Hell Hath no fury like a billionaire's Ex-Chapter 106: The Confession

Diane’s POV

The sound of Natasha’s sobs echoed in my ears as I watched her retreating figure disappear between the trees. My legs felt like lead, but something deep inside me—maybe it was the mother’s instinct already growing within me, or perhaps just the desperate need for truth—propelled me forward. I had to know. I had to hear it from her own lips.

I found her behind an abandoned maintenance truck near the edge of the park, crumpled against the rusted metal like a broken doll. The sight of her stopped me in my tracks. She was hitting herself, her small fists pounding against her thighs as she sobbed.

"You’re useless, Natasha," she was saying to herself, her voice raw and broken. "You hurt and destroy everything around you. You’re trash... you’re nothing but trash."

My heart shattered watching her self-destruction. Despite everything, despite the growing suspicion that was eating away at my insides, seeing someone in that much pain made my own tears start falling. I stood there for what felt like an eternity, watching this beautiful young woman tear herself apart with words that sounded too familiar.

Finally, I found my voice.

"Is it true, Natasha?" The words came out as barely a whisper, but they might as well have been screams for the way they made her freeze. "Please, Natasha. I need you to answer me. Is it true... were you sleeping with my husband?"

She couldn’t bring herself to face me. Her shoulders shook as she slowly, painfully, nodded her head once.

That single nod broke something inside me that I didn’t know could break any further. I cupped my face in my hands and let out a sound I didn’t recognize—somewhere between a sob and a wail of pure anguish.

"Why... God?" I cried out to the sky. "What have I done in my former life to deserve this kind of treatment from people close to me? Where have I gone wrong?"

The questions poured out of me like blood from a wound. Every betrayal, every lie, every moment of false comfort crashed over me in waves. First Liam, then Sophie, and now Natasha—the girl I’d been trying to save, the daughter of a man I was learning to trust, the woman I’d offered my friendship to just hours ago.

Before I knew it, Natasha was on her knees before me, her hands clutching at my legs, her face streaked with tears and mascara.

"Please forgive me," she begged, her voice breaking on every word. "Please, Diane, I’m so sorry. I never knew... I never knew that this day would come when the person I would lean on would be the person whose husband I was sleeping with. I never knew it would be you."

Her words hit me like physical blows. I removed my hands from my face and wiped my tears with the back of my hand, trying to process what she was saying. She never knew it would be me. Which meant she knew she was sleeping with someone’s husband. She knew she was the other woman.

Without saying a word, I walked away from her. I couldn’t look at her anymore, couldn’t bear the sight of her kneeling there like a penitent when the damage was already done. My twins seemed to kick in response to my emotional turmoil, as if they could sense their mother’s distress.

But Natasha followed me. Of course she did. I could hear her footsteps behind me, hesitant but persistent, as I made my way to one of the park benches near the pond. The weight of everything—the pregnancy, the betrayals, the crushing realization that I was apparently a magnet for people who would use and hurt me—pressed down on my shoulders until I had to sit down.

Natasha sat beside me tentatively, leaving space between us but close enough that I could feel her presence like a wound that wouldn’t stop bleeding.

"Let me tell you how it started," she said quietly, her voice hoarse from crying. "Let me tell you how I met Liam."

I didn’t want to hear it. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to get up and walk away, to go home and pretend this conversation never happened. But I also knew that I needed to know. I needed to understand how many ways my life had been built on lies.

Natasha took a shaky breath, staring out at the pond as if the words were written on the water’s surface.

"When my mom died," she said, voice barely above a whisper, "something in me cracked. Not broke—cracked. The kind of crack that lets the dark in slowly... until it’s everywhere."

She swallowed hard, and for a moment, I thought she might stop.

"My dad wasn’t there. Said he had a meeting in Japan. Said it was for us." She let out a brittle laugh that sounded like glass snapping underfoot. "For us. But he missed her final breath. Missed mine, too, in a way."

Her hands twisted in her lap.

"I told him he could keep his money. Keep the future he was building. I didn’t want any of it—not if it cost us her."

