The Womanizer's Mute Wife-Chapter 237: My Husband. My Choice.

Genesis POV

I stepped down the stone steps, thermos in one hand, the other resting lightly on my stomach out of habit now. Damon was already at the car, holding the back door open, his face as unreadable as ever. Revelation lingered a few steps behind me, quiet for once, probably still processing the kitchen conversation.

I was almost at the car when my name cut through the air.

"Genesis."

I turned.

Veronica was striding toward me, fast, purposeful, heels clicking sharply. It surprised me. She’d barely looked at me since the shooting, let alone spoken to me without venom. Her eyes flicked from my face to the lunch bag in my hand, the same black insulated bag I’d bought Kieran weeks ago, still intact after everything that happened in the office that night.

"Where are you going?" she asked, suspicion thick in her voice.

I didn’t like the tone, but I kept mine even. "To the hospital."

Her gaze slid past me to Revelation, who stood a few feet away.

"And yes," Veronica added, sharp, "I just made the call. Reported Amanda missing. I hope you’ve done your part."

Revelation gave a flat nod. "Yeah."

The plan was in motion. Veronica had called the police in full dramatic mode, tears, trembling voice, "My best friend hasn’t been seen in weeks, I’m terrified." With her theatrics and socialite status, they’d take it seriously. Last night, Revelation and the men had quietly placed Amanda’s preserved body parts in strategic public spots, park bins, alley dumpsters near high-traffic areas. Civilians would find them soon. Cops would connect the dots. The ascot (Keenan’s DNA-soaked signature) would be found with one of the pieces. Bishop’s arrogance would be his noose.

The whole thing made my stomach turn. Grotesque but necessary.

Veronica’s eyes snapped back to me. She reached out suddenly, like she was going to take the thermos right out of my hand.

I pulled it back instinctively.

"What are you doing?"

She looked at me like I’d slapped her. "What does it look like? I’m going to see Kieran. The doctors said only you’re allowed in right now, which is ridiculous considering you’re the reason he’s there in the first place. Give me the soup. I’ll take it to him myself."

I stared at her. "No."

Her face turned flushed. "What did you just say?"

"I said no. I’m going to visit my husband. Mine. You’re not going in my place."

She stepped closer, voice rising. "You’re such a horrible person, you know that?"

My brow lifted. "Excuse me?"

"I can’t believe I ever felt sorry for what I did to you," she spat. "Past me already knew what a conniving little bitch you are."

Revelation sucked in a breath and took a half-step forward, but Damon wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back against his side before she could lunge.

I snorted, my voice cold. "Sorry? You don’t feel sorry. You’re not capable of it. You tried to drown me. You took photos of me naked and let them leak onto the dark web. You never truly regretted anything. And now you’re standing here with this bullshit...."

Veronica’s face twisted with rage. She leaned in so close I could feel the heat of her breath.

"You think you’re untouchable now because you’ve got Kieran wrapped around your finger? You’re nothing. A mute charity case who spread her legs and got lucky. You shot him. You almost killed him. And you have the nerve to stand here acting like you own him?"

She was shouting now, spit flying.

"Don’t spit on me," I said quietly, wiping my cheek with the back of my hand.

Veronica blinked. "What?"

Before I could repeat it, her palm cracked across my face, hard.

My head snapped to the side. The sting bloomed instantly, hot and sharp.

Revelation exploded in Spanish..."¡Puta madre, te voy a matar, cabrona!" lunging forward so violently Damon had to grab her around the waist with both arms to hold her back. She flailed, cursing nonstop.

I slowly turned my head back to Veronica. My cheek throbbed. I tasted blood inside my mouth.

Then I laughed.

Her eyes widened.

I stepped forward.

And slapped her back.

Very hard.

The crack echoed across the driveway. Blood immediately gushed from her nose, bright red against her pale skin, dripping onto her white blouse.

"That’s for what you did to me months ago," I said calmly.

Veronica stared at me, stunned, hand flying to her face as blood streamed between her fingers.

I didn’t hesitate.

I slapped her again, harder.

The force snapped her head sideways. Her knees buckled. She crashed to the ground, one hand braced on the stone, the other clutching her bleeding nose.

"And that," I continued, looking down at her, "is for hitting me."

Revelation finally wrenched one arm free from Damon’s hold, pointing at Veronica with pure venom.

"Eres patética," she spat in Spanish.

You’re pathetic.

Veronica stayed down, blood dripping steadily onto the driveway, tears cutting clean tracks through the mess on her face. She looked up at me like she was seeing me for the first time, shock, pain, humiliation all at once.

I stepped back, voice steady but final.

"When I’m done visiting my husband at the hospital, I do not want to come back to my home and see you there. Pack your things and Get out."

Without another word, I turned and walked to the waiting car.

Damon opened the door for me. I slid inside.

Revelation climbed in after, still fuming, muttering curses under her breath.

As the car pulled away, I glanced out the window.

Veronica remained on the ground—kneeling in the driveway, blood on her face, hands shaking, tears streaming.

She didn’t move.

She didn’t follow.

And for the first time in months, the silence in my chest didn’t feel heavy.

It felt like power.

****

Hospital – Kieran’s Room

I stepped inside alone. Damon and Revelation stayed in the hallway, Damon with his back to the door, arms crossed; Revelation pacing like a caged panther, still quietly fuming about Veronica and why Damon did not let her on that bitch, her words not mine.

The room smelled of antiseptic and faint copper.

Kieran was propped up slightly, eyes half-open, monitors beeping steady. Tubes snaked from his arm, chest bandaged thickly under the hospital gown. He looked pale, bruised, but awake.

Alive.

"Hey, baby," I whispered, soft smile breaking across my face as I stepped closer.

His gaze found me instantly. Something raw and relieved flickered in those gorgeous blue eyes.

I set the lunch box on the rolling table and dragged the chair right up to the bed. I sat, reached for his hand, the one without the IV and laced our fingers together.

"I brought soup," I said, voice thick. "Chicken noodle. Your favorite. Thought you might be tired of hospital food."

He tried to speak, voice rasped out rough, barely there. "Prin... cess."

Tears stung my eyes immediately.

I laughed wetly. "Don’t talk too much. Doctors said short bursts only."

I opened up the lunchbox and unscrewed the thermos, spooned out a small amount, blew on it gently, and brought it to his lips.

He took it slowly, swallowing with effort. His eyes never left mine.

I fed him another spoonful. Then another.

Halfway through, I set the spoon down and rested my free hand on the small swell of my stomach.

"Our baby’s growing," I whispered, voice cracking. "Kicking more every day. Little punches. Like he or she knows you’re fighting to come home."

Kieran’s gaze dropped to my bump. His hand, weak, trembling, slid from mine and covered my stomach instead. His palm was warm, calloused, familiar.

He didn’t speak just rested there, thumb brushing slow circles over the fabric.

I leaned forward, my forehead touching his, tears falling freely now.

"Get well, Kieran," I breathed. "Get strong. So you can touch him yourself. So you can hold us both."

He exhaled shakily almost a laugh and a sob at the same time.

I kissed his temple, then his cheek, then the corner of his mouth, soft, careful.

"I love you," I whispered against his skin. "I’m not going anywhere."

His fingers flexed against my stomach.

A promise.

I stayed like that for a long time, feeding him slowly, crying quietly, holding onto the man who’d almost died because of me... and who’d still chosen me anyway.

Outside the door, Revelation and Damon waited.

Inside the room, the world felt small and safe.

Just us.

Just for now.