MY WIFE IS A KICK ASS

While I Was Bleeding Out, He Lit Lanterns For Her

Katie Oettgen

As I lay on the floor of our manor, bleeding out from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, I used my last ounce of strength to call my husband, Cole. I begged him for help, my vision blurring. But the only thing I heard was the clinking of champagne glasses and his mistress's giggle in the background. "Stop the drama, June," Cole snapped, his voice cold. "We're about to go on stage. Don't call again." He hung up, leaving me to die alone on the Persian rug while he accepted an award with another woman on his arm. I woke up in the hospital days later. My baby was gone. They had removed my fallopian tube. Cole finally arrived, smelling of expensive scotch and his mistress's perfume. He didn't hug me. He didn't cry. Instead, he leaned over my hospital bed, pressing his knee into the mattress until my fresh stitches tore open and bled. "You embarrassed me by calling an ambulance," he hissed. "My mistress, Alycia, says you're faking it. Clean yourself up." He left me bleeding again to go announce a $10 million donation to Alycia's "groundbreaking" medical research. I stared at the TV screen, numb. The research Alycia was taking credit for? It was mine. I wrote that patent years ago under a pseudonym. They thought I was just a poor, orphan housewife who needed Cole's money to survive. They had no idea I was actually a billionaire scientist hiding my identity. I pulled the IV needle out of my arm. A drop of blood fell onto the divorce papers I had been hiding. I didn't wipe it off. I signed my name right over it. Then I walked into the bank, reactivated my dormant account with $128 million, and bought the penthouse directly overlooking Cole's house. The mourning widow is dead. The avenger is born.

Romance Crime Revenge Pregnancy Enemies to Lovers Pregnancy Personal Growth

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The maternity ward in Queen Mary Hospital, in Summer City.

Kate Stark was lying on the operating table with her hair disheveled, her face was pale, dripping with sweat, her legs were wide apart, and blood was pouring out from her lower body, turning the snow-white sheets blood red.

In the blood lay a tiny baby, the umbilical cord still attached to the mother's body, his eyes tightly closed, his face was purple, his mouth slightly opened and his tiny chest was slowly rising and falling.

Yvonne Stark took the tools on the operating table and fiddled with the baby and said, "Oops...my little nephew is still alive after all sorts of torturing."

Ken Brook pulled a cold smile from the corner of his mouth and cast a sidelong glance at the baby, "What's the point of living, is a bitch qualified to bear my child, to bear the Brook family's great-grandson, huh!"

Kate looked at the two people in front of her, the hatred in her heart growing like wild weeds, the fire of hatred burning in her eyes, and she gritted her teeth and scolded, "You must die in my boots!"

Yvonne giggled without shame, "Is sister blind? Now in this situation, you can't even get off the operating table, how can we die in your boots, right, Ken?"

Kate's body trembled, she clenched her fists, her nails were deeply embedded in the flesh of her palm, and her teeth were gnashing, "How dare you guys, if you do this, won't you be afraid of my father......."

"Oops....honey, I am sooo scared." Yvonne deliberately hugged Ken in a spoiled manner, said with a pretty smile, "Maybe I forgot to tell you, I am the real Stark family, how would dad blame me?"

What?

What did she mean?

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