My Billionaire Husband Wanted Me Dead for His Mistress

Ten AM at Stanford Medical Center's fertility clinic in Palo Alto. The soft lighting and calming music should have been soothing, but my fingers trembled as I gripped Dax's hand in the waiting room.

"Baby, relax." His voice was that low, warm tone that had made me fall for him five years ago. His thumb traced gentle circles on my knuckles. "This time will work. I can feel it."

I looked up at the man I'd loved through every success and failure. Dax had chosen my favorite navy shirt today, his beard trimmed perfectly, eyes bright with excitement.

"Mr. and Mrs. Howard? Please follow me to see the lab."

Dax practically jumped to his feet. "Finally! I want to see where our future baby's going to grow."

In the clean, white lab filled with machines keeping embryos alive, I watched my husband ask the technician a million questions.

"Honey, our baby will be here soon." He pulled me close, his hand warm on my shoulder. "BioLux needs a real heir."

My heart filled with warmth. "I've waited so long for this day. To finally give you a complete family."

A complete family. After three years of failed attempts, countless doctors, and more tears than I could count, we were finally here.

"Damn, I left my phone in the changing room," I muttered, patting my empty pockets.

"Go grab it. I'll talk to Dr. Stevens about the surgery details." Dax kissed my forehead. "Meet you back in the lobby?"

I hurried toward the changing room, my heels clicking against the shiny floors.

Suddenly, I remembered that I had put my phone in my bag, so I turned back to Dr. Stevens' office to find Dax.

That's when I heard it—Dax's voice, sharp and angry, coming from Dr. Stevens' office. "Giving bad embryos to Serena."

What?

The world tilted. Bad embryos? To me? I froze.

Without thinking, I hid behind the supply closet, just close enough to hear through the half-open door.

"Dax, this breaks every rule we have!" Dr. Stevens sounded upset. "Giving her damaged embryos..."

"I give your research lab five million dollars every year, Stevens." Dax's voice was ice-cold, nothing like the sweet tone he'd used with me minutes ago. "Don't tell me what's right and wrong."

"But Serena is your wife!"

"She's just a tool." My husband's words hit me like a punch. "Ada's baby has perfect genes. Her child will be the only healthy heir. The board needs to see a clear line of succession."

My phone nearly fell from my shaking hands. Ada? Ada Novak, his CTO? What child?

"This will ruin Serena's life! She doesn't deserve this!"

"Deserve?" Dax actually laughed. "She should be thankful for three years of a beautiful marriage. The boy Ada's carrying is our future."

Boy? Ada's pregnant?

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, fighting back a scream. Three years. Three years of trying for a baby, and he's been planning to give me broken embryos this whole time?

The hallway spun around me. I pressed my back against the cold wall, struggling to breathe.

You bastard. You complete bastard.

Somehow, I made it back to the lobby without falling apart. That's when I saw her.

Ada Novak stood at the front desk like she owned the place, her hand resting on a clearly rounded belly beneath expensive maternity clothes.

She's pregnant. She's actually showing.

"I'd like to ask about the executive fertility benefits," Ada's voice was sweet as honey as she talked to the nurse.

At least three months along. Maybe four. While I've been suffering through hormone shots and hoping, she's been carrying Dax's "perfect" baby.

Ada's eyes found mine across the lobby. A slow, winning smile spread across her face as she walked over.

"Serena! What a surprise!" Her voice was fake-sweet. "I'm here for a check-up too. I heard you and Dax are trying IVF?"

Every word felt like a slap. I forced my voice to stay calm. "Congratulations, Ada. Dax must be happy about the company's great benefits."

"Oh, he is." Ada's hand moved over her belly. "Three months along now. The baby's perfectly healthy—all the tests look great."

Perfect. Healthy. While they plan to give me damaged goods.

"The doctors say everything's going beautifully," Ada continued, her eyes shining. "Dax has been so supportive through everything."

Supportive. While lying to my face every single day.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, babe." Dax's voice appeared behind me.

I turned to see his perfect smile, as if he hadn't just been planning my medical destruction twenty minutes ago.

In the clinic's café, afternoon sunlight poured through huge windows. Dax had ordered my favorite oat milk latte without asking, just like always. He's so good at this act.

"So Ada's pregnant?" I kept my voice casual, watching his face carefully.

"Good for her." He looked genuinely happy. "But I'm more excited about our baby. Imagine—our little genius getting your brilliant mind and my business skills."

If you knew I heard everything... would you still look me in the eyes and lie?

"I've been thinking," Dax reached across the table to take my hand, "if it's a boy, we'll name him Ethan. He'll take over BioLux someday, become the youngest CEO in Silicon Valley."

"What if it's a girl?" The question hurt to ask.

Dax paused just a little too long. "Girls are wonderful too, of course. But you know how business still prefers male heirs."

Male heirs. From Ada's belly, not mine.

My stomach turned as everything became clear. Even my future children are just pieces in your power game.

The drive home on Highway 101 had always been my favorite part of the day. Now, I felt like I was in a funeral car.

"You're quiet today, baby." Dax glanced at me in the mirror. "Worried about the treatment? Trust me, everything's going to be perfect."

"Just thinking..." I stared at the tech buildings flying by. "We've known each other for five years. Do I really know you at all?"

Dax's laugh sounded fake. "Of course you do! We're soulmates, remember? You're the smartest woman I've ever met."

I wanted to throw up.

Back in our Palo Alto mansion, I moved through making dinner like a robot. Chopping vegetables with mechanical precision, my mind already working on solutions.

You think I don't know, Dax? You're wrong.

I'm not some helpless victim. I'm Serena Howard, former Google engineer, computer science PhD. If you want to play games with data, I'll show you what real tech skills look like.

Dax's phone rang.

"I need to take this." He stepped onto the terrace, his voice dropping to an urgent whisper.

Through the glass doors, I watched his body language change—tight shoulders, sharp hand movements, obvious stress. This wasn't a normal business call.

What else are you hiding?