SLAVE TO YOUR LOVE

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 day brightened, and the intimate atmosphere in the bedroom slowly dissipated.

After sweeping his gaze past the woman's smooth back, the man got up and went into the bathroom directly.

He took a shower, changed into a silver suit and walked out expressionlessly.

At this moment, his cold behavior was nowhere near that of the lustful man who had spent the night with her yesterday.

Well, he didn't show much enthusiasm on his face too when he was in bed with her last night.

The moment the man got up, Angela Wallace opened her eyes. She had just been pretending to be asleep.

Her throat was dry.

It was not until the man was about to step out of the door that she said in a low voice, "Goodbye, Mr. Carson."

She didn't know if he heard her. He merely stopped for a split second before going downstairs without saying anything.

Looking at his cold attitude, Angela sighed.

Four years ago, she worked as an intern in the Carson Group.

On her first day of work, she accompanied her boss Jeremy Carson to a business dinner. Jeremy happened to be drugged, and they had sex right that night.

And then many other nights during the past four years.

No one knew the relationship between them, though. It had been kept hidden until today.

Although Jeremy didn't say a word, Angela knew that they might not have a chance to see each other again.

She quickly got out of bed, packed her things, and went downstairs. As expected, Jeremy's special assistant, Blaine Martel, was sitting on the couch in the living room.

With a laptop on his lap, Blaine sat upright while typing quickly. He had a pair of gold-rimmed glasses on, and he looked serious.

Hearing the noise, Blaine pushed his specs to the bridge of his nose as he turned around.

When he saw the suitcase Angela was holding, his gaze darkened. But he quickly concealed the surprise in his eyes.

They had worked together for many years and cooperated well at work.

Angela greeted Blaine naturally and sat opposite him.

Only then did Blaine move the laptop away and hand Angela the prepared document. Clearing his throat, he said, "Miss Wallace, this is for you from Mr. Carson."

Angela took it over and lowered her eyes to glance at it. She remained silent for a long time.

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