Awakening From A Toxic Billionaire Marriage

avy eyelids f

ils. She squeezed her eyes shut, her stomach rolling as the

rehead. It felt as if someone had s

memories

to her retinas just minutes before the tires lost traction: Dawson, her husband, walking into the lobby of the Four

oed in the hallway outside. L

ward the door, her fingers digging into the sterile white bedsheets. A pathetic, dying emb

ooden door

it. There was no rain on his shoulders. No wrinkles in his trousers. He looke

d, dark eyes scanned the thick gauze wrapped around her forehead

er throat felt like sandpaper. She wante

rced me to postpone the quarte

was flat

ed the very last nerve in Charlene's body

to tremble. Five years of bending over backward, five years of wearing the clothes he picked, s

the bedsheets. She forced the devastation out of

blanket up to her chin. She stared at Dawson wi

she whispered.

arsh breath through his nose. He reached up and adjust

s pathetic grab for att

ng a metal clipboard. He immediately moved to Charlene's side, shin

tor pointed to Dawson and asked for his name,

es and the nature of the injury, she's exhibiting symptoms consistent with retrograde amnesia. We'll need to run more c

His eyes narrowed into sharp slits, studying Char

blink. She gave him nothing but t

or. The nanny walked in, pulling

o the sheets again. This was the child she had carried for

the nanny. He scowled, kicking

whined loudly. "I want to go home a

at the bloody gauze

d turned to ice. She slowly closed her eye

ead away, facing

she said. Her voice was r

back. He let out an annoyed

s assistant, who hovered by the door. He turned

ed, sprinting out the

ut. The room fell i

rp as broken glass. She reached over to her left hand and ripped the

eak, subservient Charlene died on that wet asphalt. She was go