my situation.