She paused, exhaling like the memory was pressing down on her lungs.

"So I looked elsewhere. For love. For anything that felt like someone choosing me. I was beautiful. Still am, I guess. That kind of beauty that makes men stare too long and ask too little."

"I ended up with this guy. Thought he loved me. Thought I’d finally been picked, you know?" Her laugh this time was quieter, darker. "He wasn’t love. He was a fraud with fists."

Her fingers rose to her neck, brushing the skin as if she could still feel his hands there. fгeewebnovёl.com

"He almost killed me."

The words hung in the air between us.

"I ran. That night I left him, I was still crying when I walked straight into a group of men who thought tears made me easier prey.

I had told them I had no money, but they wanted to take advantage of me instead..."

She paused, her breathing becoming shallow as the memory overwhelmed her.

"That’s when I met Liam. He saved me from them."

My stomach twisted. Of course. Of course he’d been her knight in shining armor.

"He appeared out of nowhere," she continued, her voice taking on that old worship despite everything. "Like some kind of guardian angel. He fought them off, made sure I was okay, took me somewhere safe. I was so broken, so grateful, and he was so... kind. At least, I thought he was kind."

I closed my eyes, seeing it all too clearly. Liam with his charm, his ability to read people and give them exactly what they needed in their most vulnerable moments. He’d done the same thing to me, hadn’t he?

"I was at my lowest point," Natasha admitted. "Still reeling from my abusive relationship, still angry at my father, still grieving my mother in ways I didn’t even understand. And here was this successful, handsome man who seemed to genuinely care about what happened to me. He didn’t just save me that night—he made me feel like I was worth saving."

"How long?" I asked, my voice barely audible.

"2 years.....can’t remember," she whispered, and I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. "We made an agreement to meet every second Tuesday of every month at the Ritz Carlton. He would book a suite, and we would... we would spend the night together."

The Ritz Carlton. The hotel I’d seen on his credit card statements. The charges, the one Joan and I had seen, the same woman who the manager of the hotel had confirmed that is always with Liam as regular guest at Ritz-Carlton and was always meeting her every second Tuesday of the month.

He’d been with her while I sat at home, sometimes worried about him working late, sometimes planning special dinners for when he got home.

"I became his side chick," she said, the term falling from her lips like a confession. "I knew that’s what I was, but I told myself it didn’t matter because he made me feel loved. In his own twisted way, he made me feel like I was worth something. After years of my father choosing business over family, after that abusive relationship that nearly killed me, Liam’s attention felt like salvation."

"Did you know he was married?" The question came out sharper than I intended.

She nodded, fresh tears starting to fall. "Not at first. But after about six months, I figured it out. He never talked about his personal life, never let me call him except on specific days, never stayed the whole night. And then one day, I saw his wedding ring. He’d forgotten to take it off."

The betrayal cut deeper, knowing that she’d made the conscious choice to continue seeing him after she knew. But even as anger rose in my throat, I could see the broken young woman beside me, could hear the desperation in her voice when she talked about feeling loved.

"Even though I knew he was married, I still see him as the only one who cared about me. So I started having real feelings for him," she admitted. "Deep, consuming feelings. I knew it was wrong, knew he would never leave his wife for me, but I couldn’t let go. He was the only person who saw me, who made time for me. Even though he only called when he needed me around, even though I was just his Tuesday night girl, it was better than being completely alone."

"You were the woman he was bringing to the Ritz Carlton," I said, the pieces finally clicking into place. "All those charges, all those late nights... it was you."

She nodded miserably. "Every month, like clockwork.

The image made me sick. This beautiful young woman, dressing up for my husband, waiting alone in hotel rooms while I sat at home wondering where he was.

"Does your father know?" I asked, though I was pretty sure I already knew the answer.

"God, no," she said quickly. "It would break his heart. He already blames himself for not being there when Mom died, for all the time he spent building his business while I was growing up angry and alone. If he knew what I’d become... what I’d been doing..."

That’s when the final piece of the puzzle clicked into place, and I felt sick.

