Inked In Scars: My Ex-Husband's Regret

ssa's

sent a tearing pain through my lower belly, but I k

ach sat parked right in fro

in doors, carefully suppor

d her shoulders, tending to her as if s

the concrete ste

opped

bluish, the front of my ruined shirt

y, and for a heartbeat something

ped softly-and melted l

cker of feeling vanished without a trace,

ard me. "A few scrapes, and you stagger around looking like a gh

me out faint, nearl

ldly. "All she did was accidentally ruin a few of your sketch

out m

dialed my lawyer, Vance,

sp, professional voice

ms to the marital properties, the investment portfolios, alimony, and the studio. I don't want a single

ace flush

shed it on the pavement. The screen burst apart, and

ared, "You think playing hard to get works on me? You think walk

thout flinching. "I'm setting you free-so you can marry your mistre

, tapped the screen a few time

andmother, nearly seventy-eight, lying frail in her bed, tubes running ev

morning," Derek said, venom soaking every word. "The fee is a quarter of a milli

pped. My nails bit deep in

voice shaking. "She's seventy-eight. She raise

said coldly. "Alondra hates that ugly ring tattoo on yo

emoval requires proper medical treatment!

ar. "Cooperate, let us remove the tattoo, and I'll wire the surgical fee immediatel

as forced into the bac

afting chair, tore off his silk tie, and

t him, begging. "I just had surg

ord, walked out, and shut the heavy wooden d

She picked up a bottle of high-concentration

whispered in my ear, savoring it. "Derek told me himse

e colorless chemical directly onto my chest-on

ving boiling oil poured over an open wound. The acid hissed against my skin

h-

e leather chair, the silk tie bitin

she cooed, delighted. "That's

s blurred everything. My screams tore my throat to rib

line on the studio

blood off her gloves, an

el

was flat and heavy. "We regret to formally notify the family: the patient, Evelyn Chandler, suffered sudden cardiac arrest at 12:30

nto a silence l

air, my chest a blackened,

ma wa

was go

ing me to this world ha

m. A suffocating, absolute s

.

ek unlocked the studio door, carrying

the money to the hospital-"

d in his thro

lay on the floor, cut clean through-clearl

mpled hospital report, soa

g against his ribs. He bent down slow

rt, bold black medical

ETTAGE REPORT - MISCARRIAG

: Clari

nal age:

"This-how is this possible