MY WIFE KILLED OUR THREE CHILDREN. I WAS SENT TO DIE

Chapter 4

The afternoon sun barely warmed the living room. Arthur sat on the couch, his hands resting flat on his knees, watching the front door.

He didn't have to wait long.

The sharp chime of the doorbell rang out through the house. Before Arthur could even stand up, the door swung open. Eleanor had already rushed downstairs to unlock it.

In walked Dr. Marcus Vance.

He wore a dark tailored suit, his leather doctor’s bag held firmly in one hand. He looked polished, powerful, and completely in control—the exact picture of a high-society physician who was used to giving orders and having everyone obey them.

"Eleanor, are you alright?" Marcus asked immediately, his voice rich and full of fake concern. He took her by the arms, scanning her face. "I came as fast as I could after your call."

"Marcus... thank God you're here," Eleanor whimpered, casting a fearful glance back toward the living room. "He’s gone crazy. I don't know what's wrong with him."

Marcus patted her shoulder gently, his lips tightening into a firm line. "Don't worry. I'm here now. Go rest in the kitchen. Let me handle your husband."

Arthur stood up slowly.

He looked at Marcus, the man who had stood in court in his past life, looking the jury dead in the eye and calling Arthur an abusive monster. The man who had encouraged Eleanor to smother three helpless babies in their cribs, just to get rid of him and take everything he owned.

A sudden, violent wave of pure rage slammed into Arthur’s chest. His blood boiled. His heart hammered so hard against his ribs it felt like it would crack. Every instinct in his body screamed at him to leap across the room, wrap his hands around Marcus's throat, and squeeze until the life drained out of his eyes.

Not yet, Arthur told himself, forcing his fists to unclamp inside his pockets. Dying quickly in this clean house is too good for you. You're going to suffer first.

Marcus adjusted his glasses, taking three deliberate steps into the room. He puffed out his chest, stepping right into Arthur’s personal space. His eyes held the heavy, arrogant dominance of a man who believed he was the smartest person in any room.

"Arthur," Marcus began, his voice dropping into a stern, authoritative tone. "Eleanor called me in absolute tears. She is carrying triplets, Arthur. High-risk triplets. As her primary physician, I must insist you stop stressing her immediately. Severe emotional stress at this stage can lead to tragic outcomes. Do you understand me?"

In his past life, Arthur would have panicked at those words. He would have apologized, humbled himself, and practically begged the great Dr. Vance to make sure his wife and babies were safe.

This time, Arthur just stared at him.

The anger in Arthur's eyes slowly faded, replaced by a cold, empty calm. A slow, terrifying smile crept onto his lips.

"Tragic outcomes, Doctor?" Arthur asked, his voice completely level. "Is that a medical diagnosis or a threat?"

Marcus blinked, taken aback by Arthur's absolute lack of fear. He frowned, his brows drawing together. "It is a medical reality, Arthur. And frankly, your strange attitude right now is extremely concerning. You're acting unhinged."

"Am I?" Arthur gestured toward the dining table with a smooth sweep of his hand. "Where are my manners? You drove all the way here on an unannounced house call just to check on my wife. Please, Dr. Vance. Sit down. Let me pour you a cup of tea."

Eleanor, who was standing near the hallway, gasped softly. "Arthur, he doesn't want your tea! He’s here to examine me!"

"Sit down, Doctor," Arthur repeated, his voice dropping an octave. It wasn't a request. It carried a strange, heavy weight that made the room feel instantly smaller.

Marcus hesitated. He looked at Arthur, trying to find the weak, gullible husband he had been manipulating for months. But he couldn't find him. Still, refusing would make him look rattled, and Marcus hated looking rattled.

"Fine," Marcus said stiffly, pulling out a chair at the head of the dining table. "Five minutes, Arthur. Then Eleanor and I are going to my clinic for a proper evaluation."

"Of course," Arthur smiled.

He walked into the kitchen, his movements smooth and unhurried. He filled a kettle, boiled the water, and poured two cups. He didn't rush. Every second of silence stretching through the house only dragged out the tension.

Arthur walked back into the dining room carrying two steaming mugs. He placed one directly in front of Marcus and pulled out a chair sitting right across from him.

Arthur sat down, rested his elbows on the wooden table, folded his hands together, and stared straight into Marcus’s eyes.

He didn't speak. He didn't drink his tea. He just watched him.

One second passed. Five seconds. Ten seconds.

Marcus shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He reached out to take a sip of his tea, but under Arthur’s unblinking, dark gaze, his fingers faltered.

"Why are you looking at me like that, Arthur?" Marcus asked, trying to sound stern, but a small twitch appeared at the corner of his jaw. "If you have something to say, say it."

"I'm just admiring your dedication, Doctor," Arthur said softly, leaning forward just an inch. "A busy psychiatrist, running a high-end private practice... yet you always find time to drop everything and rush to my house the moment my wife calls."

"I care about my patients," Marcus snapped, adjusting his tie. "It’s called professional ethics."

"Professional ethics," Arthur repeated the words as if tasting them, a faint, mocking laugh escaping his throat. "Is it professional ethics when a doctor spends more time talking to a married woman about her husband’s finances than her actual health?"

Marcus’s eyes narrowed instantly. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Eleanor came to me this morning," Arthur said, keeping his eyes locked onto Marcus’s face, catching every tiny reaction. "She begged me to mortgage our house today. She said you recommended a high-end maternity retreat. Fifty thousand dollars, upfront."

Marcus cleared his throat, leaning back in his chair to put some distance between them. "It... it is a top-tier facility. The best care money can buy for triplets."

"Fifty thousand dollars in cash," Arthur whispered. "And let me guess... you were going to help her manage those funds personally, weren't you?"

Behind them, Eleanor’s breath hitched loudly. She took a step back into the shadows of the hallway.

Marcus’s face flushed slightly red. "Arthur, I don't appreciate what you're implying. I am a respected medical professional. I don't need your house money."

"Then why are your hands shaking, Dr. Vance?" Arthur asked quietly.

Marcus looked down at his right hand resting on the table. To his horror, his fingers were trembling slightly. He quickly pulled his hand off the table and placed it on his lap under the cloth.

"My hands are not shaking," Marcus hissed, his calm doctor persona finally beginning to crack. "I came here to help your family, and instead, I’m being interrogated by a man who seems to be having a psychotic break!"

"A psychotic break?" Arthur let out a low, chilling laugh that sent a shiver straight down Marcus’s spine. "No, Doctor. I've never been clearer in my entire life."

Arthur leaned across the table, bringing his face so close to Marcus that the doctor could see his own terrified reflection in Arthur’s dark pupils.

"Tell me something, Dr. Vance," Arthur said, his voice dropping into a terrifying whisper that made the air in the room freeze. "Do you believe in karma? Do you believe that when a man does something truly evil... something unforgivable... the universe eventually comes back to tear his life apart piece by piece?"

Marcus stared at him, his mouth opening slightly, but no words came out. The absolute conviction in Arthur’s voice was suffocating. It felt like standing in front of an executioner who had already signed the warrant.

"You... you're out of your mind," Marcus managed to choke out, his voice thin and hollow.

"Maybe I am," Arthur smiled, his eyes glinting with a dark, dangerous promise. "Or maybe... I just know how this story ends."