Seven months pregnant with twins, my world shattered with one message—from my husband’s boss, Veronica. It was a photo of Eric, shirtless in her bed, with the caption: “He’s mine.”

Eric ignored my calls. That evening, he returned—with Veronica—only to announce he was leaving me. Then she demanded I move out and, shockingly, offered to buy one of my babies in exchange for a house.

I pretended to agree, under one condition: I’d choose which baby. They agreed.

Veronica bought me a house, unaware it was signed solely in my name. I played the role—sharing baby updates, letting her believe she’d won.

Then my daughters were born. Three days later, I told Veronica: “You’re not getting either.”

Furious, she threatened eviction. I revealed the truth—the house was mine. I had also exposed their scheme online.

Veronica lost her career. Eric got fired. And I? I held my babies, victorious.