Dagger In The Heart epub vk download

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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Tenth Wedding Anniversary

On the day of our tenth wedding anniversary,

I received a photo of my husband in bed with another woman.

His lover flaunted it in front of me,

boasting, "The unloved one is the true intruder."

I laughed so hard I nearly fell over.

She probably didn't know that besides her and the other mistresses, my husband had a true love he'd been hiding in his heart for ten years.

In order to be with his true love,

he even concocted the absurd story that his true love was his aunt.

Morning

After dropping my youngest daughter off at school, I was about to pick up the jade bracelet I had reserved for three months. It was a gift from my husband, Aidan, to celebrate our ten years together.

The saleswoman, Miriam, was smiling so broadly that her eyes disappeared, coaxing me to buy another jade bracelet. Just then, an unexpected photo popped up on my phone.

In the photo, a woman was sweating profusely, disheveled, nestled in the arms of a man, looking delicate and dependent like a little bird. If the man she was leaning on wasn't my husband, Aidan, I might have appreciated the beauty more.

"The one who isn't loved is the real outsider."

A common and cliché declaration from a mistress, something I'd seen in countless romance novels. Nine out of ten mistresses say this.

At my age, love had become a luxury. The only motivation to maintain this family was to give my children a complete home and keep up appearances.

I no longer sought love from my husband. All I needed from him was a steady stream of money and social resources. Our marriage had long been sustained by mutual benefits, an unspoken agreement between Aidan and me.

He was never a faithful man. It was almost an open secret in our circle that high-ranking executives in large corporations had a few confidantes. The unspoken rule was not to bring these women home and to maintain a positive image in front of the children, ensuring the family's integrity.

By letting his mistress cause a scene in front of me, Aidan had broken the rules.

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