I Lost My Son and Learned My Husband Wanted Me Broken

My unborn son wasn’t lost to tragedy—he was killed by the poison my husband’s mistress secretly laced into my drink.

As I lay in that cold hospital room, hollow with grief, I longed for comfort. Instead, I heard words that froze my blood. Nathaniel wasn’t devastated by Victoria’s crime—he was grateful. Together, they planned to exploit the sympathy surrounding my “misfortune” to secure his rise to CEO, only to discard me once I had served my purpose.

He believed I was shattered. He believed grief would consume me and make his betrayal easy.

He underestimated me.