"Natasha," I said, my voice taking on a cold, clinical tone that surprised even me. "Do you know that Liam has been blackmailing your father?"

Her head snapped up, confusion and fear written across her face. "What?"

"He thinks you’re your father’s escort," I continued, watching her face crumble as understanding dawned. "He’s been planning to expose your father, thinking he is involved with you. He’s been keeping tabs on you and your dad, taking pictures of your meetings."

"No," she whispered, shaking her head violently. "No, that can’t be true. Liam wouldn’t... he wouldn’t use me like that."

But even as she said it, I could see that she knew it was true. The pieces were falling into place for her too.

"He’s been using you to get to your father," I said, and each word felt like a knife in my own heart because I was realizing how thoroughly Liam had manipulated all of us. "Your father is moving against him as CEO, and Liam needed leverage. You were that leverage."

Natasha began to cry in earnest now, great heaving sobs that shook her entire body. "He never saw me more than his tool for pleasure," she gasped between tears. "I was just... nothing."

I wanted to comfort her. Despite everything, despite the fact that she’d been sleeping with my husband for two years, I wanted to put my arms around her and tell her it would be okay. But I couldn’t. The pain was too fresh, too raw, and I wasn’t sure I had any comfort left to give.

"I don’t know if I can let this go," I said finally, my voice barely audible over her crying. "My life has been full of nothing but pain and heartbreak. Every time I think I can trust someone, every time I open my heart, it gets shattered into smaller pieces."

She looked up at me then, her face streaked with tears and mascara, looking younger.

"But sometimes," I continued, struggling with my own tears, "sometimes God puts situations in our path to test us. I’ve been talking to you about letting go of burdens, about not letting anger consume you. Now it’s time for me to put that to the test."

The irony wasn’t lost on me. Here I was, pregnant with twins, sitting next to the woman who’d been sleeping with my husband, talking about forgiveness and letting go of burdens.

"I’m in a dilemma, Natasha," I said, looking out at the pond where ducks were swimming peacefully. "Part of me wants to hate you. Part of me wants to make you pay for what you’ve done to my marriage, to my life. But another part of me sees a young woman who was grieving and vulnerable and got taken advantage of by a man who’s much better at manipulation than either of us realized."

She was quiet now, listening intently to every word.

"You were young when your mother died," I continued. "Alone and drowning in grief, fleeing from an abusive relationship. Liam found you at your lowest point and used your pain for his own purposes. That doesn’t excuse what you did, but it helps me understand it."

"I’m so sorry," she whispered. "I’m so, so sorry, Diane. I never wanted to hurt you. When I met you today and you were so kind to me... I felt sick. I felt like the worst person in the world."

"You made choices," I said firmly. "You chose to continue seeing him after you knew he was married. You chose to keep quiet about it today when you had the chance to tell me the truth. Those were your choices, and they hurt people."

She nodded, accepting the judgment.

"But Liam made choices too," I continued. "He chose to manipulate a grieving young woman. He chose to use you as a weapon against your father. He chose to betray his marriage vows and lie to me for two years. His choices hurt people too."

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the decision I was about to make.

"It’s left for me to decide whether to forgive you and lift this burden off both of us, or to carry this anger and let it destroy what’s left of my ability to trust people," I said. "And I’m not sure I’m strong enough to make that choice right now."

"I need time," I said finally. "I need time to process all of this, to figure out how to move forward. But Natasha, you need to tell your father the truth, and he deserves to know about your relationship with him."

"I can’t," she said immediately. "It will kill him."

"Keeping secrets is what got us into this mess," I replied. "All of us. Liam’s secrets, your secrets, even my sister’s secrets about her feelings for my husband. Secrets have a way of poisoning everything they touch."

I stood up, my back aching from the emotional weight of the day. "I’m going home now. I need to think, and pray, and figure out how to protect my children from all of this chaos."

"Diane," she called after me as I started to walk away. "What happens now? Between us, I mean?"

I turned back to look at her one more time. She looked so small sitting there on that bench, so broken and lost. Despite everything, my heart ached for her.

"I don’t know," I said honestly. "I really don’t know."