Found Her Prenatal, Shredded Our Marriage

From the back cover

I was ready to surprise my billionaire husband of five years with a positive pregnancy test.

But he came home reeking of cheap vanilla perfume, and the next day, I caught him at an exclusive OB-GYN clinic, tenderly holding his college ex-girlfriend.

She was pregnant. When I stood before them, he physically shielded her from me, coldly dismissing my genuine pregnancy nausea as a "pathetic, manipulative act."

When I confronted him at home, he didn't apologize. Instead, he screamed that I was a crazy, obsessive bitch.

"If your body wasn't so useless, maybe I wouldn't have had to find comfort somewhere else!"

He blamed his infidelity on my failure to give him an heir, slamming the door in my face while his mistress flaunted her victory.

He had no idea his own child was growing inside the very body he had just called barren and useless.

For five years, I had given up my brilliant career as the award-winning designer "Muse" to be his perfect, accommodating corporate wife. I had erased myself for him, only to be thrown away for a parasite.

The betrayal and humiliation burned away my despair, leaving only a cold, hard resolve.

I calmly wiped my tears, pawned the millions in diamonds he gave me to hire a ruthless private investigator, and decided to keep my pregnancy a secret.

Hartley wanted a war, and he was about to face the woman he forced me to bury.