Secrets of My Assassin Wife

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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Julian POV

The autumn sunset bled across the Manhattan skyline, turning the Hudson River into a vein of liquid gold. From the floor-to-ceiling window of my Brooklyn Heights study, the city looked like a gothic cathedral—sharp, imposing, and entirely unforgiving.

I took a slow sip of my bourbon. The air in the room was heavy with the scent of old leather, dust, and the quiet discipline of a man waiting for a war.

A sharp knock broke the silence. My most trusted Soldier, Leo, stepped into the room. His hand hovered near the lapel of his tailored suit, close to his shoulder holster.

"We have a situation, boss," Leo said, his voice tight. "A girl is at the door. Says she has a delivery that can't wait. She brought a shadow with her."

I turned away from the window, setting my crystal glass on the immaculate mahogany desk. "Bring them in."

Leo stepped aside. The person who walked into my sanctum was not a hardened Capo or a rival assassin. It was a girl. She couldn't have been older than sixteen, dressed in unassuming dark clothes, but her eyes held the cold, dead weight of a veteran killer. Behind her loomed a mountain of a man, his face scarred and expressionless.

I let my gaze sweep over her, projecting the absolute authority of the Morgan bloodline. "You have three seconds to explain how you found this safe house before Leo puts a bullet in your guard's head."

The girl didn't flinch. She walked straight to my desk and tossed a tarnished silver coin onto the polished wood. It spun with a sharp metallic ring before landing flat. Engraved on its surface was a distinct, archaic symbol.

My jaw tightened. It was a token from 'The Professor'—the most elusive and dangerous information broker in the underworld.

"My name is Athena Wise," she said, her voice steady, devoid of any childish tremor. "But you can call me Nemesis. I am the last breathing heir of the Valenzuela family."

The Valenzuela family. Slaughtered three years ago by Alistair Kirkland, the usurper who now sat on the Chairman's seat of the Commission—the very seat that belonged to my murdered father.

"Ghosts don't knock on my door, Athena," I said coldly, leaning against the edge of my desk. "What do you want?"

"I'm here to help you take back what's yours," she stated, holding my gaze with an intensity that demanded respect. "And burn Alistair Kirkland's empire to the ground."

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