The Daughter Who Wasn't Mine

From the back cover

For five years, I was Ethan Miller, devoted husband to a brilliant artist, managing our charming boutique hotel, and contentedly preparing our joint tax returns. Our life in Santa Fe felt perfectly crafted, a testament to our enduring love.

But tax season uncovered a chilling truth. My marriage was a lie. The county clerk confirmed no record of our union, only an active certificate for Ava and Julian Vance—the "struggling artist" she claimed to be helping. Even worse, the five-year-old daughter Ava insisted I adopt was their biological child.

My entire life was a performance, with me as Ava’s unsuspecting, wealthy prop. She used me for status and cash, while her legal husband and child watched. The façade crumbled when they brazenly attempted to murder me via my severe shellfish allergy, a public betrayal that solidified their contempt.

The woman I sacrificed everything for, my supposed wife, had deceived me for half a decade, even actively plotting my death. How could love morph into such a meticulously calculated betrayal? The rage and despair were a fire in my gut.

They thought they’d written me out of the script. They were wrong. With the unwavering support of Chloe Davis, my sharp, powerhouse ex-fiancée, I decided it was time for my grand finale. Ava planned a gala to parade her "perfect family." I planned her very public, spectacularly brutal downfall.