Hours Before I Was Supposed to Propose to Another Woman

The blood in my veins turned to absolute ice as I stared at the glowing screen of my phone.

I quickly glanced at Clara, demanding to know what Sloane meant by life-saving medication.

Clara broke down into heavy, uncontrollable sobs in the passenger seat.

She confessed that all four of our sons had been born with a rare, aggressive genetic blood disorder.

The condition required a highly classified, experimental treatment that cost hundreds of thousands of dollars a month.

Sloane had been secretly funding the treatments for the past six years specifically to maintain total leverage over my family.

She had kept my sons alive only so she could use them as ultimate bargaining chips if I ever tried to cancel the wedding.

Sloane coldly informed me that the boys would go into fatal cardiac arrest within forty-eight hours without their next injection.

She demanded that I bring them directly to her family's private airfield by midnight.

If I agreed to legally sign over my shares of the Sterling empire to her, she would hand over the medication.

I hung up the phone and slammed my fist violently against the steering wheel.

I was completely trapped in a sadistic game orchestrated by billionaires who viewed human lives as mere corporate assets.

I turned the car around at the next exit and drove fiercely back toward the city limits of Boston.

I told Clara that I was going to agree to Sloane's demands to secure the medicine for our boys.

But I had absolutely no intention of letting Sloane or my father walk away from this airfield alive.

I pulled over behind a deserted strip mall and used the encrypted radio in my glovebox to make a desperate call.

I contacted a ruthless underground fixer who owed me a massive life debt from my early corporate days.

I ordered him to assemble a heavily armed extraction team and meet me at the perimeter of the airfield.

We pulled up to the heavily guarded gates of the aviation center just as the clock struck midnight.

When my newborn 'passed away,' my mother-in-law leaned in and said

My Husband Left Me Alone in My Car While I Was in Labor

“You’re Dead When We Get Home,” He Snapped

The massive steel gates slowly swung open, revealing a private jet surrounded by dozens of armed guards.

Standing at the bottom of the plane's stairs was my father, holding a silver briefcase and aiming a pistol directly at Sloane's head.

Chapter 6 - The Genetic Curse