My Body, Their Betrayal: A Political Game

From the back cover

I thought my pregnancy was the culmination of our love. But it was just a calculated move in my husband's political game. A surrogacy agreement on his laptop revealed the horrifying truth.

The contract stated that after his election, custody of my baby would be transferred to my unstable sister, Britni.

I overheard them all-my husband, my sister, and even my own parents-discussing the plan. They called me a "walking incubator," a strategic asset with "perfect genetics" for their campaign narrative.

My life wasn't a love story; it was a transaction. They had turned my body into a political tool and planned to steal my child.

The trusting woman I was died that night, replaced by a cold, calculated strategist ready for war.

They thought they had me trapped, a perfect prop for their perfect family.

But they made a fatal mistake.

I walked into a clinic and made a choice that was mine alone, severing the last tie that bound me to their monstrous ambition. Then, I picked up the phone and called the one journalist who could burn their entire world to the ground.